Page 13 of Deal with the Devil
I shake my head. “I can’t believe this.”
“But I’m happy that you are,” he continues. His gaze roves over me. “You look gorgeous.”
“Rafael, save it! Save the compliments, the flattery, all the flirting. I’m not interested.”
“You’re upset. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I turn to about-face away from him, then change my mind midway through. I round back toward him, pinning him with a hard glare. Any shock I had has faded for the anger and resentment that’s built up over the past few months.
He seems to sense what’s coming and tries to get ahead of it.
“Look, dolcezza?—”
“Don’t call me that!” I snipe. “Don’t ever call me that again!”
“Portia,” he corrects somberly. “I deserve your anger. I understand that. Be as furious with me as you need to be.”
The sound I let out is between a scoff and a laugh. “Oh, you understand? Is that so, Rafael? You mean you get what you did was fucked up? You get you proved every preconceived notion I had was true? That my reservations were correct from the start? You’re nothing but a player… a fucking asshole who gets off on making women lower their defenses and fall for you! You’re just like every other man out there! You use, you take, you manipulate, then you grow bored and move onto the next one! God, I was so fucking stupid for falling for it a second time. How could I be so naive?!”
A few others in the hall glance over at us, but I don’t give a damn. I’ve had enough for the night and it’s only just gotten started.
Rafael remains where he is, hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed.
“Is that what you think? That I was playing you? That none of it was real?”
“What am I supposed to think?” I shoot back. “You said you’d never make me a fool again… and what did you do? You proved I was wrong for ever giving you a second chance! I should’ve known you get off on it—making women fall for you and then dropping them!”
“There hasn’t been another woman since you.”
I open my mouth for a rebuttal, then clamp it shut when I process what he’s said. A flicker of uncertainty passes over my face and I take another half-step back. He’s thrown off the speech I’ve rehearsed in my head from the moment we broke up.
He presses forward, countering my reaction by taking a steptowardme.
“You’re the woman for me, Portia,” he says in a frank tone. “After Sicily, I waited for you. Every day of that year and a half we were apart, you were on my mind. And I’ll wait for you now. For a better time when we can be together. But if you expect me to say I regret that letter I wrote you—if I regret letting you go like I did—then no. I won’t pretend I do. Because I made the right decision for us both. You may not understand it right now, but it was in your best interest that I let you go.”
I’m dazed, remaining silent for a long moment, I blink and then glance elsewhere at things like the passing waitstaff or crown molding on the walls. All subtle reactions that buy me time but really communicate I’m not sure what to think or say.
Finally, I shake my head and let out a shuddering breath.
“It’s not your place to decide what’s in my best interests,” I croak, taking another step back. “Even if I believed you, I refuse to play this game, Rafael. I refuse to let you come and go whenyouwant. I wanted a committed, long-term relationship. Not some on-and-off game where we play cat and mouse. I’m… I’m better off without you. And… don’t expect me to ever give you another chance.”
“You’re right,” he admits, withdrawing a hand from his pocket to scrub his beard. “I’m not sure I deserve another chance. If some other man swooped in and snatched you up… I’d have no one else to blame but myself. But you should know you’re still on my mind. I still think of you every day. And my feelings for you… have gone nowhere.”
I fold my arms tightly across my chest and divert my gaze to the ground beneath our feet.
“What’s on your mind?” he presses. “You were marching out of the ballroom. Tell me and I’ll fix it.”
“You mean how I’m probably fired after I went off on Chuck Whitmore? He thought my career in Newport was a joke and expects me to be some smiling bimbo while he buries the real news!” I blurt out in frustration. “I don’t need you to fix my problems. I don’t need you to rescue me or make decisions for me. I make them on my own… and that’s how I want it.”
Rafael’s expression darkens, if only for a brief moment. He says nothing for a second, then finally, in a stilted voice, he offers, “I’m sure you’re not fired. You’re passionate about what you do. You should be. It’s important work.”
“Chuck disagrees. Anyway, I’m not venting to you. We can’t do this… this isn’t supposed to happen.”
“But I’d like to keep in touch. You have my number. If you ever wanted to talk… even if it’s just text?—”
“It’s best if we don’t. We’re through, Rafael. You’ve fooled me for the last time. You go back to your world. I’ll go back to mine. Enjoy your time in DC.”
I pivot on my heel and escape the hall before he can call me back.
