Page 70 of Stronger Than Fate
“Having said all this, I can only ask you to leave because I want to get dressed so I can get out of here as soon as possible.”
The whole time he was looking into my eyes, never once attempting to interrupt me. He listened with great attention, though I could see his expression changing, shifting from a serious and authoritative look to one that made him appear confused.
“May I speak?” he asked, and seeing that I said nothing, he added, “I listened to you, now I’m just asking for a few minutes to say some things I need you to know.”
“Make it quick because I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”
“I apologize because the other day I hurt you with very unfortunate words. I know what I said was misguided and hurtful. It’s not what I think.”
“Apology accepted, Henry. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to leave,” I said.
“I’m not finished,” he pointed out. “I agree with you that we are different, but everyone is, right? We are from the moment we have different experiences and so many other things. Most likely, until the day we met, we had nothing in common.”
“We still don’t,” I stated, interrupting him.
“I disagree. We may be different in many ways, but we can complement each other.”
“No, Henry. I don’t want to continue with us, I really can’t. It’s better to leave it like this before we really cause irreversible damage to each other.” I wasn’t going to tell him that the damage was already done because I had hopelessly fallen in love withhim. “I really want to leave, my head hurts a lot and I want to get back to the hotel. I’d appreciate it if you’d let me get dressed.”
He ran his hands through his hair, then looked at me, and for the first time since I’d known him, I thought I glimpsed some vulnerability, and I don’t know if it was my imagination or my own pain, but his eyes seemed to look at me with sadness.
“What if I don’t want you to go?”
“Why do you want me to stay? What I can give you, you can also get from the women you see daily, and you get along much better with them than with me, at least that’s what you told me.”
“I already told you that’s not what I think,” he stated.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said, dejected.
He moved away from me and sat on the bed. He looked lost, and I began to feel a little compassion for him, but only a little.
“Maybe you’re right. You’re very young and can have all the fun you want without attachments. I shouldn’t be so selfish as to limit you just to enjoy some time with you.”
“Just to enjoy some time with you”resonated in my head. That proved I was making the right decision. Henry was only with me to enjoy the sex for a while, nothing more. If I continued with this relationship feeling this overwhelming emotion for him that grew stronger each day, I would end up much more disappointed and hurt. I had to be realistic and protect my heart and sanity by making a sensible decision.
He stood up and positioned himself next to me, looking at me with sadness. He took my chin and gave me a delicate kiss on the cheek.
“You’re special, Dalina. Be happy, you deserve it.”
And with that phrase hanging in the air, he left his bedroom without looking back at me.
When I heard the door close, I collapsed. I locked myself in the bathroom and began to cry inconsolably. I knew it was for the best, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. I loved him, but it was clear that my feelings weren’t reciprocated. I couldn’t open my heart to him; it would hurt much more than keeping silent and keeping that feeling to myself. I don’t know why, but at that moment I remembered my friend Sean’s words:“Is there anything more depressing than loving someone who we know will never love us back?”How right he was! Now I understood it better. It truly was depressing and very painful, but I couldn’t do anything because that feeling knows no logic.
With my spirits crushed, I washed my face, fixed my hair a bit, and got dressed. I didn’t want to look defeated, even though that’s how I felt because I had lost, and the pain of that loss was immense.
Had I lost him?
No; I couldn’t lose him because he had never been mine.
I had lost the hope that someday he might love me.
Hurricane Henry had passed through my life, leaving it completely devastated.
I reached the living room and found him standing by the window, hands in his jean pockets, looking outside. As soon as he heard my footsteps, he turned and stared at me. His gaze destabilized me because he looked like a broken man. I didn’t understand why he looked that way; he didn’t feel anything for me. I couldn’t believe he felt hurt about not being able to sleep with me anymore; he had all the women he wanted at his disposal. He knew clearly about all the relationships waitingfor him out there, and I was aware of that too. He just had to snap his fingers and he’d be surrounded by women willing to do anything to be with him. He knew it, and so did I. So why did he look like his world had crumbled? Honestly, I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t going to analyze it either. It was time to think about myself.
“Did Niky give you my things?” I asked, trying to appear calm.
“They’re on that table,” he said, pointing to the living room table where my clutch was.
