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Crazy for Him
  • Текст добавлен: 8 октября 2016, 22:53

Текст книги "Crazy for Him"


Автор книги: Sofia Tate



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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 6 страниц)

CHAPTER FOUR

Northern Italy

Present day

You did save the day that night, you know,” I inform Tomas.

“No argument there.”

“So modest.”

He shakes his head and grins. “How about the time we made love after my debut in Prague?”

“‘Made love?’ Honey, we…” I mouth “fucked” so the girls can’t hear…”each other’s brains out,” I remind him.

“I was being polite,” he counters.

“I know. Look at you blushing already. So cute.”

His face is rosy pink as he clears his throat, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.

*  *  * Lucy

The Estates Theatre

Prague, Czech Republic

Five years ago

Under the gilded ceiling of the Estates Theatre, Allegra sits to my left as we watch the final act of Don Giovanni. Tomas is playing a supporting role as Don Ottavio, the heroine’s fiancé. He is so amazing. I plan to make him speak to me later in that gorgeous language. It won’t matter if he asks me where the train station is in Italian. I need to hear that whispered softly in my ear.

True to their word, Davison and Allegra came to Prague for Tomas’s debut. They stopped in Paris first for a week to celebrate her being one of the winners in the Metropolitan Opera’s National Council Auditions. When they arrived, I gave them a tour of Prague, the same one that Tomas had given me. It’s a walkable city, and they only time we used public transportation was when we rode the tram up the hill to Prague Castle on the other side of the Vltava River away from the center of town.

Outfitted in a custom-made tux, Davison is seated on the other side of Allegra, his hand rubbing over the sparkling diamond ring on her finger. Allegra and I squealed like banshees when she showed it to me. I was so thrilled for my best friend. After everything she’s been through in her life, she deserves a little happiness.

The curtain finally falls on the final act. Thunderous applause echoes throughout the magnificent space. Along with Davison and Allegra, the entire audience rises to its feet.

When Tomas comes out for his solo bow, I give him a shout of “Bravo!” as well as a “Woohoo!” just so he knows it’s me, and I swear, he grins so widely because he heard it and he places his hand over heart to acknowledge me.

Allegra picks up her black cashmere shawl, and I watch as Davison helps her wrap it around her shoulders over her black ball gown.

“We’ll see you both at the reception?” she asks.

“Yup. I’m just going to go backstage to see Tomas so I can congratulate him privately.”

She raises her eyebrow at me as Davison places his hand on the small of her back, pushing her toward the aisle. “And that’s enough information, Luciana, thank you very much. Give Tomas our congratulations.”

“You got it, Money Boy.”

I smile wickedly when I hear Davison grunt in displeasure under his breath. Allegra grabs his other hand. “Come on, Harvard, let’s get some champagne,” Allegra tells him soothingly.

When she passes me, she mouths “Really?” and I just continue to grin.

I gather my own purse and head for the backstage area where Tomas has already introduced me to the security guard, but I learned how to say “I’m Tomas Novotny’s girlfriend” in Czech just in case there was a problem.

Luckily, the security guard remembers me and lets me through the door. I head for Tomas’s dressing room down the various passageways. When I get there, I see his dresser walking out with his costume to return it to the costume department. I give the older man a quick nod and step into the small room where he’s standing dressed in a white T-shirt and jeans.

“Hey you! You were—”

Before I can speak another word, Tomas has me pinned against the wall as he shoves the door closed with his foot. He stares at me for a long minute, his blue eyes illuminating like brilliant sapphires at me, and then slams his lips over mine.

Fuck, I want him now.

It doesn’t take me long to hop on board the sexy train. He sucks my tongue into his mouth, tangling mine with his. He moans so deeply and by now, I can identify them. He wants me. Badly. I can hear the need in them, the hunger.

But despite how much I want him at this moment, part of me holds back because of that look he gave me just before he kissed me. There are times when I’m with him that I can feel the distance between us, like he’s not giving himself to me completely. I know he’s keeping something from me, and every time I ask him what’s wrong or what he’s thinking about, he changes the subject or gives me some kind of vague answer. Like that fleeting glance just now. He stares at me like that a lot, as if he can’t believe he’s here with me, but simultaneously thinking that he doesn’t deserve to be. It’s as if we’re one step away from being closer than I had ever hoped for, and then just as quickly, pulls away just enough to worry me that we’ll never truly be as close as I want to be, knowing I’m truly his and he is mine.

The grip of his large hands as they grab my breasts interrupts my thoughts. He covers them wholly, kneading them hard. I moan from the pain, which only encourages him to push them into my chest, practically flattening them. He bends down and sucks one nipple into his mouth through the silken fabric of my dress. His moans grow louder, more primal as he switches to the other side, giving it the same attention that he afforded the other.

I know what he’s experiencing right now. It’s the adrenaline of opening night coursing through him—the applause, the excitement, the knowledge that he sang his ass off and did it without messing up. Plus all that applause…a singer’s ego tends to reach Everest-like heights when that shit happens.

He pulls back from my breast. Two round wet marks appear on my dress where he sucked me. He has marked me. He owns me. “I need to fuck you now, Luciana,” he whispers roughly.

And just like that, my pussy tightens, and I’m dying for him.

“Yes, please, baby,” I rasp as I start to undo the back of my dress.

But then he stops my hands. His eyes bore into me, molten with desire. “Not here.”

He grabs my hand and rushes me out the door. A bustle of activity moves outside in the hallway—dressers running around with wigs and costumes, champagne corks popping, raised voices and laughter bouncing off the walls. Others try to stop Tomas to wish him well on his debut, and he accepts each one graciously. But with each well-wisher, his hand grips mine tighter with frustration.

Prague Boy wants some, and I’m going to make sure he gets it.

I tug on his arm when another cast member stops him and lean into his warmth. “Honey, I’m really not feeling well,” I moan in feigned pain.

“Of course. Would you excuse us?”

He leads me away successfully from his castmate. “Well done, darling.”

“That’s nothing,” I scoff. “You should’ve seen me when I was a kid and faked a fever so I didn’t have to go to school.”

“Uh-huh,” Tomas mutters over his shoulder because I know he’s got other things on his mind.

We continue making our way down numerous hallways until we reach a side passage, encountering a few stagehands. Tomas looks back to see if they’re gone, and he ducks into the door the two men had just walked out of seconds before.

He heads through the entryway with me and turns on the light. The spacious room reveals itself to be holding various sets, from dining room tables and chairs to large chandeliers. And there in the middle of it all stands one huge bed without any linens.

I swivel my head to Tomas. “You’re kidding, right?”

I realize he’s not joking when I hear him lock the door behind us, then comes right to me and picks me up in his arms.

“Baby, I’m too heavy, I can just walk—”

“Be quiet, Luciana,” he orders me in a raw voice. “You’re beautiful, you belong to me, and I’m going to fuck you hard, deep, and long so you’ll never forget this moment and what I just said.”

Oh my God.

He’s never said that to me before. This is only the third time we’ve had sex, and each time has been amazing, but now, it feels different with the sound of those words coming from his mouth. I actually stopped breathing when he said them, and now, I think we’ve finally jumped that hurdle. Tomas Novotny is mine, and I’m going to claim him right fucking now.

He throws me onto the mattress, and I jump to my knees to start unzipping the back of my dress. Both of us become frenzied with need, electricity shooting to each of my nerve endings, my pulse growing rapid with each breath.

I throw all my clothes and shoes off the bed, scooting farther back on the mattress, watching Tomas as he crawls toward me, taking me in like a lion stalking its prey.

I open my legs widely and within seconds, Tomas slides his hard cock into me, both of us gasping when my inner muscles sheath him so snugly. It’s so familiar, and yet every time with him is like the first time—so exhilarating because deep down, despite the mixed signals from him, I know I can be myself with this man, the man I’ve been waiting for, the one who will make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. And when I look in his eyes, I see an abundance of emotion mirrored back at me—lust, need, want, and, just possibly, love. It feels so perfect.

He grabs my hips and starts pumping me hard. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but right now I don’t care. “Yes! Yes! Don’t stop!” I beg him.

“Ano! Ano!” he grunts in Czech at the top of his lungs, echoing what I just said. He looks so primal, like a sex god determined to turn me liquid and boneless until the only feeling I’m left with is pure, unadulterated exhaustion.

The rough texture of the uncovered mattress digs into my back, burning my skin as Tomas bucks into me. I try to grab something to hold onto, ending up with my fingernails digging into my palms as I form fists with my hands.

My legs lock around Tomas’s back of their own volition. His body presses into me, almost robbing me of oxygen, but I feel nothing except complete ecstasy. The more his body pushes me into the bed, the more demanding I become.

“Faster, baby! Faster!” I pant.

His grunts grow louder. I’m on the edge of the cliff, and with one last thrust, Tomas sends me soaring on the wave of an orgasm that sends stars shooting behind my closed eyes.

Tomas unleashes one last roar as I milk his cock to his own release, his hard, sweat-covered body falling onto me right after he comes.

I manage one word between my short breaths. “Bravo.”

His body begins to shudder from laughter right before he takes my lips and kisses me long and wet and deep.

He pulls back from me first and stares at me, not saying a word.

I frown. “Oh, crap, what? You stuck or something?”

He slowly runs his fingertips over my face, never taking his eyes from mine. “I love you…Luciana.”

I press my lips together to keep myself from crying, and as much as I want to cry because he said those three words to me, I don’t want to because he paused before he said my name, like he was trying his best to remember to say the right one and he could barely get it past his lips.

I slap a big smile on my face and let out a small laugh to mask what I’m really feeling. “Well, thank God for that. I thought you needed a doctor or something.”

I hear a grunt rumble deep in Tomas’s throat. “Luciana…don’t be scared. This is me. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

I know what he wants to hear. I take a deep breath and say it back to him, even though I’m scared, uncertain, and reply half-heartedly. “I love you too, Tomas. Don’t fuck me over.”

He cradles my face gently in his hands. “Never.”

We’ll see.

CHAPTER FIVE

Northern Italy

Present day

I smile at my husband. “That was a good night.”

“Yes, it was,” Tomas concurs.

“That pause though…it killed me, babe.”

“And I feel so badly that I couldn’t tell that it had. You hid it very well.”

I reach across to take his hand. “What can I say? I’m trained in the performing arts. The education was worth the tuition.”

Tomas raises our joined hands to his lips, kissing mine twice softly but just enough to tell me that we’re past all that now. I smile as he places our entwined hands on his muscled thigh.

I glance back at the girls to look at our present. Both Marika and Mimi are fast asleep, their heads leaning into each other, practically touching.

“Why don’t we talk about the part that led to us ending up here with our two daughters out cold in the backseat?” I suggest.

“You mean the sex?”

I sigh in exasperation. Men.

“No, when I found out I was pregnant and you let me down and took off on me like a gazelle being stalked by a pack of hyenas.”

“Will you ever let that go? I didn’t know you were pregnant and—”

I hold up my hand to him, palm facing out. “Okay, stop. Even though we’re both here together now, I think we need a refresher of that time without any judgment calls.”

Tomas sighs, then nods. “I agree.”

I take a deep breath. “This is going to be fun…” I mumble, completely not meaning a single word of it.

*  *  * Lucy

Davison and Allegra’s wedding reception

Le Bistro

Broadway and Sixty-fourth Street

Five years ago

“Can you believe it’s finally over?” Ian asks me, approaching with two flutes of champagne in his hands.

I can’t help but smile. As cynical as I am about love, I actually shed a few tears during the ceremony, watching my best friend marry the love of her life.

I take a glass from Davison’s handsome best man. I admit the guy is good looking. With his brown hair, a chunk of it falling across his forehead, him always trying to push it aside with his hand, it borders on cute. Hugh Grant kind of cute. But I’m not into cute. I’m into men with broad chests and European accents that make my toes curl. Well, I would be if the Euro I was into would only share with me what the fuck has been stuck up his ass for these past few weeks, acting moody and distant. So if a cute guy wants to pay me attention, I’m not going to say no.

“Thanks. I know, right? My duties are officially over. But you still have to give your best man speech.”

He sighs audibly. “Yeah, don’t remind me.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Here’s to that,” he replies, aiming his glass to mine.

We clink glasses. I take a sip, glancing toward the back of the room when I see Tomas shooting daggers at me with his eyes, right before he walks out the door.

Fuck. What now?

I put my champagne down on the bar. “Ian, will you excuse me?”

“Everything okay?” he asks worriedly.

“I have no idea.”

I follow Tomas out of the restaurant, catching him by the elbow. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“I’m going home. I can’t watch you with him anymore.”

I pull him aside closer to the building to get out of the way of the endless pedestrian traffic. “For fuck sakes, there’s nothing going on between Ian and me. And has it occurred to you since we’re in the wedding party that we’d be thrown together and would become friends by happenstance?”

He looks down at the pavement. “Maybe.”

Well, thank God for that. At least he admitted it. Finally.

I take his face in my hands, enveloping it gently. “Hey, I hope you know by now you can talk to me about anything. I know you’re holding something back from me, and I’m trying my best to be patient with you, but patience eventually runs out.”

He’s doing that thing again. Looking anywhere but at my face. My hands lose their grip on him when he starts shaking his head, as if he’s fighting something internally.

When he finally does bring his eyes back to mine, they’re misty, as if he wants to cry but doesn’t.

I step as close as I can to him, taking his hands in mine. “Please, Tomas, I’m begging you. If we have any chance of at future together, tell me what it is that you’re keeping from me. I won’t run away. I’ll listen to anything you have to tell me and I promise I won’t judge you.”

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and raw with emotion.

“You’re an amazing woman, Luciana, and it’s not just that I’m afraid of losing you.”

“Then what else is it?” I press him.

“I’m afraid to tell you because I don’t want to take the risk of losing myself again.”

I drop my hands from his and take a step back from him.

I gasp at the shock of his words. You’re fucking kidding me, right?

“Okay, let me get this straight. You want to be with me more than anything, but you’re afraid of the commitment not just because you’re afraid of losing me, but because you’re not sure I’m worth the risk. Nice. Real nice, Tomas.”

I turn to walk away from him, but he rushes to me and grabs my shoulders to spin me around. I try my best to shake him off, but it’s futile because of his overwhelming strength. “No, Luciana, please, I didn’t mean that.”

My throat grows tight with hurt, biting down on the inside of my lower lip to keep myself from losing it. “All evidence seems to point to the contrary.”

His hands suddenly drop from my shoulders. “Why does it feel like I’m losing you?”

My head falls back in frustration, a groan echoing from my throat. “Because you are. Christ, I’ve been telling you this for ages and it’s like in one ear and out the other. You’re the one pulling away from me, and I don’t know why because you won’t tell me. But after what you just said, I’m thinking there’s something else going on. Do you want to break up with me?”

His blue eyes glare at me, heated with fury. “I’m going home.”

Before I can say another word, he turns his back on me and starts walking south toward Columbus Circle.

Fuck this.

I storm back into the bistro and to the reception, where thankfully everyone has settled in for dinner in the other room. I grab my clutch and wrap from the lounge where we had the cocktail hour and rush back outside, following Tomas’s retreat south to catch the subway.

About an hour later, I’m walking up the stairs to his fourth-floor apartment in Astoria. There was no way in hell I was going to let him just walk away from me with that question unanswered.

I pound on his door. A few seconds later, I hear footsteps stomping across the floor.

The door swings open, revealing Tomas in his customary white T-shirt and jeans, already out of the suit he wore to the wedding. “What are you doing here?” he snarls at me.

“Can I come in?” I snap right back at him.

The gloves are coming off. Get ready, Novotny.

He steps aside, and I fly past him into the apartment. I see his roommate, Stefan, another Czech expat, lying on the couch watching TV.

Hallo, Luciana,” Stefan calls out to me.

“Hey, Stefan,” I reply casually since I have more important things on my mind.

Tomas moves past me to his room, and I follow him. He shuts the door behind me, giving me another full-on death stare with his eyes.

He’s kidding, right?

“What? Are you really surprised that I’m here? Did you honestly think I’d let you get away with not answering that question?”

Before I even let him reply, I spot an open suitcase on his bed, with clothes lying in them haphazardly as if someone just threw them in there, not caring whether they wrinkled or not.

My stomach drops. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears.

He can’t be…

“What’s going on?”

“I’m going home,” he replies in a whisper.

I spin around to look at him. His eyes are downcast. He starts fidgeting with his hands, not knowing what to do with himself.

I laugh from the shock, doing my best to mask the sheer panic and heartbreak that were taking hold of me. “Well, I guess you weren’t kidding back at Le Bistro when you said you were going home, huh? Are you coming back?”

He doesn’t say anything. He finally looks up at me, and when he does, his eyes are sunken and his face is pale.

Finally, he speaks.

“I…I don’t know,” he stammers. “I need to see my family. But it’s more than that.”

I clench my jaw, placing my hands on my hips. “Like what?”

Silence. He looks at me with a lost look in his eyes, like he wants to tell me the truth but is worried what my reaction will be.

That’s it. I can’t take this anymore.

I throw up my hands in defeat. “You know what? Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll save you the trouble. We’re done. I deserve better than this. I deserve to be with a man who doesn’t have doubts about me, who won’t go into panic mode when I ask him to give himself fully to me, who’ll be honest with me and not afraid to be himself with me, which is ironic since it’s usually me being myself with guys that puts them off. I don’t want half a man. I want all of him.”

I pause to catch a breath and see if he’ll say something.

Silence.

I laugh again to myself to ease the pain of this moment. “Well, okay then. Looks like I’ll have to write up a whole new Loser List since I have a new name to add to it. Have a nice fucking life, Tomas Novotny.”

I storm out of the apartment. Like a complete idiot, I keep looking back, waiting for Tomas to appear, pulling that romantic crap when the hero rushes to stop the heroine from leaving so he can tell her that he was a jerk and to forgive him and that they’ll be together forever.

Bull-fucking-shit.

That doesn’t happen. Instead, I get home and tear my bridesmaid’s dress off me, the sound of fabric ripping bouncing off the walls, followed by the shoes I hurl at the wall, etching divots in the plaster. I fall onto my bed, screaming and thrashing like an animal caught in a steel trap, pulling at the sheets with my fists. I fall asleep like that in my bra and panties, completely spent from fatigue and pain.

*  *  * Lucy

At home

Tribeca

One week later

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Sitting on the closed toilet in my bathroom, I stare at the ten plastic sticks, their ends all soaked in blue, lined up like a platoon about to go into battle. I emptied the Brita pitcher, making sure I had enough water in me to use all ten pregnancy tests I bought at Duane Reade. And they all turned blue. Every single one.

It explains everything. My voracious appetite like when I inhaled a bag of potato chips and a pack of Twizzlers simultaneously at Allegra’s final dress fitting, a moment that makes me cringe now when I think about it.

I know that the timing is awful. Fucking godawful. Tomas is in the Czech Republic, and I have no idea when he’s coming back. We’ve had some wonderful times together, but the idea of marriage and kids hasn’t even been brought up yet by either of us. It’s just too soon. I shiver at the thought of telling him this, but I don’t have a choice. He’d notice if my zaftig figure gradually started resembling that of Jabba the Hutt. And with the way he’d been pulling away from me before he left, I think this would end us permanently.

I have to tell him.

But he should be here, dammit. He left me with no explanation. I don’t know what to think.

I’ve never been so lost in my life.

My pulse starts to race and a wave of fury overcomes me. With one sweep of my hand, I knock over the plastic sticks like a set of dominoes. Falling back against the wall, I sink down to the floor and collapse into uncontrollable sobs. I cry and cry until there’s nothing left.

*  *  * Tomas

Mladá Boleslav, Czech Republic

Fifty kilometers northeast of Prague

The same week

I run my fingers over the dark blue velvet ring box my mother has just handed me.

I miss my Luciana.

I never expected to meet someone like her. She challenges me like no woman ever has before. I love everything about her, from her beautiful curvy body to her dirty mouth. I know that I want to spend my life with her, which is why I’m here, back in my village to put the ghosts of my past to rest so that I can ask Luciana to marry me when I return to New York.

I open the box to reveal the antique platinum diamond engagement ring my grandfather gave my grandmother, which is now mine to give to Luciana.

Luciana…

I know I didn’t leave her in the best manner, but I honestly didn’t know how to explain why I was returning to my homeland. I only hope that she will understand once I explain everything to her.

And now that I have the ring, I can complete the next task, the most difficult one that I only hope has the outcome I’m wishing for.

I step out of our house, giving a wave to my father who’s out back tending to his bees. The sun beams down on me as I turn left out of our driveway to walk the two miles to my destination. Along the way, neighbors shout hello to me, some stop me to ask how I am and where I’ve been. They also inform me about Petra and what she’s up to now, and at least now I know what to expect when I see her.

I reach the center of town and stop in front of the shop window, the same sign advertising its wares as it has for the past twenty-odd years—“Potraviny,” “groceries,” the store where I met Petra Benesova when I was a young boy and where I asked for her hand in marriage from her father when I was eighteen.

I take a deep breath and walk in. The same bell jingles when I push the door open.

Her father, Mr. Benes, is the first person I see.

“Dobry den.” I acknowledge him nervously with the customary morning greeting.

His eyes widen at the sight of me. His back straightens and his chest enlarges as he takes a deep breath to give the appearance of strength, going into protective mode for his daughter. “Hello, Tomas,” he replies in Czech. “I heard you were back in town. How are you?”

“I’m well. And Mrs. Benesova? You’re both fine, I hope?”

“We are, thank you.”

I swallow in my throat. “I was hoping I could speak to Petra. Do you know—”

Just as I’m about to ask where she is, a blonde head pops out of the curtain that separates the back room from the front. “I couldn’t find the—”

Time stands still as I look into the green eyes of my childhood sweetheart, the girl I thought I’d be with forever until the unspeakable happened.

I stand ramrod straight, trying to keep my breathing even.

You can do this. “Hello, Petra.”

“Tomas,” she whispers. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“It’s been a long time,” she replies, a bit of steel and anger in her voice, which is completely understandable and expected, but I deserve it.

I sigh from embarrassment. “I know. I’m very sorry about that.”

We stare at each other for what seems like forever, taking in the sight of each other. I watch as she flips her thick hair over her shoulder, now longer. She seems taller. Her eyes are softer, wiser, as if she’s already lived an entire lifetime even though we’re both in our late twenties. But I still detect a note of sadness and vulnerability, which is not at all a surprise after what the both of us went through together.

She stands perfectly still as her own eyes take me in. “You look good, Tomas. Different. I hear you’re doing well in New York.”

“Thank you, I am.”

Silence permeates the store. This is so awkward, but I don’t look away from her as tempting as it is to make it easier on me. She deserves better from me after leaving her the way I did.

I swallow deep past the lump in my throat. “Would you take a walk with me?”

Her father places a hand on her arm. “Petra, you don’t have to…”

Her tall frame steps out from behind the curtain, placing her hand on her father’s arm. “It’s okay.”

She grabs her purse from a shelf behind the counter, leading the way to the door.

Outside on the sidewalk, we stop and stare at each other. “Do you want to see Oksana?” she asks.

I exhale a breath. The weight on my shoulders lessens. “Yes. I was hoping you’d say that. I’d like that very much.”

A small smile appears across her lips. “I take good care of her.”

I lift her hand and place it in the crook of my arm. “I know you do. Let’s get something for her.”

We begin to walk slowly along the cobblestone street, not just so we don’t trip, but also because it wouldn’t feel proper to rush. We need to take each other in, the feel of being in each other’s presence again after so many years. She holds on to my arm tightly, and I do the same with her hand so she won’t fall. I am here for her now, something I didn’t do when I should’ve before.

Something sharp bites my palm. I look down at her hand. A large diamond ring sits on the third finger of her left hand.

We begin walking. I rub my thumb over the sparkling jewel. “Congratulations. I heard you were engaged from my neighbors. Who’s the lucky man?”

“Andrej Benedikt. He’s a manager at the Škoda automobile factory. He’s a gentleman and treats me very well. I think you’d like him.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, my heart growing fuller for her. I grip her hand tighter to acknowledge how happy I am for her, because in addition to finding her happiness, it means that I can finally move on with mine without the guilt hanging over me.

I lean in to kiss her hair, and, thankfully, she doesn’t pull away. “I’m sure I would. That’s so nice to hear. I’m very happy for you.”

“Thank you, Tomas. I’m happy, too. Finally. I never thought I would be again.”

I release a long breath. “I know exactly how you feel.”

“Yes, I’m sure you do,” she whispers under her breath.

We turn right to head up the hill toward the church where we got married so many years ago.

“And you?” she asks. “Are you happy?”

I can’t help but smile at the question. “I am. Very. Her name is Luciana. She’s an opera singer too. Hopefully you’ll meet her one day.”

“I would like that very much.” She tugs on my elbow and stops walking. I come to a halt next to her. When I look at her, she takes her hand, placing it on my cheek. “It’s okay to move on, Tomas. If you need to hear it, then here it is…move on. Be happy. Believe me, it took some time until I accepted the fact that it was acceptable to be with Andrej. I felt all of it…the guilt, the worry that if I moved on, it meant I never loved you or Oksana. We’re not saying good-bye to the love, we’re just leaving behind the life we had and starting a new one.”

I shut my eyes from the overwhelming emotion, thankful for her words, my heart full of love and admiration for her, her strength, and her selflessness.

I open my eyes again to look at her, clearing my throat. “I hope you know how sorry I am for everything. I think what happened between us, after everything…what I’m trying to say is, we are where we’re meant to be now in our lives.”

Petra nods in return. “I know. There was just too much pain. I’m not angry, not anymore. There’s no point to carrying around so much hate and resentment where there’s so much life left for both of us. It took me a long time to realize that.”


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