Page 118 of Vicious Intentions
Tomorrow.
I get to see mycaro miotomorrow.
In less than twenty hours, to be precise.
I’ve been in such high spirits that it’s been hard to keep all this bubbling excitement to myself. Thankfully, everyone has been running around trying to make sure my parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary goes off without a hitch tomorrow, to notice me very much. So much so that no one even batted an eye when I excused myself after dinner to go to sleep.
For the past few hours, I’ve been lying on my bed, on pins and needles, waiting for my phone to light up with what will be our last call before I finally get to see the man I’ve fallen head over heels in love with. I haven’t had the nerve to say those words out loud yet, but I’ve made up my mind that I will when I see him tomorrow.
Not too long now.
Just a few more hours.
I can handle a few more hours.
I’ve waited this long.
My mind is so consumed with the image of his blue eyes darkening the second the words leave my mouth that I almost jump off my bed when the phone rings, startling me. But my smile slips off my face when I realize he’s calling me instead of our ritual FaceTime.
“Hi,” I greet. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,cara mia. Everything is fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” he replies.
There’s a tension in his voice, and it has been there for the better part of the week, if I’m honest with myself. Ever since we made plans to see each other. It worries me.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, though I’d rather hear how you’re doing,” he says softly.
“I’m fantastic.” I grin. “Excited.” He doesn’t answer, and that only raises my hackles more. “Aren’t you excited to see me tomorrow?” When he doesn’t answer straight away, the pit of my stomach tightens. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No.”
The word lands too hard, and I’m not sure why it unsettles me.
“You sound off tonight. Did anything happen?”
He lets out a jagged breath, and I imagine him running his long, deft fingers over his hair.
“It’s been a hell of a week, sweetheart. That’s all.”
“Oh.”
I don’t probe him further since it must have to do withfamigliabusiness. Or at least I hope it does.
When he doesn’t say anything else, all my insecurities come thrashing at me tenfold.
“Rafe,” I call out, only to hear him wince on the other end of the line.
“Sweetheart, I need to tell you something,” he says, cutting me off before I have a chance to say anything else.
“Okay.” I mull over my bottom lip nervously.
“I’ve never been a man of emotion. A slave to his feelings. Or at least, I’ve never thought of myself that way. My father made sure that my brothers and I always equated showing any kind of emotion with weakness,” he begins, a dull ache settling in my chest at the picture he paints of his childhood. “But my heart refuses to stay quiet any longer. I don’t know what tomorrow will look like, so this might be the only chance I have to say the words I’ve longed to tell you. Just once, I want you to know the truth that lies in my heart.”
My throat dries as I wait on bated breath for his next words.
“I love you, Anna. I will always love you and only you. No matter what tomorrow may bring, please remember that.”
