Page 164 of Vicious Intentions
“Well, it’s done now.” I shrug nonchalantly. “No reason to cry over spilled milk, I guess.”
Raffaele looks up at me through his lashes, studying me. “You don’t look very upset about it.”
“Just because I don’t look it doesn’t mean I’m not. I’ve just learned to accept it. For now.”
Even though I’m trying to play it cool, there’s something in his eyes that makes me uneasy.
“Don’t believe him, Anna. Whatever you do, don’t believe a word he tells you.”
“Funny, coming from the man who was the first to ever lie to me.” I scoff.
“Jesus, Anna, will you ever forgive me for that? Can’t you see I’ve already punished myself enough for it? It’s been eating me alive knowing you’re married to him.”
I look at Raffaele then. Really look at him. Aside from his disheveled appearance, deep shadows also lie under his eyes. He looks thinner, too, as if he hasn’t been able to stomach a proper meal in weeks. But that’s not the only thing about him that’s changed. Even from where I’m standing, he reeks of cigarettes, cheap perfume, and alcohol, as if he’d been drowning himself in all three.
I frown at the sight. Even though Raffaele tricked me, betrayed me in the worst way imaginable, he was the only real friend I’ve ever had. I cared deeply for him. A part of me still does.
“I can’t promise you anything. But I will try to forgive you.”
“Really?” His eyes light up.
“Just…” I let out a breath. “Give me time. Time heals all wounds, right?”
“That hasn’t been my experience. But I really hope it does when it comes to us.”
Us.There is no us. Not anymore. Maybe not ever again.
I offer him a little smile, but when he takes it as permission to step closer, I take a step back. That earns me another frown.
“Like I said, it’s going to take me some time.”
“Okay, beautiful. Whatever you need. I’ll be here for you.”
I wish I could trust his words, but I don’t. Something about Raffaele is off now, like I don’t even know who he is anymore. I wish the boy who was my friend all those years would come back. But right now, he’s not here. Only a bitter, angry man living with too much guilt and too much resentment for his own good.
With a book in hand, I try to sidestep him toward the couch, only for him to move in front of me, blocking my path.
“I just… fuck, what do I want to say… I just… don’t let him play you, okay?” he warns.
“What do you mean?”
“Matteo. He doesn’t love you. All he loves is revenge. Remember that when he’s filling your head with nonsense.” I square my shoulders and lift my chin, all while strangling the book in my hand.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I just don’t want you to be a pawn in his little war.”
“I’m not a pawn in his war. I’m the variable he’ll never control,” I retort sternly, wishing I believed my own words.
“Good.” Raffaele smiles. “Keep it that way.”
“Are we done?” I ask, not masking my annoyance for this entire conversation.
But then Raffaele stills. His smile fades away, his gaze locking onto mine as if he’s trying to read something buried deep inside me. The shift is so sudden it catches me off guard.
“You haven’t fucked him, have you?”
The urge to slap my brother-in-law is so strong that it takes everything in me not to.
