Page 78 of Because I Need You
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
“You know I’m always here for you.” He smiled. “Always.”
“You’ve always proved that to be true.”
“Well, I guess this is goodbye, for now.” He opened his arms and enveloped me in a hug.
I returned it kind of half-assed because I swore I could feel Giovanni’s rage kick up ten notches from all the way over here. When we separated, he walked away with his security guy, shooting a quick look over his shoulder in Giovanni’s direction. I let out a breath as I turned to where he stood. He looked so casual against the SUV, that if not for the hard expression on his face and the darkness brewing in his eyes, I would’ve thought he was picking me up for a date or something. I closed the distance between us, stopping two steps away from him and crossing my arms.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I said. “I didn’t know you ever got off work before dawn.”
“Right.” That was all he said, eyes unblinking, hard on mine.
“I guess you’re here to berate me for going to a game with Will, but before you even start, I want to make it clear that it wasn’t a date. He was just accompanying me to a ball game. As a friend. That’s all.” I searched his eyes. Nothing. His jaw, though. He might need to visit the dentist office tomorrow as hard as his teeth were grinding.
“Who’s is that?” His eyes dropped to the jersey I wore.
“My dad’s.”
A nod before he looked away. My heart sank into my stomach. I was completely out of my element here. Will was nice, readable, easy. Giovanni was the complete opposite. He was difficult and seemed impenetrable, though he had his moments. At least, with me, he had his moments. The things he’d confessed to me were real, and personal, and had clearly hurt him. Still hurt him.
“Gio,” I whispered, finally, unable to take it. He looked at me. “Can you say something? Anything?”
“What would you like me to say?”
“Well, you can start by telling me what you’re doing here.”
“I was going to go inside to watch the rest of the game with you, but obviously I got here too late for that.”
“Oh.” I felt myself frown. “Why?”
“Why what?” he asked, voice clipped.
“Why would you want to watch the game with me?”
He shot me a look.
“If you say because I’m your wife, I’m going to claw your eyes out,” I warned.
At that, he smiled. This guy. “I’d take it because that would mean you have to touch me. That’s where I’m at right now, Isabel. I would rather you claw my eyes out than continue to put this distance between us, or whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.”
I swallowed, pressing my lips together and looking away briefly, eyes on the buildings across from us, filled with people cheering and watching the game from rooftop bars. I was envious of them in that moment, even though I knew seeming carefree for a few hours didn’t mean you didn’t have worries. I thought about what I was about to tell him. It may seem like nothing at all to him. My story seemed like nothing in comparison to some of the students I had over the years. I’d learned, though, that it didn’t matter who had it better or worse. Everyone went through their own kind of hell. Just because I hadn’t been physically beat at home, didn’t mean the things I’d endured were any less traumatic. I took a deep breath and looked at Giovanni again.
“When I was eight, my grandfather died. I never met him. He was back in Cuba. My grandmother was holding on to the hope that he’d move over here at some point, but instead, he was murdered. Brutally murdered. Because he’d spoken up against the government.” I licked my lips to pause. “My grandmother was the closest thing I had to a parent. She was kind and fun and made me forget that I lived in a broken home, but when he died everything changed. Overnight, she became callous and began acting like she couldn’t even stand the sight of me. My mother was already barely there, and when she was, she was just as bad, so I had two mean people in the house, constantly telling me I’d never be enough. Never be pretty enough or smart enough. Every day, I heard that reminder from sunup to sundown. They never hit me. Maybe once or twice, but their weapon of choice was words. They didn’t hug me, kiss me, nothing. They fed me and kept a roof over my head and that was enough to be grateful for, I guess.” I took a breath. “The only time I felt happy was when my father picked me up. Genuine happiness. I’d beg to go live with him. I’d beg him not to drop me off. I never told him why, of course, but he must have known. How could he not?”
