Page 123 of When She Loves
“What?” Her voice is a harsh whisper.
“You wanted a divorce.” I look down at my desk, unable to look at her, unable to be near her. “Congratulations. You’re getting it.”
“What are you talking about? That wasmonthsago. Things have changed. You know that.”
“I’ll get my lawyers on it.”
“We can work through this,” she pleads. “Come on, it was one mistake. We can make this right again. Don’t tell me you’d throw all of this away over one damn mistake!”
She doesn’t get it. My life was fine before I met her. Everything was steady. I could control my reality, bend it to my will, enact anything I wanted. And now? There’s only mayhem. The reins are slipping out of my hands, and she’s the one pulling on them.
“I cannot be the don I need to be with you around.” I manage to keep my voice free of emotion. “You need to leave.”
She rushes to me, her footsteps loud against the hardwood floor. She takes my arm. “Rafe, stop. You’re acting crazy.”
“You made me fucking crazy!” I roar, shaking her off. Our gazes clash. “Do you know how badly I fucked up when I thought you were about to be killed by your father? When I thought you were in danger, I couldn’t fucking think straight. I still can’t think straight with you around me.”
A broken sob escapes her, and a tear runs down her cheek. “I love you.”
I force myself not to look away. To take in this moment. I know I won’t ever hear those words again. I don’t fucking deserve them.
“That’s unfortunate,” I say harshly.
She sucks in a breath. “I know you love me too, damn it.”
“I don’t loveanyone.” I step away from her.
“I know about your father! That he made you watch while he beat your mother. She told me.”
My stomach hollows out. Mamma told her?
Not everything. She’d never tell her everything.
“He was a sick man,” Cleo whispers.
If only she knew how sick.
“And he was wrong. Emotions don’t make you weak. Love doesn’t make you weak.”
Oh, but it does. Its roots penetrate through cracks, destroy walls, crumble strong foundations. I don’t recognize myself anymore.
I need to undo this.
“Was he wrong? I don’t think so. The only thing that’s wrong here is me and you.”
Her eyes widen with disbelief, as if my words don’t make any sense.
“Rafe—”
“You’ll leave with your sisters today. I want you out of this house. It’ll take me a few days to clean up the mess you caused and get the papers in order. I’ll mail them to you in Italy.”
“You can’t do this.” Cleo reaches for me again.
I tear my arm out of her grasp and move toward the door. “I’ve said everything I have to say.”
“Where are you going?” Her voice cracks, and God, how that hurts me.
“To figure out some way that today doesn’t end with my consigliere dead.”
