Tossed Into Love
Page 37
“Have you seen her?” I ask, looking at her.
“I saw her this morning. I went to the shop to help her with a few things in the office that she didn’t know how to do,” she says. She reaches over, taking my hand in hers. “She’s doing as well as can be expected.”
“I miss her,” I say, fighting the urge to rub the palm of my hand against my chest right over my heart. “I love her.”
“I know you do,” Mom says sympathetically, giving my hand a squeeze. “She renamed the shop Princess Pizza. I think that tells you something about the way she feels for you, too.”
“I saw the new sign,” I admit. “It’s really pink.” I laugh, and it sounds rough and foreign.
“This is Libby we’re talking about. She’s all about being a girl. I think it’s going to be a hit. She’s bringing something new to the neighborhood and the business. Your father and I have been really impressed by her plans.”
I’m not surprised. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s a hard worker. I know that with her running the shop, it’s going to be successful.
“Go to her. Talk to her,” Dad says. I look at him. “She’s probably at the shop right now. She’s been there every day, getting things ready for the grand reopening.”
“When’s that?”
“In two days,” Mom says. “She’s having a big party to celebrate. Your dad and I will be going to show our support. Maybe you can come.”
“Maybe it’s best I talk to her before then. I don’t want to ambush her at her party and ruin it for her.”
“Either way, I’m sure she’d like to see you,” she says solemnly.
I let out a deep breath.
“Are we okay?” I ask, looking between my parents. My dad frowns while Mom’s brows pull together. “I know you were both disappointed in me for not wanting to take over the shop. I hate that I let you both down.”
“You haven’t let us down. We’re proud of you, proud of the kind of man you are. All we want is to see you happy, Antonio. We would never try to force our own dreams down your throat.”
“I am happy—or I was.” I was happy until I ruined things with Libby, until I proved to her once again what an asshole I can be.
“You’ll get Libby back and find happiness again, son,” Dad says quietly.
Fuck, but I hope he’s right.
If he’s not, I don’t know what I will do. I thought that I loved my ex, but it didn’t feel like this. I’m in love with Libby. I know that if I can’t find a way to get her back, I will never find the kind of happiness and love that she gave me again.
“I’ll go talk to her.”
I get up and hug both my parents before heading out the door and catching a cab.
When my driver parks across the street from the pizzeria, I start to pay my fare, but then I see Libby walk out of the shop wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a simple long-sleeve T-shirt. Her hair is tied up in a bun, and her face is clean of makeup. She looks over her shoulder at a man walking out of the pizzeria behind her and smiles at him.
Walter . . . ? What the fuck is he doing with her, and why the fuck is she smiling at him?
I fight the urge to get out of the cab and bash his face in.
I absently rub my chest over my heart as they head down the block.
She’s moved on. She’s already moved on. I let things go too long, and she started seeing someone else. How the fuck did I lose her already?
“You gonna get out, man?” the cab driver asks.
I pull my attention away from Libby and shake my head.
“No, I changed my mind.” I give him directions back to my place.
When I get home, I change into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then head out for a run. I need to get out some of the rage coursing through me. I know that if I don’t get rid of it I’m liable to do something completely stupid, like go to Libby’s apartment, kidnap her, bring her back to my place, and tie her to the bed until she forgets all about stupid fucking Walter.
Two days later, I’m parked in front of Princess Pizza and wondering what the hell I’m doing. The last two days have been hell. I haven’t slept and barely ate. I’ve spent most of my time trying to convince myself that if Libby is over me, then I need to get over her. But no matter what I say to myself, I can’t do it. I’m in love with her, and it’s time that I prove that by fighting for us. I called my mom this afternoon and asked her what time the party was this evening. Paying the cab driver, I get out and head into the pizzeria.
The space looks completely different from the last time I was here. The walls have been painted two different shades of pink, and there are new tables with black tops and chrome seats. Colorful framed paintings hanging around the room look like they were done by little kids. Fairy-tale castles, dragons, princesses and princes, horses and unicorns. I pull my eyes off the new art on the walls and scan all the happy faces in the room. I have no idea how the fuck I talked myself into this.
Right . . . for Libby.
My eyes zero in on her as soon as she steps away from an older gentleman. My heart starts to pound hard against my rib cage. She looks beautiful tonight. She’s wearing a long black dress that’s tied at her waist. Her dark hair is down around her shoulders, and her face is made up almost like it was the night I took her out for our first date. I pull in a few deep breaths to build up the courage I need to do this.
She must sense my eyes on her, because her gaze comes directly to me. Her eyes widen, then fill with worry and fear.
“Antonio.” I hear her whisper my name even over the noise in the room. It feels like time stops as we do nothing but stare at each other.
Without telling my feet to do it, I take a step toward her. My hands start to shake. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Walter standing with a group of people. I turn to glare at him, ignoring the knowing grin he’s wearing before I return my attention to Libby.
“Antonio. What are you doing here?”
“We’re at the part where I need to beg for your forgiveness,” I say.
Her body goes still, and even her breathing seems to stop. Closing the distance between us, I go to her and get down on my knees. I take both her hands in mine. I don’t give a fuck that everyone in the room has stopped talking. All I care about is the woman in front of me.
“There’s this guy. He met a girl, a perfect girl. The perfect girl for him, and he was a jerk to her.”
“Antonio.” Her eyes close as her hands start to shake, so I hold her more firmly.
“That girl hopefully fell in love with that guy—despite the fact that he doesn’t deserve her.”
“She did.” Her eyes open to meet mine.
“That guy was an idiot.” I shake my head. “He was self-centered, selfish, and in the end, an even bigger jerk to the girl. He should have taken better care of her.” Tears start to fill her beautiful eyes. “He probably made her cry a lot.”
“He did,” she tells me. “He also made me drink a lot,” she says with a shy smile.
“I hate that, Princess,” I whisper. “I hate that I made you cry. I hate that I fucked up. I hate that I walked away from you.” My throat starts to get tight with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Princess. So fucking sorry that I didn’t listen when you tried to talk to me. Sorry that I didn’t trust you the way that I should have. I love you, Libby. Please forgive me for being an asshole.”
“I’m sorry, too, you know,” she says as tears start to track down her cheeks. “And of course I forgive you. It’s my job to take you back even when I shouldn’t.”
She whispers the last part, and I bury my face against her stomach while I wrap my arms tightly around her waist. Her body curls around mine, and her mouth rests against the top of my head.
“I love you, Antonio.”
“I love you, too, Princess. So fucking much.” I stand and gather her tightly against my chest when I hear her sob and feel her tuck her face into my neck.
“Show’s over,” someone says loudly.
I pick her up and carry her to the office, through the crowd of people. I kick the door shut with my foot once we’re inside. I don’t look around to see the changes she’s made; I just take a seat on the couch and hold her in my lap, running my hand up and down her back.
“I saw her this morning. I went to the shop to help her with a few things in the office that she didn’t know how to do,” she says. She reaches over, taking my hand in hers. “She’s doing as well as can be expected.”
“I miss her,” I say, fighting the urge to rub the palm of my hand against my chest right over my heart. “I love her.”
“I know you do,” Mom says sympathetically, giving my hand a squeeze. “She renamed the shop Princess Pizza. I think that tells you something about the way she feels for you, too.”
“I saw the new sign,” I admit. “It’s really pink.” I laugh, and it sounds rough and foreign.
“This is Libby we’re talking about. She’s all about being a girl. I think it’s going to be a hit. She’s bringing something new to the neighborhood and the business. Your father and I have been really impressed by her plans.”
I’m not surprised. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she’s a hard worker. I know that with her running the shop, it’s going to be successful.
“Go to her. Talk to her,” Dad says. I look at him. “She’s probably at the shop right now. She’s been there every day, getting things ready for the grand reopening.”
“When’s that?”
“In two days,” Mom says. “She’s having a big party to celebrate. Your dad and I will be going to show our support. Maybe you can come.”
“Maybe it’s best I talk to her before then. I don’t want to ambush her at her party and ruin it for her.”
“Either way, I’m sure she’d like to see you,” she says solemnly.
I let out a deep breath.
“Are we okay?” I ask, looking between my parents. My dad frowns while Mom’s brows pull together. “I know you were both disappointed in me for not wanting to take over the shop. I hate that I let you both down.”
“You haven’t let us down. We’re proud of you, proud of the kind of man you are. All we want is to see you happy, Antonio. We would never try to force our own dreams down your throat.”
“I am happy—or I was.” I was happy until I ruined things with Libby, until I proved to her once again what an asshole I can be.
“You’ll get Libby back and find happiness again, son,” Dad says quietly.
Fuck, but I hope he’s right.
If he’s not, I don’t know what I will do. I thought that I loved my ex, but it didn’t feel like this. I’m in love with Libby. I know that if I can’t find a way to get her back, I will never find the kind of happiness and love that she gave me again.
“I’ll go talk to her.”
I get up and hug both my parents before heading out the door and catching a cab.
When my driver parks across the street from the pizzeria, I start to pay my fare, but then I see Libby walk out of the shop wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a simple long-sleeve T-shirt. Her hair is tied up in a bun, and her face is clean of makeup. She looks over her shoulder at a man walking out of the pizzeria behind her and smiles at him.
Walter . . . ? What the fuck is he doing with her, and why the fuck is she smiling at him?
I fight the urge to get out of the cab and bash his face in.
I absently rub my chest over my heart as they head down the block.
She’s moved on. She’s already moved on. I let things go too long, and she started seeing someone else. How the fuck did I lose her already?
“You gonna get out, man?” the cab driver asks.
I pull my attention away from Libby and shake my head.
“No, I changed my mind.” I give him directions back to my place.
When I get home, I change into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, then head out for a run. I need to get out some of the rage coursing through me. I know that if I don’t get rid of it I’m liable to do something completely stupid, like go to Libby’s apartment, kidnap her, bring her back to my place, and tie her to the bed until she forgets all about stupid fucking Walter.
Two days later, I’m parked in front of Princess Pizza and wondering what the hell I’m doing. The last two days have been hell. I haven’t slept and barely ate. I’ve spent most of my time trying to convince myself that if Libby is over me, then I need to get over her. But no matter what I say to myself, I can’t do it. I’m in love with her, and it’s time that I prove that by fighting for us. I called my mom this afternoon and asked her what time the party was this evening. Paying the cab driver, I get out and head into the pizzeria.
The space looks completely different from the last time I was here. The walls have been painted two different shades of pink, and there are new tables with black tops and chrome seats. Colorful framed paintings hanging around the room look like they were done by little kids. Fairy-tale castles, dragons, princesses and princes, horses and unicorns. I pull my eyes off the new art on the walls and scan all the happy faces in the room. I have no idea how the fuck I talked myself into this.
Right . . . for Libby.
My eyes zero in on her as soon as she steps away from an older gentleman. My heart starts to pound hard against my rib cage. She looks beautiful tonight. She’s wearing a long black dress that’s tied at her waist. Her dark hair is down around her shoulders, and her face is made up almost like it was the night I took her out for our first date. I pull in a few deep breaths to build up the courage I need to do this.
She must sense my eyes on her, because her gaze comes directly to me. Her eyes widen, then fill with worry and fear.
“Antonio.” I hear her whisper my name even over the noise in the room. It feels like time stops as we do nothing but stare at each other.
Without telling my feet to do it, I take a step toward her. My hands start to shake. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Walter standing with a group of people. I turn to glare at him, ignoring the knowing grin he’s wearing before I return my attention to Libby.
“Antonio. What are you doing here?”
“We’re at the part where I need to beg for your forgiveness,” I say.
Her body goes still, and even her breathing seems to stop. Closing the distance between us, I go to her and get down on my knees. I take both her hands in mine. I don’t give a fuck that everyone in the room has stopped talking. All I care about is the woman in front of me.
“There’s this guy. He met a girl, a perfect girl. The perfect girl for him, and he was a jerk to her.”
“Antonio.” Her eyes close as her hands start to shake, so I hold her more firmly.
“That girl hopefully fell in love with that guy—despite the fact that he doesn’t deserve her.”
“She did.” Her eyes open to meet mine.
“That guy was an idiot.” I shake my head. “He was self-centered, selfish, and in the end, an even bigger jerk to the girl. He should have taken better care of her.” Tears start to fill her beautiful eyes. “He probably made her cry a lot.”
“He did,” she tells me. “He also made me drink a lot,” she says with a shy smile.
“I hate that, Princess,” I whisper. “I hate that I made you cry. I hate that I fucked up. I hate that I walked away from you.” My throat starts to get tight with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Princess. So fucking sorry that I didn’t listen when you tried to talk to me. Sorry that I didn’t trust you the way that I should have. I love you, Libby. Please forgive me for being an asshole.”
“I’m sorry, too, you know,” she says as tears start to track down her cheeks. “And of course I forgive you. It’s my job to take you back even when I shouldn’t.”
She whispers the last part, and I bury my face against her stomach while I wrap my arms tightly around her waist. Her body curls around mine, and her mouth rests against the top of my head.
“I love you, Antonio.”
“I love you, too, Princess. So fucking much.” I stand and gather her tightly against my chest when I hear her sob and feel her tuck her face into my neck.
“Show’s over,” someone says loudly.
I pick her up and carry her to the office, through the crowd of people. I kick the door shut with my foot once we’re inside. I don’t look around to see the changes she’s made; I just take a seat on the couch and hold her in my lap, running my hand up and down her back.
