Page 12 of Always You
My stomach lurches. My appetite is gone. I never thought I’d run into Mila again. I called her numerous times once doctors gave me the good news. Her phone was out of service. I presumptively thought they disconnected her phone since she was living with her grandmother and money was tight. I kept trying to call. Finally, my mother had gotten a hold of her. She announced the good news that I was in the clear and Mila hung up on her basically saying I was a burden to her. “I think I ate too fast. I have an upset stomach now. We should go,” I lie. Seeing Mila has opened a wound that’s raging with pain and bitterness.
I wrap my arms around Samantha as we walk to my truck. As I’m starting the engine, she leaps onto my lap. Her dress rides up, revealing her laced thong. Her long, blonde hair flows beautifully as she straddles me, and my dick is currently not interested in her—limp. It simply has one girl in mind, and it only took five minutes of her beauty, her taste, and her touch. Samantha trails kisses all over my neck. I had thought we were developing a little chemistry between us, but after tonight I realize it’s just not there.
My feelings for Mila are consuming me, and it’s all wrong. Mila is my past, Samantha is my present and my future. Covering my mouth with hers, I kiss her fiercely with anger. Anger for the woman who blew in like a hurricane.
I express my passion through our kiss—our tongues intertwined, our movements as one. All thoughts of Mila have vanished, replaced with the taste of Samantha. My hips grind against hers, wanting to make my dick come alive. I want Samantha to feel my desire for her. Fuck, my dick is only interested in one woman. I’m overwhelmed and frustrated by guilt; it eats at me for pinning for Mila and cheating on my beautiful fiancée, who was only feet away. Samantha has been nothing but kind to me despite her neediness. I have reminisced about Mila throughout the years. The truth is no one measured up to Mila. Until I started dating Samantha, I refused to think about my past. But then I put forth the effort to move on and let myself fall for Samantha. I knew that it was not healthy to dwell on a Mila who had completely disregarded me. Samantha became my remedy for all the pain I had experienced. Samantha's my Band-Aid to my wounds. I proposed to her when my mom insisted it would be a great idea to settle down.
“What’s your problem, baby, you seem angry.”
“Nothing, I’m just tired. I had a long day, and you wanted to go out for dinner.”
She maneuvers her way to the passenger’s seat annoyed, and tucks her legs, folding her arms across her chest. “Stay the night, baby, at my place, or I can stay at yours?”
“I can’t tonight. I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, and I have to go to the office early.” My words come out harsher than I had intended. I could sense her frustration, as she rolls her eyes and tries to blow off her disappointment through a series of huffs and puffs. She has a tendency to display childlike behavior when she doesn’t get what she wants.
* * *
I walk up and down my small, cramped office, raking my fingers through my hair. All night I stayed up staring at my ceiling recalling last night. I felt her the minute I walked in. Her beautiful emerald eyes were already on me. So many emotions flashed in her, one in particular, hurt. A pained look marred her face for a quick second before a stony glaze seized her.
Being the asshole that I am, I kissed Samantha, to see what Mila would do. It was a fucked-up thing to do, but fuck it, she left me. The bitter bastard in me took over. She’s definitely not the same woman I fell in love with. No kind-hearted woman would abandon a man in his time of need, especially when he is ill. I showed my love effortlessly to her. I gave her my heart, my soul. I treated her like a queen. I was there for her when her father died in a tragic fire. I grieved her every day for the memories we built together. Promises of our future she disposed of.
I slam the door of my truck shut, the sound echoing through the still night air. I run up her driveway and stop on her porch, a wilted corsage in my hand. Tonight is our winter ball and I want tonight to be special for her.
Mila's nana opens the door, her eyes widening as she takes in my nervous energy.
“Mila!” she calls into the house, and I wait anxiously for her to appear. When she finally steps into the foyer, my breath catches in my throat—it is almost as if time itself has stopped.
She’s beautiful.
The baby blue of her dress highlights her emerald eyes. We enter the gymnasium at the school. I tightly embrace her. As the DJ changes the tune to a slow song, I look into her eyes and murmur, “Let's dance, Angel.” With that, I take her hand and lead her onto the dance floor.
She chuckles. “You didn’t give me time to say yes.”
“It wasn’t a question,” I say, embracing her tightly.
She responds by coiling her arms around my neck and pressing her lips against mine. We intensify our kiss rapidly, pressing our lips together heatedly and forcefully. We sway together to the rhythm of the music. “You look beautiful. I love you so damn much, Angel.”
She pants into my mouth, our hot breaths mingling. “I love you too, Dominic.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here, baby.” I take her hand and we walk out back to my truck to be alone so I can show her just how much I love her.
I force myself to emerge from my daze. Mila’s been fucking with my head. I resume going through paperwork and creating my list of the supplies I'll need for the restaurant. The past has been slamming right through me and taking me back down memory lane.
* * *
I trudge inside my spacious yet still somehow lonesome two-story condo, hurling my keys onto the entryway table and stumbling to the kitchen. I grab a beer from the almost bare fridge, wishing it were more stocked as I walk back to the living room. As soon as I plop down on the couch in an attempt to forget about my shitty day, my phone pulls me back into reality with a shrill ring. I check the screen, it’s my older brother Santiago, who is the oldest of us three. He’s five years older than me. He’s the womanizer in the family, has a different girl every week. I can’t recall him ever having a girlfriend.
“Hey bro, how’s it going? How are things at the restaurant?” He sounds chirpy. He probably just got laid.Fucker.
Before it all went to shit, and I got sick with cancer, I wanted to honor Mila’s parents before I declared we would open a restaurant. Her face lit up like the Fourth of July. When my health improved, I made a choice to go to culinary school—opened up Delgado’s Steak House. With an inclination to find Mila to show her what I did for her, forus. I kept my word. Even after her betrayal.
“Doing good, bro. Just got home from work. You know, same old shit.”
“How are things going at the shop going?” Santiago just opened his own automotive shop a year ago.
“It’s good, dude; it’s picking up getting busy.”
“Good to hear.” Not sure how Santiago will react once I tell him I saw Mila. When Mila and I dated, he got along with her. Until shit hit the fan when she brushed me off. He fucking hated her. Clearing my throat, I’m not sure why I feel so damn nervous telling him this.
