Page 12 of Did My Heart Love Till Now?

“O-okay.” She stuttered as she sluggishly stood and left the room.

I followed her downstairs, making sure she got to her car safely. I held the door open as she got in. She reached over to close it, but I grabbed the corner.

“What?” She glared up at me with a troubled face.

I readied myself to speak, but could not will sound from my lips. There was no way to tell her I wanted to see her again. She was safer away from me. We both were. My silence annoyed her. She rolled her eyes and closed the door. Stepping into the street, I stood in the middle of the road running my fingers through my hair, watching her drive away.

HONK!

I jumped back up on the curb promptly as a car sped by.

4

With reluctance in my steps, I lumbered upstairs, skipping steps along the way. Sauntering into the kitchen without saying a word, I prepared a fresh cup of coffee since mine had gotten cold. Lazily leaning on the cabinets, I took a sip. Joey sat on the island counter staring at me. He swung his legs, making a small thud sound every time the heels of his shoes tapped a cabinet door.

“So, you're just going to stand there and drink your coffee and not explain to me what the hell just happened?”

Lifting my gaze, I set my mug on the counter and crossed my arms over my chest. “What would you like to know?” I pointed at the knife. “That I cut her clothes off her?” I gestured to the island. “That I fucked her right where you're sitting?”

Nose wrinkled, he slid off the surface slowly, dusting off the back of his pants. I snorted. He ambled to the other side of the kitchen, pointing at another countertop.

“Did you fuck here too?”

“Not yet.” I smirked.

Jumping backwards, he sat. Eyes rolling back and forth, he buried his head in his palms. “Brooo, why her? Why?!” He groaned, meeting my gaze.

Why was it so hard to let me enjoy my morning coffee in peace? I poured it out in the sink and placed my mug in the dishwasher. Ignoring him, I strolled to the area where I painted in the living room. He followed me, pacing back and forth behind me as I mixed paints.

A laugh erupted from his mouth. “My only love sprung from my only hate.”

I shook my finger at him. “Do not quote Shakespeare at me.” I zoned out, brushing strokes of cream-colored paint on the unrecognizable artwork.

He sat on the couch and reached over, taking my acoustic guitar off a nearby stand. His fingers strummed notes as I zoned out. My mind raced circles as I thought about her. It all felt like a dream today.

“I’m just saying we all know how that tragic play ends.” Joey continued.

Rolling my eyes, I spun around holding a wet paintbrush out. “Yeah, well we're not Romeo and Juliet.”

Abruptly, he slapped the strings on the guitar, causing them to silence sharply. “Gavino, you guys are absolutely exactly like Romeo and Juliet.”

“I don't foresee myself drinking poison or marrying her less than twenty-four hours after our first kiss.”

“Not that!” He shifted his eyes toward the canvas then back at me. “This whole shit is going to cause a bigger war between our families.”

“Well, that won't happen.” I pivoted back to my artwork, painting. “I won't be seeing her again.”

What he said bothered me a lot. My jaw began to stiffen. I thought about my original plan to defy my father and use her to wreak havoc within the families. Just as I was getting lost in my thoughts, the doorbell rang. Joey rested the guitar back on the stand and went downstairs.

Moments later he returned with my sister and one of her friends who I did not recognize. I was so lost in my own world, that I only caught a glimpse from the corner of my eye. I squatted down, dragging the bristles of my paintbrush across the bottom of the picture.

“What's up?” I greeted them as friendly as I could while working.

Chiara spoke first in a cheerful tone. “Whatcha painting now?”

I shrugged and took a step back, examining my work. “I have no idea, just whatever.”

“Hmm. Looks cool so far.” She giggled. “Oh, this is my friend, Juliet.”

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