Page 140 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

“You know, you don’t have to invalidate your feelings because you’re trying to carefully tiptoe around mine.”

I spin around to face him. “Why? Why did you tell me thisnow? It’s too late. It doesn’t matter now.”

“Yeah, it does.” He reaches out to lightly stroke my cheek. “Last week, after you told me about the house with three rooms, I realized these unanswered questions are still haunting younineyears later, and I can’t keep doing this to you, Bella, so...I asked my sister if I could tell you and she agreed. A big part of me still wanted to preserve the air pocket, but I’ve been listening to the hurt in your voice for weeks now and...” He shrugs. “...it was time to let the water in.”

It’s like I lose control of my body because I throw myself at him, my arms curling tightly around his neck. It shocks him because it takes a beat or two before his arms tentatively wrap around me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for what happened to your sister and what that did to your family. I’m sorry I hurt you when you were already going through so much. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should’ve been better. I’m so sorry for everything, Dylan.”

He presses me closer to his chest, and for a few moments, I forget about all the pain we’ve caused each other, and I just feel him, smell him, take in the strength and solace that I’ve only ever found in these particular arms. I feel myself melting against him and try to pull away because I don’t want to get sucked into this again, but he tightens his grip.

“Don’t,” he mumbles softly. “Just stay here with me for a little longer.”

Despite my better judgment, I oblige, but it barely lasts a minute. The second I feel his nose nuzzling the side of my neck, it’s my cue to end it. He’s a weakness of mine, and if he keeps holding me and caressing my back like that, I’m going to do something stupid. I step back and quickly recompose myself. An uncomfortable silence lingers after I pull away.

The smile that curves on his lips shows his awkwardness. “Aaannd...you’re back to hating me.”

“Don’t mistake my empathy for forgiveness. I’m sorry I hurt you. I was wrong to do what I did. After everything you told me today, I can understand your behavior before. You were just a kid...but none of that excuses the fact that you’re the biggest jerk for doing what you did to me a few weeks ago.”

He lets out a sigh that sounds almost helpless because he acknowledges how badly he messed up. And even now, instead of telling me why he disappeared on Christmas morning, he chooses to sidestep the issue. “Can we at least try to be friends?”

The idea is laughable. He’s in a relationship with another woman. He slept with me and he’s keeping that fact a secret by lying to her continuously. How can he even ask me to be his friend? Does he expect to hide me forever? I mean, I know he’s exceptionally talented at keeping secrets, but I can’t be a part of that. I don’t know Fran and I don’t owe her any loyalty, but I’m staying out of whatever messed up game he’s playing. If he’s unhappy in his relationship, he needs to sort that out with her. I refuse to be the side chick, the one who bringsexcitementto his life. I played that role before, and it didn’t work out well.

“I’m just a weird prop to you, Dylan. You use me to escape the parts of your life that you’re not happy with. You used me when we were teenagers, you used me again last Christmas. I’d be stupid to let you use meagain, so no, I don’t even want to be friends.”

He nods. “Mmm...You know, the next time you decide to take a trip down memory lane, take off your turmoil-tainted glasses. I promise things will look very different.”

That’s his entire argument. He doesn’t say anything else. He just stares at me as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. I know that look on his face. That’s hisI’m-not-entertaining-crazyface. He doesn’t engage when he’s in this mood, so I end the conversation there.

“Let me reiterate. Going forward, we’ll confine our chats to that room. Outside of it, I want nothing to do with you.” I give a stiff nod. “Eight more sessions and then we never have to see each other again. I cannot wait until you’re out of my life for good.”

“Okay.” He smiles humorlessly, like he knows I’m lying. “So, same time next week?”

“Same time next week, De Lorenzo.” I turn on my heel and continue walking toward the elevator.

“Let me know if you have any fantasies about me and my flapping dong,” he taunts from behind me.

Without looking back, I lift my middle finger and flip him off. A soft chuckle is his only response. I step into the elevator, and I’m forced to face him when I turn to tap the down button. He’s still staring at me with that weird smile on his face. As the doors close in front of me, he presses two fingers to his lips and blows me a kiss. That gesture totally flusters me, and I’m torn between the past and present, my new feelings clashing with old ones. The emotions swirling inside me are so hard to separate, and once again, I can’t discern if it’s anger or hurt, lust or regret, love or hate, because I feel everything. He is just...everything.

“Fuck,” I groan, dropping my head back against the elevator wall. “A debacle indeed.”

End of Part One

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