Page 23 of Seductive Desires

I ignored her, picking up my pace. I’m not going anywhere with you.

I didn’t hear her throw the car into park, didn’t hear her following me over the sobs until she grabbed my elbow, spinning me around.

“Don’t do this.”

I jerked my arm away. “Don’t touch me!”

She ran her hand through her short hair. “Mariana, just listen–”

“No! Stay away from me!” I spun on my heel, almost running to get away. I had to stop at a traffic light, the road too busy to cross safely.

“He loves you, Mariana.”

I felt suspended in time as she continued to shout at me. She wasn’t following me anymore. Just yelling.

“He told me he’s never felt like this before. The whole week before you dropped off that painting, he couldn’t stop talking about you.”

My shoulders shook and I wrapped my arms around my stomach. She didn’t know what she was talking about. He didn’t know me. It was lust, not love, and we’d get over it eventually. Right?

The light turned green and I stared at it. I wanted to turn around, to go back and let him explain. But I knew it wouldn’t be any different. And I couldn’t be with a criminal. That isn’t who I am. The light started flashing red. I wouldn’t be able to cross soon if I didn’t go now.

“Mariana, please!”

I dug my nails into my palms and forced my feet to move. Away from Amari. Away from the hospital. Away from Mateo… I started slow but with every step I picked up the pace until I was running. And I kept running, even though it was way too far to my apartment. I couldn’t stop though. Because if I stopped, I’d break apart and I’d never be able to get back up again.

* * *

It’s beenfour weeks since I left Mateo in the hospital. It was getting warmer outside and the sun was out more. The first week after I left the hospital, Mateo called every day trying to get me to talk to him. I thought about changing my number but the idea of it made me want to cry. All of it made me want to cry. I was surprisingly heartbroken over a guy I went on one date with. Two if you count the gala. I had felt like we had a strong connection and was crushed when that all went out the window.

After a week of not picking up his calls, Mateo started sending flowers and apology cards. They started off at my apartment until I called the company that kept delivering them and told them to leave me alone. Then he started sending them to Carlos’s studio. I would throw them away instantly until Carlos started bringing them home to Andrew instead. I wasn’t quite sure if he was telling Andrew why he had them or not.

The third week he must have finally been released from the hospital because he showed up. I was leaving my apartment and he sat leaning against his car, waiting for me, the scarf I made him around his neck. I instantly turned around and went back inside, locking the door and calling out of work. I wasn’t afraid of him, I just didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. He tried to show up while I was at work once too and I hid upstairs until Carlos made him leave.

He finally took the hint and this last week has been quiet. No calls, no flowers, no showing up at my doorstep pleading for me to talk to him. I should be grateful. I should be overjoyed that he finally was listening and leaving me be. I should not be crying in bed! Get up, Mariana!

“Mari! Open up!”

Ugh. Carlos has been hovering since everything happened. He shows up at my apartment randomly with tequila and demands I come over to his place to play games with him and Andrew.

“Go away!”

“You know I have a key, right?”

I buried my face into my pillow, ignoring him. I could hear him let himself in but I didn’t bother moving. He wouldn’t let me sulk for long.

“Chica, you need to get over him already.” He plopped himself onto my bed, laying next to me.

I lifted my face long enough to glare at him. “I am over him. Shut up.” I buried my face again.

He snorted. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Is Andrew pregnant?” I quipped, though it was muffled.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” he replied sarcastically. He paused for a minute, staring at the ceiling. “Andrew and I are going on vacation.”

I flipped over, sighing. “Good for you.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t touched the money that…” I glared when he tried to say his name. “That the last big customer sent and apparently it’s our first date anniversary or something. Andrew has always wanted to go to Paris so I am taking the next two weeks off. And I’m giving you a paid holiday too.”

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