Page 68 of Reckless Fate

“What can we do?” Sydney decides, by the sound of it, that well-meant advice won’t land on fertile ground.

“Leave,” I say. One can hope, after all.

She lets the air out through pursed lips and Gio puts his phone away.

“Look, bro,” he says. “Do you want to go out and get laid?”

“What?” Sydney gasps.

“Exclusive escort.” Gio shrugs and looks back at me for support.

“That sounds good,” I say, not sure why, because I’ve been to Gio’s gentlemen’s club many times before I learned—by experience—that I can’t fuck Gina out of my system.

“You two are idiots. Can we focus on something actually productive? I think you should talk to her, Massi. There must be a reasonable explanation. Maybe you can’t forgive her for what she’s done, but at least you should hear her out. It would help you get closure.”

“If you knew what your husband did with all your money, would you get closure?” It’s a low blow, but I’ll do anything to shift the attention to someone else’s shit show.

Sydney sucks in a breath but shakes off the attack. “It’s not about forgiveness—though that would be the most productive way to move forward—but about understanding. She was your wife once, you loved her.”

“Not once,” I admit automatically. Suddenly it feels like keeping it all in would be suicidal.

“You’re still in love with her? Dude, it’s been what, twenty years?” Gio huffs.

“Seventeen. It’s been seventeen years and yes, I fucking love her. We got back together a couple of weeks ago.” The anger boils in the marrow of my bones and I jump up to pace. “I gave her my heart on a platter and she carved a hole in it again.”

“But why?” Sydney asks.

“I wish I knew,” I holler. Syd winces and sits up straighter while Gio raises his eyebrows.

“Listen, asshole, she is no longer with Frederick, and if she got back together with you she really has nothing to gain from this.”

“Not everything is about fucking gains and profits, you dickhead.” I’m losing it, all the signs are there. My heart rate is through the roof, my chest heaves, but there is no oxygen coming in. The dry mouth and nausea might relate to my hangover, but I recognize them for what they more likely are. “Just get out of here. Get the fuck out of here.”

Sydney stands up. “Massi.”

Gio follows. “What the fuck?”

“Get out of here. Get the fuck out of here!”

I can hear their voices, but they echo, incomprehensible, in my mind. I storm into my bedroom, Sydney’s shocked face the last picture I register.

I slam my door closed and collapse to the floor. I’m on all fours, unable to draw air in. I try to calm my breathing, counting. Thinking positive thoughts usually helps, but I can’t access any.

I remember the three-three-three technique. Name three things you see, then three sounds you hear and move three of your body parts. I should be able to do that. I look around, scrambling to name three things, and my eyes land on the box with the watches Gina collected for me over the years. Definitely not helping.

I squeeze my eyes shut when the door clicks. “I said get out!” The words come out a wheeze.

Light blue heels blur in front of me. My elbows buckle and I drop my head to the carpet. A warm hand touches me between my shoulder blades. It works, so I don’t snarl. Slowly, my breathing regulates to its normal levels.

As I stop hyperventilating, I become hyper-aware of my surroundings. The scent of the meadow hits my nose, awakening a picture in my head. One that I can’t see right now. Not yet. Not ever.

But she is here, and again her presence is the calming element missing from my life. Regardless of how much I don’t want her here.

I fucking need to change the guest list downstairs.

I turn to sit, my back against the bed. I hear a sigh. I don’t have the energy to open my eyes or fight with her right now. Water runs in the bathroom and then she taps my shoulder. I pry my eyes open, but don’t look up. She hands me a glass. I take it and drink, the glue in my mouth dissolving.

I push myself off the floor. My head swims slightly but I stand upright, and when I finally look at her, my heart squeezes with pain. Blue’s face is bloated with tears. Small red lines weave through her eyes.

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