He moves a step away from me. “I love to speak it.”
“Then speak it!” I say louder. “Be yourself. You're not the same man now that you were last night. You're definitely not the man I had a magical night with.”
“I am the same man,” he says, setting his jaw. “You have only known me for one night. Evelyn and I had seven years together.”
Oh, please. “And how many nights with her were like last night with me?”
“It is none of your business.”
That sounded like a dismissal. I am officially angry now. “She divorced you, gave up on you, quit you when you needed her most. She didn't even try.”
“And I have promised to win her back. I will keep that promise.”
No fucking way! “After sleeping with me? Wait. We weren't sleeping, Dante. We were devouring each other. I have never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you last night, and you sure seemed to want me just as badly.”
“But we cannot, Christiana, we cannot.”
This shit isn't happening. “This is no fling, Dante. We talked before, during, and after sex. We cuddled. We woke up smiling together. It happened. It's happening.
We're
happening. I want it to happen, Dante. Did I complain about the fishing in any way?”
“No.”
“Did I complain about climbing the mountain or training or skiing?”
“No.”
I point at the kitchen window. “Hasn't Evelyn been one long complaint that never ends?”
“I have not heard her complain,” Dante says.
Oh, geez! “She doesn't have to complain out loud, Dante. She is a silent complainer. If she likes something, she says nothing. If she doesn't like something, she is so silent she's deafening. You understand?”
“No.”
“The witch doesn't say a positive or nice thing to anyone, not even to you!” I yell.
“She said I looked good,” he says softly.
Only to mess with me. “Listen, Dante, you have fun with me. You can be yourself around me. You can speak your mind around me. You can argue with me. I'm good for you. There isn't anything you do that I wouldn't try. And I'm a pretty decent sparring partner, aren't I? I can take a punch. You hit Evelyn with a little jab, and she'll fall over and die.”
I expect him to laugh a little, but he doesn't. “She is tougher than you think. She has a tough job in the emergency room. It takes guts to do what she does.”
He has a point. I get a little light-headed just cleaning a fish. “I meant that I'm physically tough and she's not.”
He looks far out into the distance. “In my mind, she is still my wife, Christiana.”
Oh, for the love of . . . “She's not . . . your . . . wife . . . anymore.”
“I must make it work.”
This is too much! “Only
you
work. Only
you
are trying to make it work. You send the flowers, and she says to stop. You have to win a boxing match to get a single date. You have to win a championship belt to win another chance at taking her down the aisle. Shouldn't that tell you something?”
“A woman should always be treated like a queen.”
Geez! “While your life goes to shit?”
He doesn't answer.
“I'm beginning to figure all this out now,” I say, and I am pretty sure, too. “You feel guilty about last night, don't you? You feel like you've cheated on her. She divorced you ten years ago, but the first time you sleep with another woman, you feel guilty. Admit it.”
“You do not understand,” he says.
“I think I do,” I say.
“Marriage is forever,” he says. “The law, those papersâthey don't change that. When I win the fight, we will try again. I have promised, and she has promised.”
Evelyn made a promise? “When did she promise?”
“Today. While I was swimming.”
I should have gone swimming. “You mean, she didn't promise you
until
today?”
“She said before that she was giving it serious thought. Today, she has made her decision.”
He is so naive! “Dante, she's only promising because I'm here. Don't you see that?”
I've never seen him look so agitated. “What does it matter why or when she promised? She promised. That is good enough for me.”
Here we go again. “Didn't she once promise to be your wife?”
“I let her down. I was no longer winning. I was a loser. I was not a champion anymore. She had every right to leave.”
“What about for better or worse?” I ask. “What about that?”
“So we are still in worse,” he says. “After I win, it will get better.”
“And last night means nothing now?”
He closes his eyes. “Yes. I mean, no. I am so confused.” He turns and looks at me, his eyebrows knitted together. “You mean much to me. I did not think I could ever care for anyone else. I did not think I could ever make love to anyone else. You are everything a man could want. I close my eyes and I see you.”
Oh, this is much better. I like where this is heading. “Am I naked?”
“Yes.”
“And are we together? Are you inside me?”
“Yes. No. I
cannot
want you, don't you see? I should still want Evelyn.”
If he mentions her name one more time, I'm going to hit him below the belt. “You don't want her. If you close your eyes and see me, you cannot want her.”
“Like I said, it is complicated.”
I am so confused right now! “So what am I to you right this second?”
“I . . . I do not know.”
That clears up a bunch. Thanks, Dante.
“You are honest,” he says. “You are fair. You have deep beauty, inside. You have made me smile. Your body is . . . You are perfection.”
I am not going down without a fight. “I give you pleasure, don't I?”
“Very much.”
“I kept you up all night, right?”
“Yes.”
“You know I'd share every part of your life with you, don't you?”
He almost smiles. “I think you would.”
“You know I believe in you, right?” I ask softly.
“Yes, Christiana. I know you believe in me.”
I squeeze his hand and hold onto it. “Dante, I know in my heart that you can win this fight. She doesn't. She will only remarry you if you win. That
has
to tell you something.”
He worms out of my hand. “It is her way of motivating me.”
He dropped my hand. Shit. “But she gives you pain. How is that motivation? She has a separate life from yours. She does not believe in you. She is most likely praying that you will lose so she won't have to break your heart again.”
He squares his shoulders in front of me. It's almost as if he's bucking at me! “How do you know all this? You have known her for less than a day.”
Nice opening. “I knew you for about the same time before I chose to give you my heart.”
Shit.
Shit shit.
Did I say that out loud? Shit. I did.
And now he's completely silent.
Damage control? Or just go for it? I have to go down swinging. “I'm giving you my heart, Dante. Freely, and with no reservations. It's yours.”
That actually felt right. Thirty-five years I've waited to give my heart away, and here it is, on an outcropping at Aylen Lake, Ontario, Canada, to a man whose ex-wife is watching us from the kitchen window.
My timing for life's big moments really sucks.
“But I cannot give you my heart, Christiana,” he says. “Not now.”
I close my eyes. My timing just sucks all around, and what he just said just about seals it. I take both of his hands anyway. I'm a big girl. I've been through my share of rejection and heartache. I know when to walk away from a fight I can't win. “I know you can't give me your heart, Dante. But I need to know what I have to do to earn it. How can I capture your heart?”
“I do not know. If we only had more time, I could figure all this out.”
Ah. The old “I need more time.” He needs space, time, and distance. Oh, shit. I'm starting to tear up. “You want time? I can give you that.” I try to smile, but my bottom lip won't cooperate. Oh great. Now I'm trembling all over. See what you started, lower lip? “I'll give you all the time you need. I'm . . . I guess I'm leaving.”
“
Che?
But it is getting late. You said your flight is not until Monday morning.”
I lied. “I can always get a flight out tomorrow. It's no trouble. I need to sort out a few things myself. The drive will help me clear my head.”
“You leave tonight? It is so late. The roads are dark.”
I punch him playfully on the shoulder while my heart breaks into a trillion pieces. “Hey, don't worry about me. Worry about Tank Washington kicking your ass.”
I walk past him to Red and Lelani's cottage. I strip out of Evelyn's sweats and put my own clothes on. I find my laptop and camera case on a love seat and start for the door.
Dante blocks it. “Are you always this . . .
impetuosa
?”
“Yes. I am.” I kiss him hard on the lips. “It's one of the things you like about me.” I try to push past him.
“Do not leave. Wait. In the morning, I will be able to think more clearly.”
I shake my head. “Maybe I can clear things up for you.” I poke him in the chest. “You need me. You do not need her.”
“And in the morning, maybe I will see this.”
I sigh. “The only way you'll see that is if I go away and ignore you for a while.”
“Che?”
“You want some time, I'm giving you time.”
His eyes widen. “But that is not fair!”
“Life ain't fair, Dante,” I say. “I thought you knew that.” I push past him.
“She will tire of this place,” he whispers behind me.
I whirl on him. “Why are you whispering?”
He starts to speak and stops.
“You can yell your damn head off with me,” I say. “You can howl at the moon all you want with me. Half the lake heard us fucking last night.”
“Shh, shh,” he whispers.
“See? With her, you have to whisper.” I turn to face him. “With me, you can yell. That's the difference between Evelyn and me. Do you want to whisper your way through life or yell your head off?” I walk to the outcropping for one last look. I pull out my camera and take several shots of the sunset with the island in the foreground.
“Evelyn will leave on her own in no time,” he says softly. “She always does. She is here to get DJ. They will go, and then we can figure this out.”
I put my camera back in its case. “Dante, you're sweet, but you are about the most naive and gullible person I have ever met. Evelyn will stay as long as I stay.”
“You do not know her like I do.”
I start for the stairs. “I think I do. She never had any competition before, right?”
“This is not a competition.”
I stop at the top of the stairs. “Uh, yeah, it is. Unless you haven't been paying attention today, two women want you. I want you, and Evelyn seems to want you.” If only to keep me from having Dante. “I think I have better reasons than she does, but what do I know? I am only a
scrittore cattivo.
”
He steps in front of me with his arms crossed. “What are these reasons?”
“I've been telling you my reasons, Dante,” I fume. “Haven't you been listening?”
“Tell them to me again,” he says.
“Okay, I'll break it down for you. You don't have to
do
anything for me.” I look at Evelyn looking at me from the screened porch. The bitch probably walked out there so she could hear us better. “You don't have to win any titles for me!” I shout. I turn and kiss his cheek. “I have to go now.” I start down the stairs.
“I do not want you to go, Christiana.”
Whatever.
I jump into the rental boat, laying my cases on the middle seat. I go to untie the front rope, but Dante's hand blocks me.
“When this is all over . . .” he says.
“When
what
is all over? I thought it
was
all over.” I push his hand away and untie the rope.
“When this is all over, I would like . . . I am confused now. In my heart. You have . . . You are in my heart.”
Just “in.” I don't own a thing about this man. So much for possessing him. “But I don't
have
your heart, right?”
“There is a difference?”
I roll my eyes. “Uh, yeah. But don't sweat it. A few more days with Evelyn, and I'll be a memory.” I go to the back rope and untie it, the boat floating a few inches away from the dock.
“You could never be a memory, Christiana. Never.”
I shouldn't do this, but . . . it's ultimatum time. “Then choose. Right now. This second. Her or me.”
“You cannot expect me to make this choice this second.”
I shake my head slowly and close my eyes. “You've already decided then, Dante. Good-bye.”
He drops to the dock and kicks out his legs, hooking them over the side of the boat. He pulls it back to the dock.
“Pericoloso.”
“That's right, Dante, I'm dangerous,” I say. “Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. That's what I am, man. You handled me pretty well last night, but could you handle me for the rest of your life? I doubt it. You're too soft for me. I can go the distance. Can you?”