LOS ANGELES OR PALERMO??
1688 Words
As soon as she arrived at the Delano Hotel, Chiara immediately regretted having left Carlo to go and talk to a man with whom, yes, she had shared eight years of her life, but who she no longer recognized.
Even that jealous outburst wasn't like him, let alone fighting or being aggressive with her.
He would never, ever waste all that time on someone like that.
Seeing him appear in Los Angeles was beyond her wildest imagination. Daniele hated flying and his schedule was so packed that his absence from Palermo was unthinkable.
A part of her was happy to have provoked that reaction in him, which perhaps she had hoped for, except that when she had hoped for it, it had never even crossed her mind what could happen with Carlo.
The woman still seemed in shock at having found him in front of her a few seconds before kissing Carlo.
They were already about to kill each other like that, imagine if he had seen them being intimate.
Chiara clenched her fists, cursing herself and her ex-boyfriend. She was running the immense risk of ruining Carlo's life as well as her own, and she just couldn't allow that.
As the protective instinct towards him was always very high.
He was grown up now and could take care of himself, yet she still felt responsible for his happiness and felt that unfortunately he would have a fuller and happier life without her. She knew the price would be high, but not that high, she thought as she walked through the door of the Delano. She didn't have his room number, so she asked for him at the front desk.
The girl behind the counter made a phone call, then told her cordially:
"Mr. Fuentes is waiting for you in the room. 194".
"Can you call him back for me please?" she asked, fully intent on not setting foot in his room.
She waited a few seconds and then Daniele's gruff voice reached her.
She would have liked to answer him back in kind, but she didn't want to make an already delicate situation worse.
"I'll wait for you at the bar," she said tersely, hanging up immediately afterwards so as not to give him the opportunity to reply.
When she arrived at the bar, the waiter immediately asked her what she wanted to drink.
In fact, to sustain that distressing conversation, something strong was really needed.
"A whiskey on the rocks," she ordered, hoping it would give her the strength to face what lay ahead.
After only five minutes, Daniel joined her at her table. He was wearing the same white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and army green pants as before, the only difference was that his short graying hair had been generously covered in gel.
"Why didn't you go up to your room?" she asked suspiciously.
"Because we can talk very well here too."
He looked around looking for who knows who.
"Did you bring your bodyguard with you?" he joked, thinking he was being funny, but Chiara felt like crying.
"Look," she tried to get straight to the point.
"As I told you on the phone, I'm sorry I ran away like that on Saturday, but I really couldn't take it anymore. The last year has been the worst of my life. If I continue like this, I'll soon find myself depressed or in a hospital...".
Luckily the waiter arrived with the whiskey and she took a long, supportive sip while Daniele stared at her like an alien.
"Have you seen yourself? You've only been here five days and you've already become an alcoholic and don't come and tell me that this is also my fault".
That man was hurting her for the umpteenth time and as usual she was taking it.
She felt the alcohol rush into her veins and give her the strength to get up.
"If you intend to continue to offend me, I warn you that I will leave immediately."
"No, you're right, I'm sorry. It's just that on Saturday my world fell apart," he lowered his wounded gaze and Chiara felt a pang of pity. After all, she had loved him so much that she could never have hated him.
"I understand you. For me too it was a very painful decision, but necessary."
At that point he changed strategy once again.
"Please, enough with the past. It happened. Period. Now we are here and I have an incredible desire to have dinner with you."
"Daniel, this doesn't seem like a good idea to me."
"Chiara, I told you I was wrong, I'm sorry and I understand your reasons. I'm not asking you to get back together. I just want to stay on good terms. Is that too much to ask?"
During dinner, Daniele was affable, showering her with compliments and continually refilling her glass of wine. At first, she was anxious to end the evening quickly and join Carlo at the club, but then she tried to find the positive side of that dinner, thinking that she would have all the time in the world to spend with Carlo, now that they had found each other again, while the next day her ex would return to Palermo and perhaps she would never see him again. Even though the fact that she had not received a reply to her text message made her on edge. What was Carlo thinking? How many women was he flirting with at the club in her absence?
That thought made her check her watch for the umpteenth time.
Damn. It was almost midnight and they were still eating dinner.
It was fine to part on good terms, but going on all night seemed really excessive.
"Daniele, it's getting late." His face immediately changed expression, going from benevolent to concerned.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a dark blue velvet box, and opened it to show her its contents. The light of a magnificent solitaire dazzled her.
"Chiara, I love you. I swear that if you agree to marry me, I will do everything you want. Say yes, please." She was speechless at the change of plans and the most beautiful diamond she had ever seen. Too bad it was tragically too late.
"I could never ask you to give up your career, because even if you did, you would hold it against me forever."
That answer had not convinced Daniele, who was ready to refute it with very different arguments.
"At least come back to Palermo with me tomorrow. I'm sure we'll be able to come back even closer than before. Give me another chance, I beg you."
He almost got down on his knees, making her feel even more guilty and confused than she already was.
"I can't..." he stammered.
"Why?"
"Because I still don't even know if I want to go back to my old life."
"And what do you want to do? Stay here? With him? To do what?"
All those questions, all at once, echoed in his head like bullets.
"I don't know, I don't know anything. I just know that I want to feel alive and in Palermo with you I was dying."
At that point the man's expression became nothing short of hostile.
"Have you f****d him already?"
Chiara gritted her teeth.
"How dare you?"
He slammed his hand on the table.
"You can see with the naked eye that you did it. Do you realize that he is your brother's friend? Christ, imagine if your brother knew!!"
His worst nightmare was coming true.
"This is none of your business and keep your insinuations to yourself," he threatened him coldly.
"If you don't come back to Palermo tomorrow, I'll tell your brother that you've been with his best friend again. You do it."
That was the final blow and she felt dead inside.
At least she was happy about one thing. Thanks to that blackmail she could finally hate the worm in front of her.
Then he walked away trembling and wandered aimlessly for an indeterminate amount of time, his mind clouded by total anguish.
She picked up her cell phone several times to have Carlo come and pick her up, but the idea of seeing him for the last time hurt her too much.
For a moment the thought crossed her mind to leave without saying goodbye, so as not to have to face all that suffering. He would forgive her sooner or later, she was sure of it. He would always be on her side. And then who knows, maybe in a few years they would meet again as if nothing had ever happened.
No, never.
What had happened between them was so profound that they would never again be able to look into each other's eyes without remembering those sweet kisses and those overwhelming embraces.
She certainly would never forget him. He, on the other hand, had had so many women that perhaps his memory would also end up fading like that of the others.
He raised his arm to hail a taxi and as he crossed the city, he called out to Carlo, holding his breath.
The cell phone rang free several times and then went to answering machine.
Maybe he was sleeping or maybe he was busy, she wondered suspiciously.
In any case it was really strange that he didn't answer so she tried calling him again until on the second call he answered with a cheerful voice.
"Chiara, what happened to you?"
In the meantime the taxi arrived at its destination.
"I'm at your house," she answered coldly because of the background noises she heard. He was obviously in good company because the raucous laughter of a girl reached his ear.
"Wait, I didn't hear you, what did you say? Are you home?" he asked, clearly intoxicated.
"f**k you Carlo!" she cursed, hanging up the phone in his face.
She was spending the most crucial hours of her life while he was getting drunk with the little w***e on duty. She felt the ground disappear beneath her feet.
- Writer
