For Fallon (13 page)

Fallon

A shift in our relationship follows. The days Luca leaves it’s becoming ever more problematic to reach him. He doesn’t answer his phone or it takes hours for him to return my calls, and his absentmindedness alarms me once in a while. He has woven a carefully crafted façade of quiet confidence; one that’s always preserved except for the few times I catch him unguarded. In those moments I wonder if I’m enough for him. Maybe he’s becoming bored with me? But then he manages to make tender love to me that restores my faith in our relationship.

Until I catch him in lie after lie. Until I realize that our slight altercations when we first met were signs I should’ve never ignored. Until I realize I never knew him at all.

***

Saturday morning, I’m warming up to go running. I choose seven a.m. or else it will be too hot in the blistering heat of summer. Luca’s away for business this weekend.

Instead of my standard route, I’m being spontaneous and take another one. With my earbuds in and my bottle of water in hand, I start jogging to the park. The park is fairly busy, so I run to a more secluded area and pass by several churches where I decide to take a break. Out of breath, I cool down a little and take a drink of my water as sweat trickles down my spine. Churchgoers are exiting the church across the street and the church bells are ringing loudly, announcing the end of the service. I’m jumping up and down slowly in my spot and halt promptly when I see a familiar face coming down the church steps. I remove my earbuds and quickly hide behind a tree before Luca has a chance to see me. He’s supposed to be out of town. My nails dig into my damp palms.

Luca steps aside to let the other people stream out and puts his sunglasses on. A priest walks up to him. He kisses the priest on the cheek and says something in his ear all the while gripping the priest’s head. Luca’s right hand slides into his jacket pocket.

Is he gritting his teeth?

Luca steps back and raises his brows, waiting for an answer. The priest nods and leaves hurriedly, obviously upset. Luca then scans the street and steadily heads to his car.

Like a stalker, I follow his every move until he drives away. As he turns and drives by the tree I’m hiding behind, I round it so my position isn’t discovered and watch his taillights disappear. I’m lightheaded from all the thoughts raging inside me.

What is he doing in a church with a priest? Is this the first time he lied about a business trip?

I’m still perspiring, not from my run but from the shock of catching him. It takes me well over thirty minutes before I’m standing at my front door – feeling numb. The unknown is hitting me hard.

Once inside, I become angry and call Teagan. Dazed, I seat myself at the kitchen table.
             

“Babe, I was asleep. This better be good,” Teagan answers in a sleepy voice.

I’m silent.

“Fall?
Are you there?” she asks, louder now.

“Yeah.
I’m here.” Why was she sleeping? It’s midday in London. “Isn’t it the middle of the day there?”

“Yes, but I’m lazy. Fall, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m not sure.” The first tears are falling.

“Sweetie, what happened? Are you crying? Are you okay? Are you home?”
Typical Teagan, firing questions at me all at once.

Her worry envelops me in a warm hold, making me feel loved. “Yes, I’m home. I’m fine physically. I caught Luca twenty minutes from here at a church, when he’s supposedly out of town.”

“Um… You caught him? You mean with another woman?” Teagan probes.

“No, not with a woman.
I caught him in a lie. He’s supposed to be on a business conference out of town since yesterday, but I just saw him, this morning, here in town.” I can’t even wrap my mind around it yet.

“That’s weird. He told you he would be away for the weekend? What did you see exactly?”

“Yes,” I retort, exhaling tersely. “I was so shocked at seeing him. It blindsided me. I couldn’t confront him right there. And now I’m pissed at myself because I should’ve put him on the spot then and there. I was running and saw him exiting the church. He talked to a priest. They had - what appeared to be - an intense conversation and then he left.”

“I don’t know. Maybe there is a perfectly good explanation. Is he religious? What was he doing at the church?”

“As far as I know, he isn’t religious. And why would he keep that from me? If he was, I wouldn’t mind.” I play with the edges of a paperback lying on the table.

“True.”

My anger is not dissipating but increasing. “I thought about calling him now to check and see if he would lie about his whereabouts.”

“Do that,” she agrees.

“I wanted to talk to you first before my anger took over. First, I’m going to shower, then I’m calling him.”

“Okay, let me know what he says.”

“Go back to sleep, babe. Sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t,” she warns. “You can call me any time. Look, I don’t know him, but from what you’ve told me, he really loves you.”

I make a noncommittal sound of disapproval and palm my forehead to lessen the pain of my headache. “I have no idea what’s going on. I need to talk to him. I’ll talk to you later. Night.”

“Night.”

Not a minute later, after just staring ahead, I hear my phone ring: Luca. I take a deep breath to compose myself. “Hi.”

“
Dolcezza
, what are you doing?”

He’s still in his car. I recognize the background noise. “I was just about to jump into the shower. Why?” My lip
quivers, but I sound calm.

“I have a surprise for you,” he declares.

“Okay…”

“I’m back already.”

Interesting. “In town?” I’m not divulging that I caught him yet.

“Yes, I was actually close-by you to drop something off.  I grabbed a quick bite, and now I’m on my way to you. I missed you.”

I release a sigh, both pleased and displeased. The insecurity and distrust have taken root in my mind. Why did he have a heated tête-à-tête with a priest? Luca’s dark mood is for once emulated by me. If I confront him now, I’m positive he won’t be completely honest. My gut instinct is telling me to store this for later, to not let him know I saw him at the church. Let him think I’m none the wiser. My mind is screaming at me that he’s telling a half-truth. My heart is shouting to believe him. I hate myself for my overruling thought. Everything is clouded by my thought of how much I love this guy. Feeling confused and distrustful, I realize I don’t want to see him now. “Luca, I already had plans for today. After my shower, I’m leaving.”

He’s disconcertingly silent, letting on he’s surprised by my reaction. “Will you be gone the entire day?”

“Probably.”

Luca’s considering his reply. After another silence, he asks in a severe manner, “What do you have planned?”

Not having any plans, I utter the first thing that comes to mind that could be remotely true. “Jason.”

“Jason?” he repeats and waits for me to elaborate.

“I’m going to a new book store. Jason, my colleague, offered to accompany me.” Nervousness fills my stomach because of another awkward silence that ensues. Desperate to be alone with my thoughts, I continue. “I have to shower and leave. We’ll talk tonight?”

“Fallon.”
There’s a desolate tremble in his voice.

“Let’s talk later, okay?” I persist and end our conversation. I rear back in my seat and gaze up at the ceiling. An unnerving feeling cuts through me. I bite my bottom lip in frustration before heading toward the shower.

I stand under the scorching heat of my showerhead for a long time, letting the water cascade down on me, hoping it will cleanse these overwhelming emotions of wariness. Stepping out of the shower, I’m not feeling any better and shriek when I enter my room after drying off.

Luca is sitting on my bed with his elbows resting on his knees, hands folded together, looking down. His gaze snaps up when I shriek.

I clutch my chest. “You have got to stop scaring me like that.” I blow an irritated breath through my lips.

He doesn’t talk.

I’m completely naked. Hesitantly, I go to him. We both know something is wrong. Is he lying, or am I misjudging the entire situation and ruining our love?

Luca palms the back of my thighs to pull me closer to him and leans his cheek against my abdomen
. I lace my fingers through his hair as he draws in a long, tormented breath and rubs his stubble-covered cheek against the soft flesh of my stomach. “What’s going on, Fallon?” Luca asks in that desolate tone.

“You tell me,” I counter.

Hands on my thighs stiffen momentarily, and he looks up into my eyes as his eyes narrow in suspicion.
"Cosa intendi dire?"
What do you mean?

When Luca’s pissed or passionate, he has the tendency to switch to Italian. My brows crease at his defensive tone and obvious discontented physical reaction. Normally, he’s a master at hiding those reactions.

I stay quiet, and he sighs in defeat. “I have to leave again tonight. I came to spend time with you, and you’re angry for some reason.
Perciò dimmi, cosa c'è che non va?"
So, tell me, what’s wrong?

I step away from him, and he tries to hold on, but I pry his hands off
of me. I put on my panties and bra and unleash my disgruntlement on him. “How come it’s difficult to reach you when you’re away? When we first started dating, you were always available, or at least you had the decency to text me when you’d call back.”

He’s stunned by my question. “That’s what this is about? I have businesses, Fallon. Sometimes I’m in meetings where it would be rude for me to text. But if that bothers you, I will from now on,” he says with guarded gentleness.

I’m pacing in front of him. When we first met, there were several occasions where I questioned Luca’s honesty. I found it vague that he isn’t on Facebook. I found it vague when Gina was at his place and the way he and Adriano reacted. The business trips he goes on are suspicious. That voice of doubt is yelling at me to open my eyes.

Ask your question.

I try to encourage myself and meet his eyes. “Is there something else you’re not telling me?”

He stands up in one quick move and grips my face in both hands.
“Ti amo. Esisti solo tu per me.”
I love you. You're the only one for me. “You’re my pleasure, my sanity, my calmness, my home. My positive counterpart in every negative characteristic I own.”

“Then why do I have this distressing feeling that you’re always holding back?”

He rests his forehead against mine. “It hurts me when you’re hurting.” Luca negates my comment. “How do I make that feeling disappear?”

“I don’t know,” I reveal honestly and take a step back to disentangle us. Utterly confused about this situation, I decide I need to be alone so I continue with my lie. “I have to dress and go.” I deter my gaze.

Concern takes over his expression when he sees me shutting him out. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes,” I answer evenly.

He stops me by the arm as I make my way to my closet but doesn’t say anything. The hurt in his eyes grips at my heart. Only that hurt is swiftly replaced by his mask, his controlled concealment of emotions restored. And it’s this change in him that has me petrified something bigger is going on here, so I turn around to my closet.

Luca stands there for several minutes staring at my back, and then he leaves after quietly closing the door.

***

I stay home alone the entire day, coming to the conclusion that I have nothing substantial to base my suspicion on. Luca doesn’t call or text. Maybe, just maybe, he’s telling the truth? My first mistake
is that I chose to believe him. Time and time again, I chose to believe him. I appeal to my common sense and call him that night. He answers on the first ring, and I ask him to come home. Within an hour, Luca’s at my apartment. He uses the key I gave him days ago for the first time to enter ‘our’ apartment. Most of our time is spent in my apartment; it feels like ours now.

I’m half asleep in bed, lying on my stomach when Luca returns home and flips me over caringly.

His shirt is already off. He unfastens his pants and slides into bed next to me in his boxer briefs, facing me. I tentatively touch his troubled face, his skin is ice cold while it’s been a warm day. The temperature must’ve plummeted. I hold open my embrace as a peace offering, and he buries his face in my neck and, as always, inhales my scent to calm him down while entangling our legs.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“You don’t have to be,” he replies agonizingly soft. “I love you so much.” His arms around me tighten to press our bodies closer together as if we’re one, and we drift off to sleep in this embrace.

I wake a few hours later needing to use the bathroom and untangle myself from his grip. As I return to the bed, I pick up Luca’s discarded clothes from the floor to throw them in the laundry basket behind the door. The collar of his white shirt is covered in red-brownish blotches. My eyes widen as understanding dawns on me that his shirt is stained with blood. Not a good sign.