The Breakup (21 page)

“Yes,” she sighed. “I guess. He asked me to marry him and I said no.”

Pietro grinned.
 

“I didn’t say no because of you. I said no because I won’t marry anyone.”

He looked up at the sky with a long-suffering face. “Why women not do what they should I never know.” He grinned at her to show it was a joke, but she smacked him on the arm and shoved by. At that moment the only company she wanted was female.

Julianna was in the kitchen making something delicious; Aja’s stomach rumbled in response to the wonderful aroma.

“Where Marco, Aja? He come for dinner?”

“You mean breakfast? No, he’s not coming in.”

At the look on her face, Aja wearily elaborated. “He asked me to marry him and I said no. He took off and I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”

Julianna put the spatula down on the counter and sighed. “Poor Marco. Two time too many for one man.”

Aja gasped, only now realizing that she’d done exactly what Julianna had done to him. Poor man indeed.
How could I have hurt him like that?

“I turned him down just like you did. Oh, Juli, I’m so awful! I should have thought of a nicer way to say it.”

“How say no nicer than no? It no.”

“You’re right.” Aja dropped into a chair and put her head on the table.
How much more can I screw up my life?

Pietro came into the kitchen. He fired off what Aja assumed was an order for breakfast because Julianna immediately started dishing up a plate of food. He winked at Aja, and then went back into the dining room.

For the first time in a long time, Aja wished her mother were there to give advice. One thing her mother was good at was not letting her emotions cloud her thinking. Aja wondered what her mother would think of Marco. She would probably think he was perfect. Aja groaned again and sank lower in her chair.

Moments later she shot out of her chair. “Juli!”

Julianna whirled around with a gasp, nearly dropping the spoon she’d been using to stir the soup for that evening’s supper. “What? What wrong?”

“I need Marco’s phone number.”

Julianna smiled a slow smile. “Oh.” She set the spoon down and wiped her hands on the towel she’d slung over her shoulder. She found a pad of paper and a pen in the drawer and wrote down his number. She handed it to Aja. “Here. Hurry. Call.”

Aja saw worry in Julianna’s face. Worry for Marco. The reality of how she’d hurt him came crashing down on her again and tears sprang to her eyes.
How could I have done that to him?
Marco was a good man. Maybe he was a bit arrogant at times, but he’d been nothing but kind to her. He was also a good father, something every woman wanted in a man.
 

Aja grabbed the phone and dialed. She noticed Julianna leaving the kitchen to give her privacy. Aja was so glad Julianna helped her realize the truth about Marco. Her whole body trembled at the thought of losing him. She still didn’t know how she’d fallen so fast, but she no longer cared.

“Hello?”

The words froze in Aja’s throat and she had to force them past her fear.
What if he hangs up?

“Marco? It’s Aja,” she paused, hoping he would say something. He didn’t.

“I, uh,” she stopped, swallowed and tried again. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he finally spoke. “Yes?”

“Yes. I will marry you. I do love you and I’m sorry. I was scared, but you’ve never done anything to make me afraid. I don’t want to lose you,” she said in a rush. He still hadn’t said much and she was afraid it was already too late.

There was a long sigh that travelled the wire and continued through Aja’s blood. Just the sound of his voice was enough to stir unimaginable emotions through her.
Why didn’t I see it before?

“I love you,” Marco said.

Aja could hear the smile in his voice and everything inside her went still. It was going to be okay. He still loved her. He had forgiven her. Her heart seemed to leap back into its normal rhythm, and she took a deep breath. She slumped onto the stool beside the phone, not even trying to hold back the tears that flooded her eyes.

“Marco, I’m such a shit.”

He laughed. “No, you’re not. You’ve been through hell. I do understand, Aja. I couldn’t help being hurt though. It’s hard being rejected twice and outside the same door both times.”

Aja gasped. “Marco…”

“No, don’t say it. I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine.”

Aja smiled through her tears at the joy in his voice. She’d never experienced a man being that in love with her before. It was exhilarating.

“Can I come see you? It’s not that late, I want to take you to meet some friends.”

Aja said yes while picturing the state of her face. The tears had probably left streaks of mascara down her face, but she didn’t care. She would clean up as fast as possible. She
had
to see him.

“I’ll be there soon,” he said. “I love you, Aja. You won’t be sorry.”

“No, I’ll never be sorry,” she said and hung up the phone. She took a few seconds to let it sink in, then raced for the stairs, calling for Julianna.

Chapter 25

Aja followed Marco through unfamiliar back streets and tried to keep herself from asking him any questions. She had an insatiable curiosity, and found it hard to wait for surprises. She usually talked her father into letting her open at least one Christmas present before the big day. Last Christmas he finally told her he thought she was getting a little too old for such impatience, but gave in when she wouldn’t stop pleading. With Marco, however, she wanted to appear mature, so she kept her mouth shut despite the urge to start begging for answers.

They arrived in front of a heavy old door with elaborate carvings. Her Italian wasn’t good enough to make out the sign above it, but she didn’t miss the heavenly smell of food leaking around the edges of the ancient portal. She turned to Marco, her eyes sparkling, but he put a finger over her lips and said, “Shhhh.”

Marco stretched out his fist and glanced around before pounding on the door three times, pausing briefly, and then knocking twice more. Aja nearly started giggling over the theatrics. Her curiosity bubbled in her throat and she feared she wouldn’t be able to hold it back.

They waited in silence for a few seconds. Something rustled behind the door. A small window Aja hadn’t noticed slid back and a pair of dark, mysterious eyes appeared. They were framed by bushy brows and rosy cheeks; a startling contrast.

“Who’re you?” The eyes asked in a British accent.

Aja looked at Marco. He stared intently back at the pair of eyes. He didn’t look at Aja. Then she saw him bite his cheek and realized he was as amused as she.

“Marco. Marco Polo, now let me in.”

“What’s the passphrase?” Aja realized the accent was a weird mix of British English and East Indian English.

Marco lowered his voice and leaned toward the window. “For God’s sake, do we have to do this every time? You know who I am.”

“I don’t know her.” The eyes swung to Aja and she shivered. “The phrase.” The dark glare lingered on Aja before swinging back to Marco.

Marco lowered his head and muttered, “Italians rule, Americans drool.”

Aja let out a bellow of a laugh and then clamped her hand over her mouth, but squeaks kept escaping. Marco looked up at the dark sky and let out a long-suffering sigh.

The door swung open and they were confronted with the rest of the guardian. Aja used all her willpower not to laugh again. The only intimidating part of the man standing in front of her was his eyes. He was Aja’s height. She glanced at the door. The window had been well above her head. Then she saw the stool and nearly choked.

“Come in out of the rain, my friends,” the little man said with an expansive gesture of his arms.

Marco rolled his eyes at Aja, but neither of them mentioned that it wasn’t raining. “He says it every time,” Marco whispered to Aja behind the troll’s back.

Marco shut the door behind them. “Carlos, I’d like you to meet Aja.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Carlos.” Aja said and stuck out her hand.

Carlos whirled on Marco. “In here we use English names, remember? I’m Carl, you’re Mark.” He shook his finger at Marco, looking like a child reprimanding his father. “We speak English here at all times.” His eyes swung to Aja and she was startled again by their dark intensity. “She an American?”

Aja dropped her arm, feeling like an idiot.

Marco let out a snort. “I wouldn’t dare. She’s from Canada.”

Carl’s shoulders dropped and only then did Aja realize how tense he was. He took her hand and shook it, his grip soft and child-like.

As she shook his hand, she looked him over. He had wiry black hair that stuck up like a bottle brush. His face was round and apple-cheeked, but his eyes belied the cherub image. They were far apart and deeply set. So dark, like he was wearing eyeliner. He peered into Aja’s eyes with such daring intensity she had to break his gaze and look away.

She pulled her hand out of his damp grasp and pressed it against her jeans. He smiled then, his cheeks plumping up even more. To Aja he looked like one of those children cast into a horror film where the child pretends to be sweet, but all the while he goes around hacking people to pieces. She shivered and moved closer to Marco.
Oops, Mark.

Carl pivoted on one leg and moved down the dark corridor, his arms pumping in time with his steps. He looked like a firecracker about to explode. “Follow me,” he commanded over his shoulder.

Marco took Aja’s arm and they fell into step behind the disappearing form.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

Marco smiled and motioned for her to be quiet again. Aja felt very much like a firecracker too, but she willed herself to be patient.

Ahead, Carl threw open a door at the end of the passage. “Welcome friends!” he said and then disappeared into the room.

When they arrived at the door, Aja blinked at the bright light, which was such a contrast to the dimness of the corridor. The room was full of people, their laughter and conversation swelled, and Aja was surprised she couldn’t hear it from the passage.

Marco seemed to read her mind. “The walls and doors are so thick they’re almost sound-proof.”

Aja looked around for Carl, but he seemed to have vanished. A tall, thin man got up from one of the couches that were scattered around the cavernous room. “Hey, Marco! I mean Mark. Who’s that with you?” His voice travelled throughout the room and all eyes swiveled to the pair standing in the doorway.

Marco pulled Aja forward. “This is Aja. She’s visiting from Canada.”

There was a murmur across the room and Aja heard Canada spoken in several different accents. There seemed to be widespread approval of her nationality. She remembered the passphrase Marco had to say to get them in and she almost laughed again.
Is this an “I hate Americans” club
?

Marco propelled them forward to meet the man who had spoken. He looked to be around Marco’s age, and she noticed a wedding ring on his finger. He grabbed her hand and pumped it with enthusiasm, a wide smile splitting his face.

“Welcome. It’s been a long time since Mark has brought a date.” His grin turned impish as he looked her over.

She could feel all the curious glances being thrown her way, but she felt quite comfortable at Marco’s side. She suddenly felt pride that she was the first woman he’d brought to this obviously special place in a long time.

She smiled up at Marco. “Are you going to tell me where we are?”

“This is a club my university friends and I started. We were protesting all the exclusive groups and their weird rituals. We started our rituals to poke fun at them, but Carl takes them pretty seriously.” He shrugged. “Sorry about all the theatrics. It’s really just a place to socialize and unwind.”

Aja smiled. “That’s okay. It was fun.”

“Pretty much everyone speaks English, so you won’t have any trouble,” he said.

Several people made room for them on a couch nearby, and Marco and Aja sat down. He introduced her to the three men and two women seated on the couches arranged to face each other. There were similar comfortable arrangements all over the room. Despite the immense size of the room, it was quite cozy. They’d had a good interior designer.

Aja smiled and leaned back into Marco’s arm, which he’d placed around her the minute they sat down. Aja tucked her lips in at the corners. It seemed to her he was showing that she belonged to him. She didn’t mind, though.

“So you come from Canada?” The woman squeezed herself in beside Aja. She had been sitting with another group. She had long silky blonde hair, but her face was somewhat masculine. Aja had to keep her face bland when Marco whispered that she was actually a he.

“Yes, that’s right. Have you ever been there?” Aja asked.