Acquaintances (A Mafia Romance)

Nine.

Rebecca Caruso

"Hey," Christopher doubtfully remarked while reflecting on my despair.

"Hey, you waited up?" I questioned.

"Yeah, I felt guilty leaving you." His eyes depicted nothing but uncorrupt concern as he gently took hold of my hands.

"Sorry if I made you feel that way," I said, my mind momentarily drifting to our youth, the impression of always being protected by his devotion. As much as I was angry and frustrated, Christopher perpetually managed to express his loyalty and patience—a major factor I tend to overlook at times. A major factor I tend to overlook at times...

"How was Buddy Guy?"

"It was just...," I gave a quick cough to clear my throat. Did I feel like confessing to him a night fueled by comfort and ease with another stranger? It wasn't devious or calculated, just a genuine connection that had brought me comfort; yet, as I reflected, the ease of the evening had taken a sudden turn.

"I need you to listen very carefully, Rebecca. Tonight you and I never met. You were never out here, and all this with Frank never happened, understand?"

It took me a few moments to compile a plausible and convincing motive for my demeanor. I don't enjoy lying in the least bit; however, I did my best to twist the truth...

"It was oddly relaxing and fun at the same time" I added.

"I can see that," Christopher conveyed.

"Look, about earlier, at dinner," I awkwardly said out of turn. The forced proximity made me a bit more remorseful about the evening and my interaction with Marco. "I'm sorry for ruining the moment, I honestly don't mean to be so difficult."

He gave a quick chuckle.

"What's so funny?" I wondered aloud while pushing myself away.

"Beck, we've known each other for decades, plural. You have nothing to be sorry about. Besides, I know that MARRIAGE is a huge step. Fuck, I'm scared too. I mean, I know I love you, but umm..."

We both leaned closer to each other as he spoke, our warmth overwhelming the air around us with feelings of admiration.

"I'm the asshole for pushing it on you, ya know. If anyone's being difficult..." He continued, "It's me. I should have fucking opened my ears and listened to you more; maybe, if I had done so earlier, you wouldn't have gotten suspended."

I was unable to cultivate a response; after two weeks, Christopher Chico, in his way, apologized for getting me suspended from the police force. Psychically, everything around me began to fade away, while my brain merely searched for words to process the emotional effect of his statement.

"You mean the world to me," he continued, positioning my hands on his chest, "You're my everything, my universe. I just want to do right by us. " 

He quickly released his embrace as I spoke. "I love you too, Chris—I just..."

I just don't feel like our relationship is what it once was, I feel like a roommate instead of a soulmate. My demands for affection aren't being met, but at the same time, I understand you, I'm comfortable with you, we've known each other through thick and thin, and most importantly, I trust you (to a certain extent).

You, Christopher Chico, are everything a modern girl desires in a man.

"I just, well...I feel guilty." Letting my ego and selfishness take over is making this decision about our future uncertain. Should a person defy their desires for the sake of comfort?