Completed on 24/09/2018
Tell me who hurt you?" It was a command. I could have been afraid and probably told the whole of my traumatic childhood but I shook my head. There was no way I was telling him my darkest secrets.
"I will find out..I always...
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The best way to heal a broken heart, it turns out, is to find a way to move past the hurt. ~Mary Kay Andrews~
*Unedited*
Raphael
Sophie got up and continued to pack, putting almost all her stuff haphazardly on the traveling bag. I stood at the door watching. Her hands trembled, her eyes misty even as she tried to hide her face using her hair; I could still see the tears anyway.
"Why did you let me make love to you?" I asked suddenly. It had been bothering me why she would let it happen, considering how mad and hurt she was.
"I didn't let you." She said softly.
I felt my body react violently to that, shooting my eyes at her.
"That is not what I mean. Of course, you would never force me." She said as she lifted the bag from the bed and headed towards the door, which was where I was standing.
"Then why did you."
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it does matter. You were still obviously mad at me; I just want to know why you ambushed me."
"Ambushed you? Oh please! You wanted me as much as I wanted you."
"Yes, I wanted you. I've always wanted you. I've told you that often. I will always want you! The question is, why did you let me, feeling as you did?"
"As I said, it doesn't matter since it'll never happen again."
I was tempted to prove her wrong, to master her and demonstrate that she was mine and it would indeed happen again, but I did not, I was the one in the wrong, and I knew it.
"Okay, keep your secrets," I said, opening the door to let her out.
The first time Sophie was mad at me was when she found out I was in the mafia. She was mad then, heartbroken even, but that was nothing compared to her now. As I watched her seated beside me in the jet, her hair covering half her face, she looked fragile, torn, hurting, and spitting mad.
It was in the way she shot angry looks at me, the way she spoke in a monosyllable, grunts and nods, but not with words.
But while she remained mad at me, she treated everyone around us with civility and grace.
