“Sit,” Rocco snaps at him.
“Not quite the reception I was hoping for,” Prince Fuckface says, straightening out the sleeves of his suit jacket. He continues to stand, much to Rocco’s frustration, judging by the huffing and puffing he’s carrying on with.
“What did you expect? A fucking welcome parade?” I wave my hands around. “Oh, look! The man you were going to marry is back after abandoning you and ruining your life!”
“Don’t be like that, sweet pea.”
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ sweet pea me.”
“You were seriously gonna marry this prick?” Rocco says as he moves closer to him, and strategically places his inked arms across his puffed-up chest.
The prince looks down his nose at Rocco. “Who the hell is this?”
“Someone who’ll back up Soph, so watch your fuckin’ mouth.”
I try not to smile, because I’m not happy that Fuckface is here. But bearing witness to this protective side of Rocco … I like it. No, I love it. I can’t remember the last person who came to my aid in a situation like this—not that I need it now. I can handle this slimy piece of shit myself.
“What the hell are you here for?”
“I need to do this with an audience? Really?”
“Yes, really. Spit out whatever the fuck you have to say, and make it count because I’ve got a short fuse.”
“I want you back.”
He what?
Mouth agape, I reach for the ceramic fruit bowl on the table and aim for his head.
“Suds,” Rocco growls, and dives at me just before I throw, sending the bowl and fruit to crash to the ground. Porcelain shatters in every direction and oranges roll every which way across the floor.
“Don’t,” I plead as I grapple to slice my fingernails down the prince’s face.
Rocco grunts as he wraps his arms around my middle and takes me back a step. I fight him with all my strength, tearing at his shirt, pulling his arms to let me at this fucker.
“Calm down,” Rocco orders.
I could ring his neck, I’m that mad. How could he even think I could take him back after what he did?
“Are you serious? Do you know what kind of hell you’ve put me through?” I yell as I drill him with daggers.
“I’ve come into some money. I’m going to pay it all back …”
Say what now? He’s going to make good on his debt?
I free myself from Rocco’s hold, sit down at the table and rest my head in my hands. I can’t help it. I cry. Like a big sissy girl, overwhelmed by every emotion that has haunted me since the day he left. With the hem of my long-sleeved shirt, I wipe the tears from my eyes.
“I want you back,” Fuckface repeats.
Why?
“Say what?” Rocco says, his voice deep and barely controlled. I look up at him as his hand curls around my shoulder. He squeezes me tight, to the point where it becomes painful.
Placing my hand over Rocco’s, I draw in a deep breath. “Can you give us a minute?” I ask Rocco, pleading with my eyes for him to step down. His grip relaxes but he doesn’t let go.
“Sit,” I shout at the man who shattered my dreams.
He sits opposite me and reaches for my hand, but I snatch it away and tangle it with my other hand in my lap instead. I’m not about to go get cosy with him.
“I’m fine,” I whisper to Rocco. Slowly he backs away, drilling Fuckface with a mean-arse stare as he does.
“I’ll be close. You can count on that,” Rocco hisses and points his inked finger at the intruder.
When Rocco’s bedroom door slams shut, I prepare to give my ex a serve, but for some godforsaken reason I can’t. I would’ve thought I’d be more livid with him, but I’ve run out of steam.
“You made promises … you broke my heart.”
“I’m just a man. I made mistakes. Monumental ones. I had a gambling problem. I know I ruined everything, but I’m well now.”
“I’m still paying for your mistakes. Every single week until I’m practically penniless.”
“I went to the bank today. I’ve paid off a hundred thousand and—”
“How can I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?”
He pulls a piece of paper from inside his left jacket pocket and hands it to me. It’s a receipt for one hundred thousand dollars into the bank account with the numbers that have haunted me for the longest time.
“I swear to you, once I liquidate some of the family shares I’ll be able to settle it in full.”
“What do you mean family shares?”
He pauses, sadness lining his features. “My mother is gone, Sophie.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I’m not a total bitch. Tabatha was actually very sweet to me, but of course once Fuckface went MIA she didn’t take any of my calls. She was too embarrassed that he’d disgraced the family name.
He stands and glides his hands down the front of his suit jacket. He pulls a card from his pocket and hands it to me.
Gregory Chase
Managing Director
Chase Constructions
“I want children, Sophie. Just like we’d planned. I’ve moved into the family home now that Mum is gone, too. All I need now is you.”
I can’t believe this. I want to cry, scream, rip every hair from his head, but I can’t do any of it. I have a chance for this debt to be cleared, which will change my life forever.
Whether I want to take it or not, he’s offering to give me what I always dreamed of: a family, a child of my own who won’t judge me, but will love me unconditionally. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, but is this what I want right now? And with him? Something inside my heart has changed. I have a new job, and the potential to advance my career and support myself. Am I really ready for kids after all?
“I don’t know what to say to that, Greg. I really don’t.”
“I’ll make this right, Sophie, and you will take me back.”
The confidence that once oozed from his every pore is back. The sharp smell of his cologne takes me to a time when we were happy. When I was the world to someone, and my dream was so close I could touch it. The problem is, there’s too much bad blood here. I can never recover from what he did to me, but I have to play it cool if I want to make sure he pays off the debt. Play it smart.
Fuckface leans down and kisses my cheek. “Goodbye, Sophie. See you soon.” The next thing I know, he’s out the door.
Did that really just happen? Do I need to slap myself to make sure I’m awake?
Rocco’s heavy boots thud down the hallway, growing louder with each step. He’s huffing and puffing like a maniac.
“Well this day turned to shit fast, huh?” I joke.
“What are we gonna do about this prick?” he says and throws his hands in the air. He paces towards the front door and then turns and rakes his fingers through his hair on his way back to me.
“We? This isn’t your problem,” I inform him. I get up from the table, and collect a few oranges from the floor. The timber is littered with broken porcelain. I’ll have to replace Rocco’s fruit bowl. Shit. I hope it wasn’t his mother’s.
“You know what I mean. I thought we were skinning this prick alive?” he seethes.
“This is an opportunity for me to work it out with him.”
“You’re seriously not considering going back with him?” His voice is raised now in pitch and volume. Why is he so riled up about this?
“The only thing I’m worried about here is clearing the debt. That’s all.”
His shoulders slump and he exhales loudly. “You don’t want to get back with him?”
“No,” I say, looking him in the eye. “Never.”
He nods, and the anger that was oozing out of him a second ago has all but vanished. “Right. Well I s’pose I’d better clean up the blood in the stairwell … and on the floor.”
“Ooh. Yeah, I forgot about that. That’d be great, because, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. You nailed him, by the way. There must’ve been a lot of pent-up aggression in that swing.”