I couldn’t imagine letting him go, but the more I thought about how things would be between us once we were back the more I realized I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t end things between us now, I might never be able to do it. And that wasn’t an option. The future of the Outfit rested on my shoulders, and there was no way I’d disappoint my parents like that.
I pushed to my feet and went to Santino’s room. He closed his suitcase when I entered and looked up.
“All done?” I asked. My voice sounded off, almost hesitant.
Santino nodded slowly, his brows drawing together as he regarded my face then a strange smile pulled at his lips. He nodded with a bitter laugh. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
I swallowed, not sure if he really knew what needed to happen. Could he read me this easily?
Of course. We’d spent every day and night together in the last three years. He knew every inch of my skin, had kissed and touched it all, knew every imperfection and all the places that gave me the most pleasure. But as he’d discovered my body, he’d also seen all that lay below. He knew me like no one else did, not even my family.
I searched for the right words, for something that would make this easier. “We can’t keep doing this.”
I couldn’t even put a name on what we had because we’d never defined it. We slept together. We shared a bed and jokes, we bantered and talked seriously. Maybe we were friends with benefits, but Santino and I had never been friends. Not really, and it didn’t feel like we were now. Could we become friends? Could any part of our connection survive in Chicago? Was it clever to even consider it?
“Having sex?” Santino asked in a low voice, walking closer. My body yearned for his touch as if I’d already gone without it for months. “Sharing a bed? Spending time together like a couple?”
Couple. Had he just compared us to a couple?
My heart seemed too heavy for my ribcage as if it might fall and shatter on the floor any moment.
“We always knew it couldn’t last. We knew how it would end.”
“You marrying Clifford.”
“Yes,” I said tonelessly.
He stopped in front of me, touching my cheek. I stared at his chest, afraid to meet his gaze. I knew it would consume me whole.
“Have you ever just for a second considered following your heart? Have you ever allowed yourself to consider canceling your engagement and giving us a real chance?”
I couldn’t believe what he said, couldn’t believe he broke our unspoken agreement to not consider a future together. Why did he have to make this harder than it was?
Had I considered it?
Yes, of course. Every night I fell asleep in Santino’s arms and every morning I woke beside him.
But I’d never allowed the idea to fester, and I wouldn’t allow it now.
“No,” I said firmly.
Santino nudged my face up, his brown eyes locking on mine. I steeled myself. “You’re a good liar but I know you.”
“You know me well, Santino, but you don’t know everything, especially not my heart. First and foremost, I’m loyal to my family, and they need me to marry Clifford. I won’t disappoint them.”
“Marrying a bodyguard would most certainly be a disappointment.”
I glared. “We always knew this couldn’t be! Don’t act like you were about to propose to me.”
“You’re right. I suppose it’s a good thing then that I asked your father three years ago to let me return to the job of Enforcer after Paris. That way we won’t see each other anymore. A clean cut, how you want it.”
I froze. I’d thought I’d at least still see Santino, still be able to talk to him. “You never told me.”
He shrugged. “Like you, I often forgot there was a time after Paris.”
I forced a smile. “You never liked being my bodyguard, so now you get your wish.”
Santino glanced at his watch. “We should go to sleep. Our flight leaves early.”
I pressed my lips together. “Won’t we spend our last night together?” I forced my lips into a coy smile, not wanting to be sappy.
Santino’s expression was emotionless. “I don’t think that would be wise. We should spend the night in our beds.”
“You’re right,” I said with forced resoluteness. “A clean cut is what we need.”
I turned around and returned to my bedroom, wiping my eyes brutally.
We were silent on the flight back home. Santino watched an action movie on the small seat TV and I stared out of the window. I hadn’t slept much last night and felt bone-tired but my whirling thoughts kept me awake.
I hadn’t seen Clifford since his impromptu surprise visit in Paris almost three years ago. We’d always missed each other with him studying a few semesters in Oxford and traveling to political events with his father, and me being gone in Paris. I had a feeling he’d avoided me. And I hadn’t minded. Seeing him would have only ripped open wounds, wounds that hadn’t even happened yet. Since then a lot had changed. I had changed. Santino and I had changed. We’d gotten even closer. What we had gone far beyond the physical. What we’d had…