Divine in Lingerie (Lingerie 9)

Never.

Thirteen

Bones

I quit drinking six weeks ago.

I hated every second of it.

Losing booze was just as bad as losing Vanessa.

I poured myself into my work because I had nothing else to do with my time. I used to drink a lot, but now that it was taken away from me, I had nothing else to keep busy. The only reason I got clean in the first place was because I’d lost myself to the darkness. Being sober somewhat pulled me out, punished me for the idiotic crime I’d committed.

I had much better control now.

I was in Milan because I’d just come back from a long job. It was in Ireland, and I had a long hit list. Max was giving me lots of work because it made me feel better. The guys got to take time off work, and I got to keep busy. It worked for all of us.

But I couldn’t work all the time.

The quiet times when I was alone were the worst. I never thought I would turn into a pussy like this, the kind of man that moped around after he lost a woman. I should have been over Vanessa six weeks after we went our separate ways.

But now it’d been three months—and I still felt like shit.

I hadn’t gotten pussy because that never felt right. The few times when the opportunity arose, I changed my mind and went home alone. The only action I got was when my hand was wrapped around my length.

Now I was a pathetic man who jerked off every night.

What the fuck had happened to me?

My original goal was to wipe out the Barsetti line for good. But instead, they destroyed my life—a second time.

I couldn’t believe I’d let this happen.

I was sitting in the living room when the elevator beeped to tell me someone was approaching. It had to be Max because he was now the only other one with the code to the building. I’d been sitting on the couch, shirtless, and watching TV. A glass of water sat on the table in front of me.

Fucking piss.

I missed the dark amber liquid of booze. I missed the burn down my throat. I missed the constant buzz my brain was under. Now that I was constantly sober, my mind was clear, and I couldn’t keep Vanessa out of my thoughts.

I hated being sober.

It wasn’t me.

The only reason I kept my word was because I owed that much to my boys. They were worried about me after that stupid night, and I had to prove to them that the worst had passed. I was in control once more. But I still didn’t drink because my name hadn’t been cleared yet.

The doors opened, and Max walked inside. “I just wired the cash.”

“I saw that.”

“You did a great job. No one suspected a thing.”

“No one ever suspects a thing.”

He glanced at my water glass and then took a look around the apartment. “Are you really going to sell this place?”

As much as I loved this apartment, I couldn’t live here anymore. Vanessa’s ghost still drifted in the hallway during the night. Her presence was still in the sheets, on the couch. Sometimes I would find random souvenirs that she’d left behind, like a hair tie in the bathroom drawer or a thong that got stuck to my clothes in the dryer. I kept waiting for it to get easier, but it never did. I needed to start over.

In the back of my mind, I kept waiting for Vanessa to call me and tell me her father changed his mind. I hoped she would have convinced him somehow, had done something to prove to him that what we had was real.

But she didn’t succeed.

Now that three months had come and gone, I knew it was really over.

She wasn’t coming back.

I had to move on.

“Bones.”

I turned to him, my eyes narrowing on his face. “Hmm?”

“You still putting this place up for sale?”

“Yeah,” I finally answered. “I’ll head up to Lake Garda.”

“And where’s all this furniture gonna go?”

“I guess I’ll take it to the new place, whenever I find one.”

He moved to the seat beside me, his arms resting on his knees. He glanced at the water glass again. “I’m surprised you’ve stuck to it this long.”

“Hasn’t been easy. I think I’ve earned the right to go back.”

“I don’t know about that. You were in a pretty dark place. Having a few drinks might put you there again.”

“No. If I really didn’t have any control, I wouldn’t have been able to stay sober this long. That was a bad mistake, and I’m ready to move on from it.”

Max turned his head to look at me, and he watched me with shrewd eyes. “If you were really ready to move on, you would have opened the door to Vanessa’s art room by now. But that door has remained shut for three months.”