“Yeah. He only does that shit when he’s stressed. Everything’s riding on me and Stella’s reconciliation.”
“That’s why I want to help.” I tilt my head in curiosity. “Here.” He hands me a gold ring with a thin cut diamond in the center and smaller cut diamonds surrounding it, reminding me of a bursting star. I recognize it immediately as ma’s engagement ring.
“Tito—“
“I insist you take it. Ma would have loved to know that it will be on the finger of someone you love.”
“I—“ I don’t love her. Don’t even want to be with her. It’s all fake. But how the hell do I tell Tito that?
“It can be a promise ring, along with an intentional apology.” He raises his brows implicitly and brings it closer to my chest for me to take. I can’t say no. He’ll get it back soon enough. And anyway, the grandness of such a gesture can’t be declined. I sigh and take it with lingering reluctance.
“Thank you, Tito.” I press my lips into a smile, and he does the same, patting my arm a couple of times before walking back to his work desk. I know I’m gritting my teeth as I exit Pops’, and head back to the car with Barker by my side.
“Sir?” He asks as we get into the car, and I choose the back seat this time.
“Take me to Stella’s house.” He starts the engine in response, and we’re on our way. The drive is quick. Too quick. I’m sweating in the back seat like a tea kettle on a burner.
When we park out front, the lights turn on in the garden leading up to the front doors. I don’t remember motion-sensored lights, so I think someone has turned it on as if they were expecting me. I jump out of the car and cross over the stone driveway, up through the garden, and to the glass front doors. The house looks empty, but a lamp is on at the table by the stairs.
I reach up to the bell and press it, listening to the chime accompanied by the distant clapping of feet over marble. When Stella’s mother comes down the stairs, I straighten up. She sees it’s me and opens the door right away.
“Antonio! We weren’t expecting you tonight!” She sounds pleasantly surprised, which means Stella hasn’t said anything to her. She’s covered in paint from head to toe; even her yellow hair is pulled into a paint-stained band on top of her head.
“Is Stella here?” I smile politely.
“Yes! She should be in her room. Go right on up.” She points to the elevator until I begin to move in its direction. “Fourth floor!” She calls as I step inside. I hit the button and tap my foot until it reaches her floor. When I step out, I know her room is directly across from the elevator because I can hear her through the crack in her double doors.
She’s singing along— very poorly— to “All The Things She Said” by t.A.T.u., blasting it at an earsplitting volume. Unfortunately, a song she was obsessed with while staying with me. And while I was avoiding her, she blared it a little louder. I used to think it was to piss me off. For one, it’s annoying, and then there’s the fact that the song is by Russians (a sore spot).
I knock on the door loudly, so she can hear me over the racket, and after a second, the door swings open. She steps back when she sees me; pain flashes across her eyes that feels like reopening a wound still healing.
“Hi.” I manage, and she goes to close the door on me, but I stop it with my hand and foot.
“What do you want?” She folds her arms over her chest, which I now notice as being particularly more exposed in the pajamas she bought with me. Kinda makes me feel good that she chose to wear them even though she’s pissed at me. Her hair is down, and her skin is supple and flawless. I study her for a second, and she impatiently raises her brows.
“Can I come in?”
“You can talk from where you’re at.” Her jaw tenses. She’s not budging, so I take a breath to speak.
“Stella, I’m sorry.” I toggle between her eyes, hesitantly focused on me. She quietly scoffs.
“That’s it?”
“Yes— well, no… I’m sorry that I fucked up. To be honest, I don’t know why I got so drunk or fought Jens.” I say his name like it disgusts me because it does. “I’m sorry that I called you selfish and made you cry, but most of all, I’m sorry that I fucked up my end of the deal. If you agree to this again, we can get what we really want. I promise.” I think it’s a good time to pull out the ring, so I do, and she covers her mouth, staring at it for a second before looking back at me with tears welling in her eyes.
“It was my mothers. I figure you should wear it.” I shrug. “Really get the families going.” I swallow the confusing lump in my throat as she takes it and slides it onto her ring finger.
“Is that a yes?” I’m tilting my head, wanting to meet her eyes, and she finally looks up, straightening her back with a more neutral expression.
“Okay.” She grabs the door to close it, but I stop her again.
“Can I come in now?” I force a smile, but I’m still tense because we have to talk about this whole Russian thing. She thinks for a moment and then steps aside for me to enter. I take a seat on her bed, and I don’t regret it because this shit’s comfier than mine. She sits down next to me, and the warmth of her body awakens my senses to something within that’s almost animalistic. I want to tear that jumpsuit right off her and fuck her until we both feel better about the shit we put each other through.
“The Russians… they would like to meet with me.” She cocks her head.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” I try not to laugh at her question because, of course, it is, but she’s the only one who has cared to ask.
“Yeah.” I nod. “But, it’s necessary for the transition into the New Era to go smoothly. They want me to meet them in Maui.”