Page 17 of All is Not Lost
“He did,” his mother says. “I was so happy to learn it didn’t last. She had no style, no manners. Awful woman. Luckily, she went home. I believe she stayed at the same place you’re in. No?”
This is what betrayal feels like–a punch to the gut I never saw coming. Once again, I realize I have been a fool. This is all I am to him—just another conquest. One that will never fit in, one he and his family will mock and laugh about once I am gone—once he is done having his fun with me. I see it now.
"Thank you," I offer as I get up, my voice laced with bitterness and hurt. "For welcoming me into your home and into your lives. But clearly, I was just another naive American tourist to add to your collection."
Giovanni's face twists with anger as he stands up from the table. "Sophia, let me explain…."
"No, there's nothing left to say," I interrupt, pushing back my chair and standing up. "I thought we had something special, but it turns out you were just using me for some cheap thrill. This is nothing but a game to you."
The room falls silent as we both stare each other down, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Marco and Rosaria exchange worried glances before excusing themselves from the table.
Giovanni steps closer to me, his voice low and seething with emotion. "You have no idea what this is really about."
"Oh, please," I scoff, trying to mask my hurt with anger. "Just save it. I'm done playing this game."
With that, I storm out of the villa, tears streaming down my face as I realize that my newfound family was all just an illusion—a cruel joke played by fate to remind me that love is just a fantasy for someone like me.
Chapter
Seven
I stand in the sun-dappled kitchen of the villa, the terracotta tiles cool beneath my bare feet. It’s the next day, but I still feel the weight of the betrayal that I have been spending all night trying to shake. I remind myself that Giovanni wasn’t the reason I came here in the first place. I got sidetracked, but I can still make it back. He holds no power over me. No one will ever get to again. Ever. I’m done being anyone’s fool.
A gentle breeze flutters through the open window, carrying with it the distant murmur of the sea. It's a scene straight out of a dream, one that has become my reality since I fled here to escape the chaos of my former life.
My phone buzzes on the marble countertop, a stark reminder that no matter how far I run, the past has a way of reaching out uninvited. My hand hesitates, then snatches up the device with a sense of foreboding that clings to me like a second skin. The screen lights up with a message, and as I read, my hands tremble, each word from Carla a weight added to the sinking feeling in my chest.
"Dear Sophia," her message begins, and even though it's just two words, they bristle with the intimacy of our shared history. "I've been sitting here for hours, trying to find the right way to say this. I don't know if there is one, but here it goes."
The words blur as I blink rapidly, fighting back the sting of tears that threaten to fall. This is Carla, my once best friend, reaching out after all this time, after everything she put me through.
What could she possibly have to say to me?
"I'm so sorry, Sophia," she continues, and I can almost hear her voice and see the solemn look that must be etched across her usually confident face. "I was wrong—so incredibly wrong—and you didn't deserve any of what happened. I betrayed not just your trust but our friendship, and if I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat."
She speaks of betrayal, but the wound feels fresh, the cut deep. I remember her tall, slender frame standing firm as my world crumbled, the one person I believed in turning away when I needed her most.
"Please, Sophia, let's try to mend this. Let's meet and talk. I miss you more than I can bear, and I understand if you hate me and never want to see me again. But I am asking, no—begging—for a chance to make things right. You were always the one who believed in second chances, and I'm hoping you still do."
As I stand there, alone in the tranquility of my refuge, Carla's plea hangs in the air, mingling with the scent of blooming jasmine from the garden. The woman I am now is cautious, guarding her heart behind walls built from disappointment and pain. Yet, as I re-read her words, a part of me aches for the connection we once shared, for the ease and laughter that came with a friendship that spanned a decade—a friendship I thought could never be broken.
"Yours always, Carla."
The message ends, and with it, the silence of the room feels heavier, charged with a decision that holds the power to heal or to reopen old wounds. With my heart caught between longing and self-preservation, I wonder if the sweetness of reconciliation could ever outweigh the bitterness of betrayal.
My phone slips from my fingers, the impact against the tiles echoing like a gunshot in the stillness of the villa. My eyes widen as I struggle to draw a steady breath, but it catches, jagged and painful, in my throat. Shock, anger, and confusion swirl within me, a tempest threatening to sweep away the fragile calm I've fought so hard to maintain.
"Carla…." Her name is a whisper, a ghost from the past that haunts the space between heartbeats. How can she just appear out of nowhere like this? The screen of my phone still glows with her words, her guilt, her plea. She wants to mend fences, build bridges, and erase the chasm of betrayal with a simple message. But some fissures run too deep, etched by deception and abandonment.
I can’t deal with this right now.
The knock at the door startles me, shattering the cocoon of my solitude. It's gentle but persistent, a rhythm that speaks of concern and unspoken questions. I know without looking who it is. Giovanni.
"Sophia?" His worried voice seeps through the wood, wrapping around me like a warm breeze. "Are you alright? Please, open the door."
I hesitate, torn. My first impulse is to curl inward, to nurse my wounds in the privacy of my own company. Instead, I yell through the closed door.
“Please, just leave, Giovanni. I have nothing more to say to you.”