Page 116 of Dare To Love Me
BECKA
The grocery store outing had been something I actually looked forward to. Steven and I had become close enough that when out shopping he was willing to engage in what I was doing. I liked grocery shopping with him the best.
Turned out Steven liked to cook and always had new recipes to give me. I’d eaten more meals with Steven in the last month than Luca. There was no point in Steven starving, or me always eating alone, so I was more than happy to make an extra portion.
Plus, I had to get out of the house. The past week had been more stressful with Luca becoming so distant. My heart ached every time he would text me not to wait up. He often appeared lost in thought the few minutes we did get to spend together and he hadn’t made love to me in days.
At first I chalked it up to him still coming to terms with what happened the night he hit me and came home beaten to hell. Every time he looked at my fading red cheek he would scowl and apologize again. He didn’t like it, but when I asked, he agreed to never bring it up again.
Luca also told me more about what happened with the fight, spearing my heart with agony for what he must’ve been going through. He’d faced some hard truths that night. I knew he would need time.
But after a few days an inkling that something else was wrong dug it’s claws in and refused to let go. I wanted to ask him about it, but we needed time together in order to do that. And I couldn’t shake the feeling he was purposefully avoiding me, and it hurt.
So, after a couple days of sulking, and feeling a bit angry myself about Luca’s attitude change, a grocery run didn’t sound too bad.
Steven and I had been discussing what I should make for dinner when my phone rang. I dug in my purse for it and answered without looking at the number.
“Hello,” I said, halfway laughing at something Steven had said. The voice on the other end started talking and my heart dropped into my stomach like a thousand pound bolder. My eyes glazed over as I stood deathly still, staring into nothing. My blood went cold, sending my body into violent shakes. I tried to breathe but my lungs froze. Sounds and colors blurred around me, plummeting me into solitary confinement within my mind. Swallowing against the cotton stuffed feeling in my mouth the only thing I could manage to whisper was a, “Thank you,” and hung up.
A strong hand gripped my shoulder. I’d been aware of Steven talking to me but all I could hear was the pounding in my ears. Without a word I’d abandoned our cart of groceries in the middle of the store and headed to the liquor. After grabbing a bottle of Jameson, I threw a fifty to the store clerk and walked out without speaking or looking at anyone.
That had been hours earlier.
“Becka, I called Luca.” Stevens voice came through the study door, where he’d been pacing ever since I’d locked myself in. Time and again he asked me to let him in, but I refused.
“NO!” I screamed, as I took another burning swig of whiskey. I didn’t want anything to do with Luca. It was all his fault. My anger roiled inside like a witch’s brew. The massive amounts of alcohol I consumed fanned the fire in my pit of sorrow and rage. My head throbbed from all the crying and I couldn’t seem to get enough air no matter how hard I tried. Everything felt out of control, which only made every emotion escalate.
Grandma.
I cried and drank until the world spun and still the pain didn’t lessen. Curled in a ball on the floor in front of the dead fireplace I begged for relief as everything turned unfocused and shifty.
The door handle rattled, making me go rigid.
“Becka. Baby it’s me, open the door. Please.” Ug. He sounded worried, but I didn’t care.
“GO AWAY!” I screeched, cursing against the stabbing pain it caused in my head. Sobs bubbled from my lips. I tried to sound angry but it came out broken.
“Becka open the door or I’ll break it in.” The handle rattled again but harder, making the door jiggle on its hinges.
I heard his threat but ignored it. I no longer had the energy to fight. All I could do was shed huge tears of anguish.
A brutal thud filled the room as cracking wood assaulted my ears. I shot upright ignoring the room as it tilted dangerously to the right, left and back again, to see Luca had indeed kicked open the door. Rage took over.
Coming to my feet, wobbling on unsteady legs I took aim and threw the bottle with all I had at Luca’s head. I missed, hitting the wall a foot from his shocked face— honestly I’m surprised I got that close. The bottle exploded into a hundred pieces, making Luca bring his arm up as glass and whiskey pelted his suit. I charged on unsteady legs, bumping into the furniture, fury driving me forward.
Luca stood stunned as I crossed the room in a stumbling, drunken mess. It wasn’t until my palm almost connected with his cheek that he snapped out of his stupor. I swung again and again as he blocked every one of my powerless swings. My screaming no longer qualified as human. “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”
Luca easily captured my wrists, hauling me in against him. Once I was in close he banned his arms around me. “Becka, STOP!” He pleaded. I thrashed in his hold. “You are going to hurt yourself. There is glass everywhere. Please just tell me what is wrong.”
“She’s dead! She’s dead! You wouldn’t take me to see her and now she’s gone!” I wanted to hate him for keeping me away. The fact it was only days away from when he promised to take me, made it all that much worse.
I should have fought harder!
But it didn’t matter now. My grandmother was gone and I was hurting more than I could stand. I should’ve been grateful that she was now in a place with no suffering or disease but the loss crushed me, body and soul. Anger was easier to grasp than thankfulness.
Luca stood the poor soul I felt the need to unleash it on. It wasn’t his fault. Even if he had taken me when I asked and she passed the next day it would have hurt just as much.
The feel of Luca’s embrace took all the wind out of my sails. After days without his touch, it sucked me in with an overwhelming comfort I couldn’t deny. His pleading to tell him what was wrong stabbed at the barely beating organ in my chest. I sagged into his arms, my knees almost giving out as I sobbed into his crisp white shirt.