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The most exhilarating moment of my life had to be the moment I jumped off the edge of a cliff and dived down into the water below. It was dangerous and reckless and I could have died. But nothing has ever quite topped that feeling.
Being in water has been a close second though. Because it’s the closest thing I’ve come to remembering how it felt to dive that day. And I just had to also remind myself that just because swimming reminds me of my mother, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It’s still the only thing that makes me feel close to her and now more than ever I need just that.
I understand that coming to that realization is the first step in the healing process. And so is finally making it back into a pool, which is why I came to the hotel rooftop. Because even before the whole thing with Sophia, this place was the only spot I felt comfortable in.
And when I dive inside the water and sink to the bottom of the pool. When that weightless hits and everything goes quiet, I can’t help but wonder why I was stupid enough to stay away for so long.
When I finally come up for some much-needed air, I’m shocked to find Sophia Mincetti. And she’s taking her boots off with a wide-eyed expressions. I inhale deeply, shut my eyes, open them and she’s still there. Sophia takes a deep breath before placing a hand on her chest.
“You idiot!” she screams. “What were you doing in there for so long?”
I swim towards the edge and pull myself out of water. Then I take a minute to consider my options. I open my mouth in search of something to say. Close it.
Stare at the blonde in front of me for a few seconds, before my mouth opens again and all I can think to say is, “I thought you said you wouldn’t care if I didn’t come up for air.”
“Things change,” she mutters. “And you were in there for about eight minutes.”
“Hmm,” is all I say before brushing past her to get a towel. “What the hell are you doing here, Sophia? I said I never wanted to see you again.”
“You don’t own this hotel,” she reminds me, her voice soft.
I roll my eyes, slightly irritated. I wasn’t kidding when I said I never wanted to see her again. The truth is, I’m not as angry as I should be when it comes to her. Because yes, she did approach me with false intentions. But she also never explicitly said she was someone she wasn’t. And honestly that’s on me, because I never pushed to find out more information about her. Hell, all she did was lie about her job, which I did too. I was such an idiot I didn’t even ask what her last name was. I don’t think I cared. All that mattered to me was that she made the pain go away and that was all I needed back then.
I’m not saying she wouldn’t have lied and made up another last name if I had asked. I’m just saying in the grand scheme of things and after I’ve had a long time to think about it, I’m not as betrayed as I felt at first. If I’m being real, I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. I’d do anything to help my family as well.
And lastly, I missed her. Which is both crazy and annoying in equal measure.
“What? Did your dad send you here again? To feel me up, find out what measures we plan to take to destroy you next?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t know you would be here,” she mutters.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Can you leave now? I was kind of in the middle of something,” I tell her.
She hesitates, “When did you start swimming again?” she asks instead of going.
I would really love it if she left. Even now, her standing in front of me is doing so many things to my head, and my heart. I can’t help but think about how good she looks. Beneath her coat, she’s wearing a black short skirt with a light green top which has a neckline that’s showing an extremely distracting amount of her tits.
I swallow softly before looking back up at her face.
“Were you going jump into the pool after me?” I counter with a question of my own.
She looks a little caught off guard but she nods. “I was just going to take off my boots before doing so. They’re Prada,” she mutters.
I can’t help a small chuckle, “Of course, your worry is nothing in the face of those Prada boots.”
“I really was you know. Worried about you. Unlike you, I really don’t want you to die.”
My lips turn down into a frown. “I don’t want you dead, Sophia.”
“No, you just tried to kill me,” she retorts her tone bitter.
“You lied to me for weeks and then I find out you’re a Mincetti. What were you expecting?”
She takes in a deep breath. “You’re right. And you had every right to be upset. Thank you, for not killing me.”
“I wouldn’t have,” I mutter.
“Excuse me?”
