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But she was determined this meeting would only last ten minutes. She refused to be drawn into anything longer.
It helped that the wine bar was busy. Christmas was only days away and everyone was in the festive spirit, full of wine and cheer and merriment. Carols were being played over the speakers but they were almost drowned out by the din of conversation. Her eyes scanned the room, missing Marco at first. But no, there he was. At a table, staring straight ahead. It took him a moment, then his eyes flicked towards the door and it was almost as if he’d sensed her arrival. He stood, and the world stopped moving.
The room emptied. At least, as far as Portia was concerned. The air between them formed a vacuum, and her feet carried her forward of their own volition. She drew closer and closer to him and with the maximum of effort, finally stopped.
“Marco,” she said, by way of greeting.
He simply stared.
She looked around, self-conscious, feelings in overdrive, then turned back to face him. It seemed to jolt him out of his silent reflection.
“It’s busy,” he grimaced apologetically. “Is this okay?”
“For ten minutes? It’s fine.”
He nodded quickly, as if agreeing to the terms they’d already discussed.
“I ordered this for you.” He slid a glass of wine towards her. She ignored it.
“What did you want to see me about?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw, fascinating and distracting.
“It’s been a long time.”
She nodded slowly.
“I’ve missed you.”
Bang.
Like an arrow in the chest.
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say.
She turned away, staring out at the crowd, fighting tears.
“I’ve missed you in a way I can’t explain. I’ve never known anything like it. Portia, I screwed up. Royally. And I’m sorry.”
She could hardly breathe. She continued to stare out at the crowd, because she couldn’t look at Marco. She tried to draw strength from the people surrounding them, but she was shaking inside.
“I know it’s over between us. That you’ve probably moved on,” he said gruffly, so she frowned. “But I just wanted you to know…I fell in love with you, too. Completely. You are everything to me. Everything.”
She sucked in air, but it wouldn’t reach her lungs. She was dying, drowning, flying, free.
She turned to face him, slowly.
“What?”
She needed to hear it again. To see him say it.
Beneath the table, her fingers pinched the flesh of her thighs through her pants.
“I love you.” He reached across, as if reaching for her hand, but then stopped himself, going for his wine instead, holding it without lifting. “You are different to anyone I have ever known, and my feelings for you are unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I didn’t understand. I was so focused on not hurting you, on not being someone else you’d have to get over, that I didn’t stop and think about why your happiness mattered so damned much to me.”
She closed her eyes on the rush of emotions threatening to devour her.
“I’m not saying this because I expect you to take me back, or to still feel the same way about me, or because I think anything will come out of this—I don’t. But as soon as I understood how I feel, I couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t know too. I couldn’t bear the thought you might believe you’d loved me, and I hadn’t felt that for you. We were so good together, Portia.”
