Arriving To Italy
1789 Words
BEATRICE
I can't believe I said that. What happened between us was wonderful, but it couldn't happen again. And no one could know about it, even if I had to break her heart.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence, until the JFK Airport was in sight. My driver went through a private entrance, where our plane was waiting for us.
Getting out of the car, I walked ahead, not waiting for Cynthia as I went up the stairs to get inside the metal bird.
The luxurious interior of the plane fit me, but something was telling me this was Dad's doing. This was his own private plane for sure.
I greeted the stewardess and the pilot with a shake to their hands before walking further in. They were good friends of my family.
While I sat down on the leather chair, Maggie, the stewardess served me some red wine as I saw Cynthia get in and sit down on the other side of the plane.
“Thank you, lovely. Now, get dinner ready, I will be hitting the hay afterwards,” I ordered Maggie while looking at Cynthia, who didn't spare a glance towards me.
Putting the glass on the drink compartment, I closed the curtains, hinting at anyone not to bother me before I approached her. Cynthia had a few tears coming out of her eyes as I kneeled in front of her, concerned.
“What are you looking at?” She asked, rudely. I chuckled, grabbing her chin so she looked at me. Her eyes would always get me, and that's what scared me.
I didn't want to fall in love.
I didn't want to be one of those women who commit and then life throws a curve ball, ruining it all for them.
“Why are you crying?” I asked, knowing the reason, but wanting her to tell me. She scoffed, her tongue was against her inner cheek, keeping herself from saying anything she might regret.
“It's not important. I just want to accompany you to this trip and then come back home. That's all,” she replied, lifting her chin up as she looked back out the window.
I stood up, leaning over with my hands on each armrest, locking her in.
“If this is about what happened…”
She interrupted me after looking at me.
“And what happened, Bea? Or should I say Miss Santiago? To be honest, I don't know what to call you anymore.” She took a deep breath. “One minute you're nice, the next you're ignoring me. You give me the best orgasm any woman could have, only to treat me like s**t afterwards?”
I was speechless. She was hurt and it was all because of me. If we were going to enjoy this trip, I couldn't act like a b***h and treat her nicely.
“You have to understand…”
“Understand what?” She raised her voice at me, making me slap her before I covered my mouth in regret while she laughed bitterly.
“Don't worry. I got my answer,” she whispered, getting off the chair before heading to the bedroom and locking herself in.
The flight felt longer than it should. I was falling asleep on the chair while Cynthia stayed in the room, comfortable in my bed.
Not wanting to prolong this much more, I asked the stewardess to hand me the key to the room. She gladly did so, and I ordered her not to interrupt me unless it's to tell me we had arrived.
Unlocking the door, I opened it only to see Cynthia sitting at the edge of the bed, her hands on her lap while she looked down at them with sadness in her eyes.
I locked the door behind me, dropping the key on the wooden table next to it before I approached her.
There was a tear trailing down her cheek and with my knuckle, I wiped it away as she leaned against my touch, making me feel the warm skin of her face.
Cynthia looked at me, smiling sadly before taking my hand and pulling me down next to her.
“Bea, please look at me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel anything for me. Anything at all, because the way you made me feel in your office says otherwise,” she whispered, stroking my cheek.
I tried to remain neutral, not showing any expression at all.
“Cynthia, I don't want to fall in love. I refuse to do so, it will only end up in heartbreak and I don't have time for that.”
“I could change your mind,” she said and as I was about to protest, I felt her lips on mine.
Sweet, luscious and… mine.
I eagerly responded, forgetting for just a moment about what I kept repeating to myself as I gave into her delicious vanilla scent.
We pulled away, our eyes still closed as I gulped, feeling her soft skin under my hand while it rested on the bare part of her thigh.
“I have to sleep, so if you want to rest as well, we can share,” I whispered, still trying to catch my breath from that heated kiss.
“I'm hungry. Maybe I should just go and grab something to eat. If I get sleepy, I could use one of the couches,” she replied. I knew she wanted to avoid me, and I couldn't say I blamed her.
As she headed towards the door, I stopped her with my next words…
“My parents don't know I'm a…”
“A lesbian?” She smirked. I nodded while she rested against the now open door.
“I know what you're trying to say. Don't worry. Nothing happened, right?” Her question showed how much her heart ached, how unfair I was being to her.
She walked out the door, closing it behind her. It infuriated me to no end how much she affected me.
I laid on my bed, resting my head on the pillow and thinking, what will my parents say when they find out? And I know they will eventually do, nothing really goes by them.
Especially Dad.
As the minutes went by, my eyes got heavier and soon, I was in a deep slumber.
~*~*~*~*
“Hello, Miss Santiago,” Maggie woke me up, “We're here.”
I sat up, stretching my body while letting out an unladylike yawn before I headed to the bathroom to do my business.
“There's a car waiting for you outside and Miss Martinez already stepped out of the plane and got in it.”
“What? She couldn't wait for me?”
Maggie nodded, leaving after I dismissed her. Cynthia was pissing me on purpose. Just because I can't love her the way she wants me to.
We've been friends for years, it doesn't mean I'll marry her.
Taking a quick shower and putting on some casual clothes, I said my goodbyes to Maggie and Sam before I made my way to the black Audi waiting for me by the plane.
Cynthia was already sitting on one side, her tanned legs showing under the dress she had changed into. As I got in, I couldn't take my eyes off her exposed skin.
“If you don't want anyone finding out about your situation, I suggest you stop staring at me like you want to f**k me right here,” she said with an eyebrow raised as I sat down.
I ignored her sarcasm, closing the door and ordering the driver to take us home.
“What was that letter in your hand back in New York?” Cynthia asked after an hour of silence.
“It was nothing important. Just some troll trying to bug me, but I took care of the situation,” I lied.
I knew I couldn't, she knew me too well, but for some reason, she decided to ignore it, shrugging her shoulder while taking a glass of water from the cooler by the front seat.
“I was just curious, since you never keep secrets from me.”
I laughed.
“You're one to talk, Martinez. You haven't told me the reason for requesting that we came to Italy a week ahead of time,” I replied, raising my eyebrows as I expected an answer from her. She stayed silent.
“That’s what I thought.”
I figured she wouldn't say anything, but I would make her eventually.
We arrived at the mansion, my heart suddenly racing at the thought of seeing them again after seven years apart.
Especially my little brother, who when I left was only eight years old, and now he must be a teenage boy.
Our driver opened the door for us, gesturing for Cynthia to step out of the vehicle before I followed right after, walking side by side towards the entrance.
The guards greeted us with a nod, opening the door for us and as soon as I walked in, my world stopped.
I was back home.
“Oh, my God! Beatrice, you're finally here!” Aubrey was the first one to greet me as she ran down the stairs to envelop me in a hug.
“Hello… Mom. I've missed you,” I whispered, hugging her back tightly before she pulled away and looked at Cynthia who was standing behind me.
“And you are?” She greeted with a smile, “Beatrice, is this your date for the baptism?”
Her question caught me by surprise, making me gulp loudly while she laughed.
“Oh, dear. I knew from the moment you used to try your father's suit jackets. There was something about it. But don't worry, he doesn't know yet. If I was you, I wouldn't hide it from him much longer, though.”
She took Cynthia in an embrace, kissing both her cheeks before introducing herself.
“Hi, I'm Aubrey Santiago.”
Cynthia smiled as she looked at me, uncertainty clear in her eyes.
“Cynthia Martinez.”
“Oh,” Aubrey said, her face full of concern. Did she know something I didn't?
“Well, welcome to the Santiago family. I'm sure you'll like it here. We have two rooms ready for you both, if you want to refresh and meet us for dinner.”
“Thank you, but we want to rest first. I'll see Dad and Francis later, though.”
She nodded, wishing us a good rest. Cynthia was definitely hiding something, and I was sure Aubrey suspected it or knew it as well.
- Writer
