“I’ll break up with him,” she says after a beat.
“Not on my account,” I say quickly. “Your relationship has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you!” she cries out throwing her arms in the air. “You’re as entwined in this as I am.”
She’s not even making sense.
I have to remind myself that she’s been through a hell of a lot tonight and is more emotionally fragile than normal. She’s worried, she’s scared, she’s been drinking, and she’s trying to forget it all by getting herself tangled with me. That’s all this is.
“We should go back to the party,” I tell her, reaching out for her arm.
She keeps it at her side, looking at me like I’m crazy.
“Please,” I tell her. “We have to go back. Marco is waiting for you.”
“You know he doesn’t give a shit about me.”
“He does care. That’s what makes this so hard.”
Because even though Marco’s been a bit of fucker with her, I know he still does care.
“Ruby,” I tell her sternly. “I know you’re confused right now, and to be honest, I am too. But we have to go back. If you don’t want to tell him, then I support that. If you do want to tell him, I guess I support that too. But we can’t solve all our problems out here. Okay?”
She stares at the ground for a moment, anguish on her brow. Then she relents.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
We walk out of the park together, down the street, back to the palace. Both of us side by side, walking in silence.
I get as far as the entrance, noticing some cameramen still outside, though they don’t see us.
“Listen, you go inside and finish the night with Marco. I’m going to go home.”
Fear widens her eyes. “You’re leaving me?”
“I have to. It’s for the best.”
She studies me for a moment in disbelief. “I still need you. I need to talk to you.”
“Talk to Marco first. That’s what he’s there for.”
“Luciano,” she calls out, but I’m already walking away, heading across the street, away from the gala, away from my brother.
Away from her.
Ten
Ruby
“I think it’s time we break up.”
I stop dead in my tracks and stare at Marco, dumbfounded.
We had just gone for a nice lunch near the hostel, which I thought was a bit strange since he usually complains about the area, and we were walking back hand in hand, talking about Adam Sandler of all things (I love him, he hates him), when…
“What?” I ask, feeling my pulse start to race. I attempt a joke. “You hate Adam Sandler that much?”
His smile is forced, and how did I not notice his eyes this whole time, how cold and distant they are? “Ruby…”
“Are you serious?”
He nods. “I think it’s time. We both knew this was coming.”
“But I’m not leaving for another two weeks.”
“I know,” he says. “Why put off the inevitable?”
I fold my arms across my chest, feeling a cold ache inside, even though the sun is strong and a billion degrees. He’s breaking up with me. Just like that. Takes me out for lunch and the whole time he knew, he planned it. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. He knew this morning, maybe he even knew last week that he was going to end it.
You were going to break up with him, I remind myself.
That’s all true.
After the sports awards gala, and, more importantly, after Luciano kissed me, I’d been agonizing on whether to break up with Marco. I knew that what I felt for Luciano was real but futile. I knew that I couldn’t be that girl that went from brother to brother, and I definitely knew Luciano would not be that kind of person. So that left us in a dead end.
We made perfect sense for each other, but that’s all it would be.
Something good in theory.
Something that couldn’t be a reality.
Plus, there was the realization that if I was feeling that way about Luciano, it meant I didn’t really care for Marco.
The strange thing is, I do care for him. I probably shouldn’t, but I do. I like spending time with him, for the most part he treats me well, I feel comfortable with him. I’m not in love with him, but I never thought that was in the cards anyway. It’s hard to fall in love when you play them so close to your chest.
“I’m sorry Ruby,” he says to me. “I really am. I don’t want things to end, but they have to.”
But they don’t have to. That’s a cop out. We could make it work if we wanted to. There’s always a way. He’s just decided that the way isn’t worth it.
This sudden rejection aside, my major problem is that I don’t have a plan now. I sure as hell don’t want to stay in Lisbon anymore. I don’t know anyone here, my career attempt went nowhere. I’ve texted Luciano a few times after that night we kissed, but his answers were curt, so it’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk to me and wants to keep distance between us. I don’t blame him.
Now where am I to go?
And the bigger question is, how will I afford it?
“I’ve bought you a plane ticket,” he says, as if he can read my mind.
“What?”
“I bought you a plane ticket to Barcelona. That is where you wanted to go next, isn’t it?”
Now I’m full-on blinking like an idiot. “I don’t understand. You broke up with me and bought me a plane ticket?”
You want to get rid of me that badly?
“You can change it if you want. The date and time. I’ll pay the change fees.”
“When does it take off?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?!” I exclaim. “Marco, I can’t just leave tomorrow.”
“It’s in the afternoon,” he says, as if that’s helpful. “Look, I thought I was doing the right thing. I figured you’ve got two weeks left
