Madness or Love (Be With Me Book 1) (9 page)

BOOK: Madness or Love (Be With Me Book 1)
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“I need to take this. I’m sorry.”

“No problem. Take your time,” he reassured her.

She stood up, took the vibrating phone, made several
hasty steps, and took the call.

“Hey,” came Ian’s voice on the other end of the line.

She reached the front door and stepped out. “Hey.”

They both paused, savoring the moment of complete joy
and mutual understanding. Despite all the turmoil inside her soul, she smiled.

“I’m sorry,” were his first words. “I should have
called sooner.”

“Don’t be. I know you were busy,” she said quietly. 

“That isn’t a legit excuse. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Be careful.” She laughed. “I might actually wish for
something.”
I might wish for you
, echoed in her mind. “It’s nice to be
back home, huh?”

“I thought that, too, but sitting in an empty
apartment alone is not the best idea I have for a fun time.”

“You need to get away. Lose yourself in some tropical
island and shut out the rest of the world. A couple of days in radio silence
could do wonders,” Victoria suggested.

“I’m not convinced. Lying on the beach alone; I don’t


“Then ask someone to come with you.” A lump formed in
her throat. She knew the meaning behind her words, but he deserved to be happy
with someone. She did too. A group of giggly girls passed by her.

“Where are you?” he asked, ignoring her suggestion.

She hesitated. “Out.”

“A fun girl’s night out?”

She paused again. She had never lied to him; she
wasn’t about to start now.

“Victoria?”

“No,” she said weakly, fighting the guilt. “I’m having
a dinner . . . A date.”

It was his turn to fall quiet. “Oh, I didn’t know you
. . . were dating someone.”

Victoria felt the accusation in his voice, but she
couldn’t be sure if it was because she hadn’t told him or because she was with
another man. “It’s our first date.”

“Have you know him a long time?” Ian sounded tense.

“No, not really. I’ve met him once. He’s a friend of
Kim’s.”

The silence stretched. She had never felt so
uncomfortable talking to him. “Ian


“So,” he interrupted quietly, “you’re out with a man
you know nothing about.” After a sharp intake of air, he exploded. “Are you out
of your mind?”

It took her a few seconds to process his reaction.
“Excuse me?” She frowned at her phone.

“Do you live in a vacuum? Don’t you read the news?
What if he’s a sadist, a serial killer, a rapist, or a pedophile, or any kind
of creep for that matter?”

“You’re joking, right?” she asked.

Ian felt his rage rising; the room darkened, and his
vision blurred.
Damn you, Victoria
, he thought. He clenched the phone
tighter. “Do I sound like I’m joking? Do you have any idea how many perverts
are out there?”

Victoria felt torn between the warm feeling that he
cared and the anger. “This is ridiculous. Thomas is a great guy, and I actually
was having a great time . . .” She swallowed the last three words “before you
called” and bit her tongue. The sentence hung in the air, but he got the
meaning.

Ian ignored the comment and the pain in his chest.
“Please don’t tell me you’re planning to go home with him.”

Was that fear or disgust in his voice? Victoria opened
her mouth to protest or reassure him, to defend her actions, to tell him she’s
sorry, but in the end, her anger took over. All of the frustration and confusion
from the past few days seeped into her bitter words. “And how’s that any of
your business?”

“V . . .” he started with a softer tone.

“You had no problem when I went out with you the first
time.”

“That was different,” he growled.

She hated fighting with him and shivered
involuntarily. “And how was that different?”

“I would never hurt you.” His words came very slowly
and quietly, almost whispered in her ear.

She felt angry tears stinging in her eyes. “Really?
Are you sure about that?” she asked, desperately trying to control her voice.

Ian took a breath. Fighting with Victoria wasn’t easy.
The need to comfort her, to have her in his arms, took over the anger. “V


“You know what?” she interrupted. “I’ll hang up now,
before you or I say anything we’ll regret.”

“Victoria!” Her name lingered in the air, but she
pressed the red button. Her hands were shaking slightly. She blinked rapidly to
chase away the stinging reminder of her love. She starred at the phone—the last
and only connection she had with him. The display brightened again, lit by
Ian’s name. She turned the phone off.

The sounds around her sprang to life again. Being with
Ian felt like a vacuum, like some great power has pressed the ‘mute’ button. No
one else mattered. She shook off the feeling of despair and remembered her date
sitting all alone in the restaurant. The man inside didn’t deserve any of her
attitude or a woman who’s heart had been taken. She stepped back into the cozy
space and headed to the table.

Thomas smiled, but all of a sudden, his face
transformed with concern. “Is everything okay? Are you cold? You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

He saw her empty stare and knew their date was over.
“Shall I ask for the check?”

She nodded and looked at his concerned face. Life
could have been different for her with the man sitting in that chair. She could
have been loved, but her heart had chosen otherwise. And no matter how crazy
and hopeless her love was, she was tired of fighting it.

“I’m sorry,” she said simply.

“Don’t be. I had fun tonight.” He paused. “May I ask
something?”

She nodded again.

“Who is he?”

“Is it that obvious?” She sighed.

“You’ve had a distant look in your eyes ever since you
took that phone call. You don’t have to be a genius.”

“Thomas

” she
started.

“No, you don’t have to explain. But let me say this.
Whoever that person is, it seems to me he’s making you unhappy.” His face
beamed. “And you’re so beautiful when you smile.”

Victoria blushed and wondered if she had lost her
mind. She had rejected him, and in return, he was giving her compliments.

“Promise me you’ll do the best to be happy. I don’t
know why you’re sad. Maybe it’s because you try to fight the choice of your
heart instead of taking a leap. Or maybe you’re afraid to distance yourself and
move forward.” He took her hand. “Whatever your final decision is, know that
you can call me anytime, and I’ll be happy to help, listen, or . . .” He
trailed off and lowered his gaze.

“Thank you,” was all she managed to say, and squeezed
his hand back. “I will.”

They left the restaurant in silence and stood outside
for several minutes until the taxi came. He opened the door, and Victoria got
in.

“Be safe!” he leaned forward and said.

She tried to put on a friendly smile and then looked
away, fighting angry tears. The car took off, leaving a lonely man on the
sidewalk. She felt forlorn knowing she was going back to her empty apartment.
Victoria stared blankly at the life-filled streets on that beautiful Saturday
evening. Her mind wandered thoughtlessly. She searched for her purse, but
instead, her fingers found her phone. She sighed and turned it on. The seconds
passed by slowly, but finally the screen said
9 missed calls
. She
briefly closed her eyes, fighting the need to call him back, and then made a
decision. Victoria pressed the messaging icon and started typing. She read the
words out loud:
I hope you’re happy now. I’m going home alone.
She
pressed
send
and turned the phone off again, dreading another
conversation with Ian.

A single tear escaped her eye and rolled down,
staining her face. “Damn you, Ian,” she whispered to the darkness, and hoped
the mark Ian had engraved on her heart would heal one day. Someday.

 

* * *

 

On the other side of the Atlantic, 5500 kilometers
away, Ian sat on the floor of his New York apartment, staring blankly at the
pale-gray wall. The usual contents on the coffee table lay scattered beside him—a
few books, the mail, the New York Times, and his iPad. All were innocent
victims of Ian’s rage. A picture of him and Victoria, on the fireplace mantel,
caught his eye, and he stood up. They looked infinitely happy, and she had that
indescribable glow around her. They were laughing, and the vibe reverberated
through the room. Ian felt the hopelessness in his heart turn into anger. As
the minutes after she had hung up on him passed by, he could feel the joy
slipping out of his life. When did it all change? The emptiness crept up in his
soul. When did she become so important? Victoria was smiling back at his graved
face from the picture in his hands. He could feel the warmth, the love, and the
care that streamed from her bright green eyes.

“When did you become a part of me?” he asked the
joyful image. The thought of the other man flashed through his mind and
rekindled his anger. Then fear took over rage. “Did I lose you?”

His phone beeped somewhere buried under the scattered
mail on the floor. He was in no mood to talk but picked it up anyway.
One
new message
, said the display, and he opened it.
From V
, he read.
I
hope you’re happy now. I’m going home alone.
He blinked in disbelief and
then read it again. A grin spread over his face. Her simple words had brought
peace into his sour soul. It wasn’t too late. Free from the fear, his mind
worked in full speed. He might have just one shot, one chance to change their
fate, one moment in time to take a leap. He felt the weight lifting off his
chest by the sudden realization and acceptance of his feelings. Ian knew what
to do and dialed a number.

Chapter Nine

 

Victoria’s phone lay silent on the dining table next
to her bowl of veggie soup. A tasteless meal on that gray day that was almost
gone. The night and its shadows were stepping in, drowning the last of the
light piece by piece. The scenery was a true representation of her soul and
troubled mind. The only bright spot in the dim room was the thought of him.
Even the fear creeping in her couldn’t kill the powerful energy created by the
sound of his name. Ian. She sighed. The phone remained silent.

Since their fight, she had been mad, hurt, and
resentful; then the numbness took over, and she had been sitting for hours
staring blankly at the wall, holding a cold cup of tea. Regret had been the
next emotion settling in her heart. She wanted to go back and erase the words,
but she couldn’t. His silence didn’t help at all to ease her doubtful soul. Was
she wrong to snap at him? Had he really no right to mess with her love life? She
could almost feel their friendship falling into pieces. The burned bridge
between them was her fault; she was sure. She had broken the fragile line
between friendship and love. She had allowed herself, for just one night, to
believe in a future where they could be together. Now she was paying for that
bold, rash move. She never thought she might lose him, and the truth was she
missed her friend. Ian had become, imperceptibly, a part of her, a living,
beating part of her heart. Losing him, letting him go, meant letting a piece of
her soul die, allowing a part of her being to sink into eternal darkness. She
needed him in her life. If that meant sacrificing her love for him, she was
ready to do it. Victoria could live with a broken heart, but she couldn’t
survive with a shattered soul. Determination filled her body, and for the first
time in days, she was sure in her chosen path. Love might be impossible, but
their friendship would survive. She decided to give Ian some time, let the
fight and the moment she’d almost kissed him fade away. Time to forget. She
would forget, too, at least for a while. She would spend the next day, her
birthday, with her sister, and stop moping. She would start living again.

The doorbell rang over and over with an eerie sound
that filled the silent apartment. The buzz carried an urgency and impatience.
Victoria wondered who might be visiting at this hour because no one, except her
sister, knew she was off for a few days. Curiously, with a bit of uneasiness,
she cracked open the door. The sight made her freeze. Six-foot-tall male
perfection wearing jeans and a plain black T-shirt, cabin-sized suitcase in
hand, was casually leaning on the railing and smiling at her. Mesmerized by the
blue of his eyes, she stood there speechless, unable to move or think. Taking a
deep breath, Victoria finally found her voice, and her lips uttered a single word.

“Ian.”

She could only stare at him as time stopped, and neither
of them moved. His eyes burned through her, and then his gaze shifted slightly,
lingering for a second on her soft lips. Very slowly, he focused back and
pierced her green eyes.

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