INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 56
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
I saw it in her eyes before she said it.
Our gaze was locked in a silent battle, an emotion that resembled love flickering in those tumultuous ocean-blue depths of hers. It lingered there, heavy and undeniable, even before she spoke the words that struck me like a bolt of lightning—words that made bile rise in my throat.
"I love you."
Like a foól, I retreated, a move I regretted the moment I did. There was no way to unsee the paÃn reflected in those stunning eyes that I adored so much.
"Dominic?" Her voice broke through the haze, an urgent reminder that I hadn’t yet responded. "Aren't you going to say something?"
"What... what do you want me to say?"
Seriously, could I be any more of an idiót right now?
I fumbled my words and actions, failing to comfort her when she needed it most. Instead, I felt like an unrecognizable version of myself, trapped in a web of my own making.
"Something. Anything." Genevieve inhaled deeply, her breath revealing the desperation and frustration I had caused. "Just... just say anything."
So, Dexter had been right. Even Aurora had seen it all along. Why had I been so blind?
"I don't know what to say," I admitted, the honesty stinging my tongue.
"What do you mean you don't know what to say? I just confessed my feelings to you..."
"Maybe you’re mistaken," I interrupted, earning a scoff filled with disbelief. "Perhaps you’re just saying that because... because you're húrt right now."
"What?"
I sighed, struggling to find the right words that wouldn’t cut deeper. She was already on the verge of tears, and I felt responsible for that. "Genevieve, you don’t love me. I’m not good for you. I understand you’re not in the right frame of mind, but..."
"But nothing!" she snapped, her voice trembling. The paÃn I caused her twisted like a kñife in my gut. She rose from the bed, prompting me to stand as well. "You can’t dictate what I feel. I love you, Dominic, and it's okay if you don’t feel the same. But dismissing my feelings like I’m just a child who doesn’t know what she wants is unacceptable."
"You can’t want me, Genevieve."
"Why? Why can’t I?!"
"Because I don’t love you. I will never love you." The words escaped before I could cage them, and I hatéd myself for it. Tears streamed down her face, and I wanted nothing more than to punch myself in the face. "Genevieve..."
"No, no, don’t—just don’t say anything." She held up her hand, silencing me once more. "Just don’t." After a scoff, she wet her lips, her frustration palpable. "Why is it so hard for you to admit it? Why can’t you just tell me what I know you feel? I see it in your eyes... in your actions. Why won’t you just say it?"
"Say what? That I love you when I don’t?"
"You do. I know you do."
"I don’t. You’re being delusional, okay? We are friends, Genevieve. Friends."
Genevieve barked out a humorless laugh, running her fingers through her beautiful, long strawberry-blonde hair. She stared at me incredulously before snapping, "Friends? We’re friends? Friends don’t do what we do. Friends don’t kiss each other, don’t have countless nights of intimacy, and don’t give each other nicknames. We’re not just friends, Dominic!"
This conversation was spiraling into chaos.
An exhausted sigh escaped my lips. It felt futile to try to convince her that this notion of love was unfounded.
I didn’t love her. If I felt anything for Genevieve, it couldn’t be love. The risks were too great for both of us. She had already been kidnappéd once; I couldn't put her in that position again.
And beyond the dañger, I truly didn’t love her. It would be a betrayal to my parents to fall for the child of their kÃller. I already felt awful for liking her enough to kÃll for her; falling for her would be crossing a line I couldn't bear.
"You’re seeing things that aren’t there, Gen. Yes, I like you, but..."
"Can you stop with your buts? Can’t you see that you’re húrting me?"
"I’m sorry."
"Don’t apologize. That just makes me feel worse."
"What do you want me to do?" My patience frayed.
"Say the truth."
"The truth is, I will never see you as anything more than a friend. Whatever you envision happening between us after your confession is nothing more than a fanciful illusion. I don't love you."
More tears spilled from her eyes, and with each drop, I felt like a complete jerk for inflicting this pà in upon her. "You're lying. I know you love me. What I don't understand is why you won't just admit it."
"There's nothing to admit."
"Really?" she pressed. "You don't love me?"
"No, I don't."
"And if I may ask, why not?"
I racked my brain for a convincing excuse, but nothing came to mind. I couldn’t allow her to believe she was right, so I let the next words tumble out of my mouth. "You're just a kid."
The moment the words escaped, I wanted to take them back. The look that crossed her face was so unsettling it cut me to the core. All I wanted was to pull her into my arms, but I knew that wasn’t the right time.
She was angry, and I deserved it.
"Oh." Her tone shifted, as if the painful truth was finally dawning on her. Genevieve tilted her head, let out a humorless chuckle, and continued, "So, I was a kid all those times you kissed me? I was a kid during all those moments we shared, wasn’t I? And definitely a kid when you treated me to all those strawberry milkshakes because kids love sweet things, right? Or maybe I was a kid when you fell asleep on my lap? Perhaps I was a kid when you looked into my eyes and told me I was the best thing that ever happened to you? I was just a kid..."
"Genevieve." I grasped her arm, desperate to halt the torrent of words that was causing us both excruciating paÃn. "Please... please, stop. You know I didn’t mean that."
"Do I?!"
"Gen..."
She wrenched her arm away from my grasp. "I’m leaving."
I tightened my grip on her wrist, knowing I might leave a mark, but I wouldn’t let go—not until she stopped struggling. "No, you’re not. You’re not going anywhere."
"I don’t want to be here anymore. Not with you."
"Then I’ll leave your room."
"I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now."
"Well, you don’t have a choice because I’m not letting you go."
Genevieve glared up at me, her teeth clenched in fury.
"It’s late." I added, hoping to reason with her.
"I don’t care."
"Genevieve, why won’t you listen?"
"Because I’m a kid." She shot back.
She was never going to let me live that down. I knew how much she resented being called a kid, and yet I had said it—I deserved every bit of her fury.
"Vixen..." I began.
"I don’t want to hear whatever you have to say. Let go of me." I didn’t, and her struggles intensified. "Dominic, let me go."
"I can't. I need you to listen to me."
I had to find a way to make this right. Knowing Genevieve, she must be spiraling into a whirlwind of untrue thoughts about why I didn’t love her.
"You know what?" Genevieve said suddenly. "I’m done."
Done?
What the héll did that mean?!
Her words caused my grip on her wrist to loosen, allowing her to pull free. She stepped back, creating distance between us.
"Done? What do you mean?" I asked, unease creeping into my chest and stomach. "What do you mean by 'you’re done'?"
Genevieve shrugged, her lower lip jutting out slightly. "I’m done with..." She gestured between us. "Whatever you think is happening here. I’m done."
Is she... Is she really saying what I think she is saying?
"Genevieve."
"Please, leave, or I will."
Her expression was all seriousness, without a hint of playfulness.
She wasn’t joking. She meant it. How could I convey to her that I couldn’t go a single day without her? Didn’t she already know that?!
"You don’t want to leave?" She raised an eyebrow and attempted to sidestep me. "I will go then."
"Wait." She halted, and when I reached for her hand, she pulled back. I blinked in surprise at her rejection, shocked by how much it húrt. I cleared my throat and said, "I will go."
Maybe she just needed to sleep. Tomorrow would bring clarity, and everything that had happened would seem like a distant dream to both of us.
Genevieve can’t possibly love me, nor could she truly mean that she’s ending our relationship. She can't do that. I won’t allow her to do that.
Feeling dejected, I turned and made my way to the door, but not before hearing her mutter to herself, "Stúpid, stúpid, stúpid," her back turned to me.
Tomorrow better be better.
TBC
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