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Second chapter song: Labios Compartidos by Mana

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Forever The Friend

Betty had a hard time unlocking the front door of her apartment building reminding herself for the tenth time not to take a midnight flight never again. After a few minutes, she finally went through the corridor on the way to the elevator. She lived in a very modest flat in Manhattan for an editor of a prominent Publishing Company like the Meade Corporation, but she had other ideas about where to invest her money. She stopped in front of the lift and hit the button several times without response. She took a deep breath. That wasn't her best day. She would have to call the manager first thing in the morning. She grabbed her small suitcase and walked up the stairs up to the sixth floor. While she went up she checked her phone: not even a call. She wasn't really upset for the elevator malfunction, what really bothered her all the way back to New York in the airplane was that she really couldn't understand the reason Gio hadn't told her about Antonella's wedding. She had to find out from Mrs. Rossi herself, among all the people.

She had gone to Miami that weekend and took some free time to accompany her father, Ignacio, to Hilda's home. She managed to pay a visit to the Rossi family, like she always did when she went south. She couldn't believe she had to endure her face of disappointment as she admitted not only as she didn't knew about the matter but that she had no idea about Gio's whereabouts for weeks. And she called herself 'his friend'!

The old lady was eager to fill her in with the accounts of how Nella met her new fiancé and all the unnecessary details about Gio's latest love interest who seemed to be a real beauty, as Mrs. Rossi carefully described, who also 'was so obviously made for him'. Betty was surprised that Gio had even introduced that woman to his family when she hadn't even heard about her before. Mrs. Rossi was very interested in meeting her in person at Antonella's wedding in New York and would love to know Betty's impression about her, after all, she said: "you're also part of the family".

Part of the family.

Her foot got stuck in a small crack on the carpet and Betty tripped forward. She kept herself steady as she took hold of the wall. She cursed, took off her broken shoe and kept walking.

"Not even one single email", she thought. She was used to long days of absence but not to hear a word about family matters? That was just too much! She believed to be part of the Rossi family as much as he belonged to the Suarez. Both Gio and her were the ones that supported Antonella in her studies and later, designer career, in New York ever since her parents moved back to Florida many years ago leaving her to the care of her older brother. Antonella was always going around in her ways of the world and she was still too young and too crazy to observe social rules but she expected better from Gio. He had always managed to keep her informed of the latest news about her 'little foster sister'.

"He must be really into this woman to make him forget about family commitments", she thought fishing again the keys from her extremely colorful designer's purse. She stared at the keys for a while unconsciously trying to find a more suitable explanation. She knew that Gio didn't like emails claiming they were 'too impersonal'. So she had to rely on his phone calls for communication. Not even a single message.

She unlocked the door and entered her apartment. It wouldn't be long until she find out about him.

The first shock was the slap of the stench of alcohol filling the place. She threw the keys on the table by the door and turned on the lights.

"Argh! Turn it off!" Someone protested from the living room couch.

"Gio, what are you doing here?"

"Turn it off!"

She dimmed the lights to have enough vision to move around the living room and not to upset her unexpected guest.

"You could at least call me to tell me you were coming".

He slowly incorporated and rested his bare back on the sofa and muttered in a raspy voice. "I just wanted a place…"

"…to be on your own" she completed. It wasn't the first time she heard that.

She went to the kitchen and returned with two glasses of water. He drank his in one gulp. "How long you've been here?" she asked.

"Two days".

She noticed the bag in a corner of the living room. She knew he would never use her bedroom when she wasn't in the house. She took off her cardigan and the skirt and put them in the arm of the closest chair then turned around to the man who was sitting right in front of her.

"Did you bring any woman?"

He grunted.

"I know the rules".

She knew he did. They both observed the rules. They were too afraid to lose each other.

He yawned loudly.

"I thought you were coming tomorrow. I was going to pick you up".

"Caught an earlier flight. Check your email".

"I always check my email".

"I mean, daily".

She sat by his side and noticed his reddened eyes surrounded by circles of deep gray painted his sick pale skin as he turned his head back in the couch claiming for support. "Who is she?" she asked.

"You don't know her".

Must have been that woman who worked in a gallery, she thought, the one 'perfect for him' that Mrs. Rossi was so much talking about. No wonder he wasn't in his apartment. It must have been filled with paintings, other works of art and all her memories plastered on the walls. And all that after just a few months of sharing their lives together. She always wondered how Gio managed to give his all in so little time. For years she had seen him submerge aggressively into countless relationships with an insatiable hunger as if he tried desperately to find something he had lost somewhere. He always gave himself completely and every time ended there, spent and tired of loving. No matter how many times she tried, she could never convince him to give up on that endless search for real love. "Why couldn't he be just shallow and simple?" She questioned herself. "Why he had to be so passionate about everything?"

"What happened?" she asked stroking his hair, that magnet that always attracted her fingers. He let her pamper him for a minute or so and then reached for one of the many beer bottles aligned in the coffee table in front of him. He sipped from it and made a gesture of disgust. It was hot.

"It didn't work out".

He never opened his heart to her.

"How long will you be staying?"

"Until tomorrow".

—0—

It was morning already and Betty looked at her wristwatch, it was late but it didn't matter anymore. She was in no rush. She placed a bowl of cereal on top of the night table near him. He adjusted the pillows behind his neck.

"When are you going to learn to make real food?"

Betty pulled one of his toes for all answer as she walked to take her place in the bed. She turned on the TV, put the newspaper in her lap, singled out the sports section and placed it on top of that naked body she had by her side.

"Are we changing your locks this morning? I can help you repaint it if you want to. I have nothing to do today".

"No, please, don't!" He laughed, "Lime green and purple, again?"

"I didn't say I would pick the colors, you, ungrateful".

She went after his chest but he caught her arm before she could reach it and pulled her until she was on top of him. She laughed as he won against her failed attempt to hunt his nipple and took hold of her waist securing her in an embrace. She rested her elbows in the bed, by his side, unable to move inside her delicious imprisonment, feeling him warm under her and finding it really hard to stop laughing. He silenced her, becoming one in a lingering kiss, feeling her search for him as she played with his lips and his tongue for a moment. She suddenly pulled away.

"Ah! The beard!"

She touched him and gently massaged her fingers against the roughness of his face. And she saw him smile at her. He was so beautiful to her eyes. Not only because of those boyish features that gave him a younger look to his four decades of life but of those expressive eyes that reflected the purity of his soul and the passion in his stare; those meaty lips that seemed to have been drawn by the very hand of Apollo himself, lips that were so honest and giving. She felt her own body overflow with joy and delight at his contemplation. She looked at him with the eyes of love. She smiled back and said looking right through his beautiful jet black eyes:

"I love you… so much".

His lips formed a line and a cloud passed over his face for a second. She blinked at this and the smile erased from her face. He frowned realizing the impact of his own reaction and kissed her quickly on her forehead before he incorporated sitting in the bed. He coughed and grabbed the bowl of cereal.

Her heart sank inside her, cursing. She knew the rules.

Her eyes watered and she could barely see the wall of his bare back standing right in front of her. Her hand reached for his skin and she felt him slightly react to her touch. With her left hand she whipped those stupid tears that threatened to fall. She was no child. She should've known better.

She knew her place. She rested her head in his right shoulder, slightly hugging him as her left hand caressed his back. How many times she had desired to break those damned rules! How many times in the ecstasy of their love she wanted to shout his name a million times and release her feelings, to let it all free. But she had no choice but to bit her lips drowning the words in her soul. She must never say his name; they must never love again... Those were the rules they made for themselves.

She was more than a friend, less than a lover: a sinner, a body to take, an ear to speak and a mouth to kiss. Would she ever be really forgiven? Would she ever be worthy? She frowned and her heart grew cold again. She couldn't afford to invest in a feeling without future. He wasn't for her. She destroyed every possibility to be anything else. Their time was long over and anything beyond what they had would be a mistake, a betrayal to that young Gio she killed long ago.

"So," she finally said, "are we moving today?"

"Maybe tomorrow", he responded vaguely.

"You are making excuses again. You told me 'tomorrow' two weeks ago".

The sound of the crushing cereal inside his mouth was all that was heard for half a minute.

"You don't want me here, now?"

She got closer to him and hugged him tighter from the back.

"Papi will come tomorrow for a couple of days. I wouldn't like him to see you here. He'll ask questions".

"He knows I'm always here".

"Yes, I know" her head was still resting in his shoulders feeling him. Her dad didn't understand what they had. Every time she tried to be open and explain he kept saying that all they did was hurting each other and prolonging the pain. He knew nothing, she thought. He was too old fashion and she was too old to argue with him. No, he wouldn't understand how hard it was for her to let him go.

"Fine", Gio said rising and breaking free from her arms. "I'll move out this morning". He turned to face her and winked at her before walking to the kitchen. "But no lime green, you hear me?"

She sighed. People around her could tell he was using her and that she was equally using him. And she pretended she didn't care. But she did care.

It was her own punishment.

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Next Chapter: Forever The One