The 11th Night
They have an epic fight in front of everyone inside Pino's. All the feelings and affections they have for each other crack, shatter, and then start to crumble. Too many hurtful words are exchanged, too many false accusations carelessly thrown. They have been trying to solve all their problems. They have been trying to build a future together. They have been trying to forget all their differences. They have been trying to settle with what they have. They are both in their 30. They share an ugly history. They both have doubtful reputations. They have been trying really hard to make things work. They are both too proud and too stubborn. They both hear the Clock ticking. They both feel the growing pressure from their mothers. They are starting to worry and feel the heat. They don't have the same dreams. They don't want the same things. They are not each other's first choice. They are both secretly in love with someone else. And they both hate themselves for not having the courage to go after the forbidden love.
They like each other. They tolerate each other. They have sex and make not so funny jokes. They drink beer, eat pizza, and watch TV. They sometimes talk about having kids and all kinds of boring things. But do they love each other? Are they in love with each other? They have doubts, but they never ask the Million Dollar Question. They are scared shitless of what they may find out. They both feel insecure and frustrated. They are both good liars and actors. They both wish they can stop longing for the persons they truly want but an not have. And sometimes they can't stand the sight of each other. They pick fights on purpose and break up from time to time. They get back together and pretend everything is peachy and fine from time to time. They are afraid to make commitment. They are not ready to make compromises and sacrifices. They are not willing to change. They feel trapped and lonely. But they just can't say no to their mothers.
Tonight they are both depressed and angered. He dreams of the cold-eyed curvy blonde every night. She wants to wake up every day in those Mocha Latte arms. He wants her to stop hanging around with her dangerous crazy mentor and get a safer job. She wants him to mind his own business and stop bossing her around. Things quickly get out of hand. But they are too angry and too upset to give a damn. They poke at old scars. They sneer and make cruel remarks. They are thirsty for blood and they bare their fangs. They have known each other for ages. They know how to make each other hurt. He lets out a bark of laugh and makes an extremely rude and improper comment. She glares at him with blazing eyes and slowly spits out the poisonous toxic forbidden words.
She wins.
Pain, regret, sorrow and humiliation tear through his heart. His mind becomes clouded and blank. He can hear his boiling blood thrashing through his veins. In a sudden fit of cold murderous rage he draws back his hand as if to slap her across the face. People around them stare in shock and gasp. She stands there looking at him with widened eyes. She doesn't have enough time to react. The resilience and defiance in her eyes help him catch himself in time. He lowers his hand. His anger ebbs. All those people are watching. He feels ashamed. He has thought he's not the same. He has thought he's stronger, braver, and smarter. He has thought he broke the family curse. He's not a mean drunk. He's not a nasty gambler. He's not a notorious cheater. He has never ever raised his hand to a woman. Until now. He has let his rage get the better of him. He is no different from his grandfather, father, uncles, cousins, and elder brother. He is this close to marry a woman he doesn't really love. He is about to move in to a world made of lies. He's too afraid to go to the woman he loves and confess his love. He doesn't want her family background to become an obstacle in his has great dreams. He is too ambitious. He keeps lying to himself and the rest of the world.
He is a Morelli man.
He opens his mouth trying to say he's sorry. Stephanie grabs her bag, turns around, and flees. He can hear people murmuring not exactly under their breath. He can feel people staring hard at him. He can feel his own face burning. He can see his mother frowning. He can feel his chest tightening. He feel tired and sorry for himself. He has unwittingly burned the bridge. There is no way Stephanie is coming back to him. Not after this. She has been beaten, threatened, kidnapped, and once tortured. It's not a national secret how she feels and thinks about violent men. He has shown the dark unpleasant hidden side of him. In public. He can still feel the adrenaline rushing through his body. He can still feel the the tempting, teasing, taunting sensation. He has tasted the power lying deep down within. And somehow it feels good and satisfying. He has awoken the beast. He has no idea if he will ever be able to coax it back to sleep. And now he is both frightened and excited.
Joe Morelli closes his eyes for a second to collect himself. He takes a long calming breath. He pays the check and walks out of the crowded pizzeria. He holds his head high and his back straight. He gets in his brand new Chevrolet Tahoe and starts the engine. He heads for his 2-story lovely cozy sweet silent empty house. He thinks of Bob, his goofy friendly playful dog. He thinks of Terry Gilman, the woman he loves and wants but can not have.
He's glad that this time Stephanie Plum is not coming back.