No Love Lost - Chapter Five (Part Two)

[yakumtsaki]

 

It had not been a good day. The cook had, once again, kept her longer than the others. “You’re just a dishwasher, girl. Know your place”, he growled at her, saddling her with a fresh batch of dishes just as her shift was ending. She’d bitten her tongue and not talked back, since every time she opened her mouth in that place it got her into trouble. But that was done; she was home now and Pat was going to be there in a couple of hours. He always knew what to say to make her feel better. She was relieved to discover that the stray she’d picked up hadn’t broken anything while she was gone.

“You’re settling in then, your Majesty?”

The cat was stiff in her arms, it looked like she still didn’t like being touched. Isabella put her down.

“That’s alright, we'll get there. Want some dinner?”



“Oh, suddenly you don’t seem to mind touching that much”, she laughed as the cat furiously rubbed her head against her.

“Really, your Majesty, such shameless behavior is beneath your royal standing. You have a perfectly good meal in your bowl-”

She was almost thankful when a knock on the door interrupted her, it really was too ridiculous to be talking like that to an animal. But Pat wasn’t supposed to come over for a while. She prayed that it wasn’t the landlord, here to complain about the cat again.



“Dear God”, she sighed, hurriedly drying her hands on her skirt, “I already told him, there’s no mention of animals in the damn lease.”

She was getting progressively more upset while making her way to the door. “No, I don’t care that you didn’t think to put it in lease because people living here can’t afford to keep pets to begin with, a contract is a contract, useless old-” she murmured as she opened the door.



“Pat!” she let out, a little too excitedly for her liking. She wasn’t normally one to show her feelings easily, always hiding behind a cheerful but uninvolved exterior, but she was finding it harder to pretend around him.

“I’m so glad it’s you”, she continued, “I was preparing myself for another round with Marino, he will still not let it go about her Majesty-”



“I’m sorry I’m early”, he cut her off. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, so formal”, she smiled, making way for him to pass through. She felt anxiety course through her body as he walked in without touching her, his demeanor remaining cold. She hated how she became that way only with him, constantly overthinking anything he said and did. She was being ridiculous; it was late, he was just tired from work.



Still, as he made his way into the apartment, that nagging feeling wouldn't go away.

“Are you alright, Pat?” she asked, not sure whether she wanted an answer.

He was silent for what felt like ages.

“I need to tell you something, Isabella”, he finally replied. She felt her heart stop for a second but tried not to panic, following him as he took a seat on the couch.



He was silent again for a few moments, staring emptily at the floor. Steadily overcome with a feeling of dread, she could not bear it any longer.

“Just tell me, Pat”, she urged him, “I'm sure I can handle it”.



He looked up at her, his eyes filled guilt, and in that moment she knew it was over. She could feel everything inside her freeze up. When the words finally came out of his mouth, she was ready. There was no shock to be had.

“We need to end things, Isabella”.



“I see”, she replied, avoiding his gaze. She wanted to leave it there, say goodbye to him, but for all her effort the words still rolled off her tongue.

“Is there someone else, Patrizio?” Oh why, why did she ask. What was the use of knowing?

“There is. I’m sorry”, he said, looking her right in the eye. The nerve of him. If there was guilt or remorse in his tone this time, she could not discern it. All it sounded like was a statement of fact, and all she saw in his eyes was pity.



“Who is she, Pat? Do I know her?” she asked through gritted teeth. There was no pride to save at this point, she shouldn’t have asked at all from the start. It was too late now; might as well indulge that instinct of morbid curiosity.



“You do”, he replied, not meeting her eyes anymore. He took a long pause; she got the feeling he was struggling with what he was about to say.

“You met him the other day”, he finally continued. “It’s Consort. The day you met him was the day I met him”.



As known as she was for her sharp tongue, Isabella was left speechless. She tried as hard as possible to contain her reaction. What on earth was this? What was she supposed to say? She remembered walking into Patrizio’s apartment and finding Consort there, how cold he was when meeting her. She had thought him rude and arrogant back then, and maybe he was, but his behavior certainly made sense now. Who knows what the hell Patrizio had told him, probably more lies.

Oh, what an idiot she'd been, trusting someone she'd known for a month! She thought they were so well-matched, that the usual concerns didn't apply in this case. But now a different version of their time together appeared before her, and it was one of her being a careless moron, getting too invested too quickly, ending up in this pathetic position. Yes, there was nothing hard to believe about any of this. She had brought it on herself.



“I know it’s hard to understand, Isabella”, he continued, still not looking at her. “I have yet to make much sense of it myself, it all happened so quickly..” he trailed off for a second. “But it is what happened. And I can’t let it go”.

“And what about me?” she wanted to scream but remained silent. Tears started filling her eyes but she made no effort to fight them. She wouldn’t succeed anyway.



As if he had read her thoughts, he finally looked up at her.

“Not even for you”.



And there it was: the end. It was obvious to her that this wasn’t a dilemma in his mind; even if it had been once, he had dealt with it long before this conversation. How, how could he be so calm about it? How could he so easily choose him over her?

He jumped off the couch as she started crying.

“I’m so sorry, Is, I never meant for it to happen this way-”

“How can this be so easy for you? Don’t you care about me at all?” she managed between sobs, wiping away her tears.



“Of course I do, Isabella!” he cried out. “I wanted to marry you-”

Oh no, this was unbearable. She needed him out of her house.



“Please leave”, she cut him off before he could finish that sentence. She knew she didn’t want to hear how it ended.

For a moment it looked like he was going to say something; instead he just nodded and walked out.



Isabella lay on the couch as soon as the door had closed behind him. She couldn’t tell how much time had passed since then. The cat, curled up beside her, was long asleep. She didn’t feel pain or anger. All she felt was emptiness, and that she didn't know how to handle.

Was he with him now? Were they relieved, celebrating? Making plans for their future, the one she thought she'd have with him?

This was all really too pitiable and pointless. She got up, careful not to move the cat, and went to take a shower.



The water was never hot enough but she was used to it. Her mind cleared a little. She remembered that her friends had invited her out tonight; she really was in no mood to see anybody, but what good would sitting around moping do? Would it fix anything, would it change his mind? The role of the scorned lover wasn’t her, she wasn’t going to allow herself to be cast in it. Nor would she allow herself to think about him anymore. He sure as hell wasn’t thinking about her.



She took a look at the mirror one last time. Would others be able to tell what she felt? Was she good enough at hiding? She made a smile at the mirror. Patrizio would probably be able to tell if he saw her.



It was such a beautiful night that when she got to the pub, she felt no desire to go inside. For a moment she toyed with the idea of leaving and spending the rest of the night walking around. But she was already there now. And in heels.



Walking in, she could immediately spot her friends. It was hard to miss Carolyn's red hair. A jazz band was playing something easy to forget, which she was thankful for. She didn't need a song to associate with this night.



“Isabella! You made it!” chirped Joan. She seemed to be in a great mood, as usual.

“We thought you’d stand us up, again” added Carolyn.



“It’s good to see you two”, Isabella smiled, taking a seat.

“So.. You and Pat done early tonight?” Joan asked with a small wink. Isabella had to resist the urge to get up and run out of there.

“Joan!” said Carolyn with mock disapproval. “Really, where's the beau, Is?”



“Oh.. well, that’s over”, Isabella replied as if the information she was relaying could not be more mundane. It was still hard to hear it, even if it came from her own mouth.



“What?” asked Joaṅ, her eyes filled with disappointment.“What happened?”



“Nothing in particular. Ran its course, I suppose. Perhaps he met someone else? Don’t know, don’t care to know.” She was impressed with how convincing she sounded. At this rate, she’d start to believe it soon.



“I really don’t think that’s the reason, Is, who could he meet that would be a better fit than you? Are you sure you didn’t push him away?”

Isabella could barely stifle a laugh. It was quite the opposite.

“I don’t know, maybe I did.”

“Well you need to stop doing that to people!”



“Really, Carolyn, how is that helpful?”

“I’m sorry! Tell us how it happened, Is, what exactly did he say?”

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

“But it'd be better if you did!”



“You both need to calm down” Isabella laughed. “I’d tell you if there was anything worth mentioning, but I’m afraid the whole thing was terribly uninteresting. As is to be expected. Guys like him are a dime a dozen.” How she wanted to believe that last one.



“We’re just surprised, Isabellȧ, he seemed perfect for you. So kind and charming.”

“And funny, good looking-” Joan chimed in.



“Sounds like I should have let him know where to find you two”, she interrupted them. “I’m going to get a drink, try to keep the shock to a minimum while I’m gone and then let's talk about something else?”



The band had moved on to the love songs now. Isabella sighed as she waited for her drink. There was no saving this night.



After leaving Isabella’s, Patrizio wandered around for a while with no idea of where he wanted to go. He knew he didn’t want to go home. He knew he didn’t want to see another soul. He knew he needed a drink. The diner, long empty, seemed like the obvious choice. And he could drink for free there. The only advantage of that job.



He looked at the table where he met him. How had it been only a couple of days? And now he had left her for him, with hardly a second thought. It made him sick, hurting her that way. She hated him now. Who wouldn’t?



The bottle was half empty when he took it out. He finished what was left with the speed of someone being chased and wondered if he should open a new one. Maybe that was going too far and Alto would notice. But he could tell him to take it out of his salary. He felt light-headed. He could sleep on the couch here tonight, save himself the walk home. He was going to miss her. He already did.

He looked over to where Consort was sitting when they met. He was so different, so cold and quiet. Isabella was his kind; they fit together, they made sense, understood each other. They could have a life together, have a home, children.. What would he have with Consort? He could see a lifetime with Isabella and barely the next day with him.



Maybe this was a mistake. She was right, this had been an easy choice, but only because he didn't have time to think it through. And he wasn’t expecting her to cry. He thought she’d just be angry, her pride hurt from being left for a man. It had only been a month after all, and neither of them was the serious type. But she was going to be fine, she was strong, she had men chasing after her left and right..

She’d forget about him, find someone else, get married, have his kids. Dance with him, sleep with him, cook with him. Or for him, if he turned out to be some useless bastard. But no, she wouldn't settle for someone like that, she’d find someone good, better than he ever was. And she'd be happy.



Would he? With Consort, and whatever the hell this was between them? His skin burned whenever he touched him but was that just a sign of something unsustainable? He barely knew him and from what he did know so far, it was painfully clear, they had nothing in common.

And Consort seemed so changeable, half-ready to pack his bags and go at any given moment, too self-sufficient. Could he really ever know a person like that, let alone be with him? He could just be himself, with her. They were so alike.

He had to get out of there, go see him, before he forgot why he ever left her.



“Closing time, miss”.

It was almost 3 a.m. Carolyn and Joan had gone home for a couple of hours now. “We’re getting too old to be closing down bars, Is”. “We’re barely 25!” she had protested, in vain. They had to work the next day. She did too, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Going back to that apartment was the last thing she wanted to do.



“Don’t be rude, uncle”, the band's bassist intervened, having suddenly appeared, “let the lady finish her drink. I’d be happy to lock up for you-”

“Forget about it, Marco, last time you were happy to lock up we almost got robbed thanks to your stupidity”.



“But it’s so late and I’m going to be here anyway packing up, wouldn’t you prefer to go home and sleep, you have been looking so tired lately, I really am worried for your health-”

“Fine, fine! Just stop talking, Jesus Christ, once you start there’s no shutting you up..” he grumbled, leaving the keys on the counter.



“Not shutting up is my most attractive quality”, he smiled, turning to her. He was handsome. “Why not”, Isabella thought.



“What a coincidence” she replied, returning the smile, “it's mine too. So your uncle owns this place?”



“No, no, he’s just been running it for a long time. This place is actually owned..” he took a dramatic pause, leaning in as if he was going to divulge some terrible secret, “..by the Altos!”

Isabella almost choked on her drink, and then she broke into an uncontrollable laughter that she couldn't seem to stop.



“Sorry”, she finally said, still half laughing, “it’s just that I know someone who also works for them. Although in a place way, way worse than as this one”.



“Oh”, he smiled. “Is he a Mafioso?”

“No”, she said, trying not to start laughing again, “he’s just a waiter”.

“Is he the reason you’re drinking so much?”

Thankfully, the conversation was interrupted by the rest of the band walking over.



“Right, so we’re taking off. Don’t pay any mind to this guy, miss, he’s been talking about you all night-” the guy that Isabella recognized as the drummer started.

“Yes, thanks for a great show guys, now get out”, Marco cut him off with an embarrassed smile.

“So ill-mannered..what’s the lady going to think?” added the pianist.

“Goodnight!” Marco declared, exasperated.


It had been the two of them for a while now. Isabella liked him, he was easy to talk to, and the alcohol was certainly helping.

“So I already know you play the bass, do you work anywhere else?”



“No, I don’t have time, with school and all-”

“School?” she exclaimed. “How old are you?”

“I’m 22!” he laughed. “Why, do I not look it?” She looked at him more carefully; yes he certainly did look it. Dear God, a college boy. Probably had family money too, since he could just elect not to work.

“And what do you do?” he changed the subject, probably picking up on her hesitation. “Scotch taster?”



“I wish” she smiled, “no, I’m just a dishwasher in this restaurant downtown. The fancy kind you college kids frequent.” She scratched the label on her for a while. “One day, I want to have my own place though”.



“Oh! Would you hire me to play there?” God he was cheerful.



“Well I don’t know, you’d have to audition first. I’m running a classy joint after all, can't just hire the first 22 year old I meet at a bar”.



“Ah”, he said “wouldn't expect anything less from someone of your impeccable taste.”

“You’ll find that I’m immune to flattery” she laughed. “Rejected.”

“Then how about this, miss, there’s a piano right over there, should I audition for you right now?”



“Chef's choice, what do you want to hear?”

“Something happy.”



“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked as she turned away, in a vain attempt to hide her tears.

Not even for you. Oh why, why now?  Hadn’t she humiliated herself enough for one night?

“It’s nothing, I’m fine” she reassured him as she got up.



“Are you sure? Maybe I should call you a cab home-”



“Really” she laughed, “going home is the last thing I want to do right now.”



His legs were about to give up when he finally reached Consort’s building. His stomach hurt. He started to wonder what the hell had he been thinking, showing up drunk at his apartment at 3 in the morning. Maybe he could try walking home or back to the diner. Or sleep on a bench. Anything but knock.



And then he saw the light was on. What was he doing up at this hour? Reading, probably.

“Or maybe he has friends over” he thought and laughed to himself at how unlikely that was.



He had no idea how much time had passed with him standing outside his door; he couldn’t bring himself to knock.

“How pathetic is this?” he thought. “I’m going to end up passed out right on his doorstep”. No, he shouldn't have come here. He turned to leave.

“Is someone there?” Oh no.



“Patrizio, is it you?” Don’t answer.

“I really hope it is you and I’m not about to be robbed.”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s me, Consort, who would rob you?”

He heard him laugh and unlock the door.



He hadn’t realized how drunk he was until he could no longer use the door for support. He steadied himself on Consort, whose arms immediately opened into a protective embrace. It took Patrizio by surprise.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing, I’m just drunk.”

“Yes, that much is obvious. Come sit down.”



“I knew you would be reading” he said, hugging him back. “What’s it about?”

“The future” Consort sighed. “Just come sit down.”



“You look terrible, I should make some coffee-”

“I told her, Consort.” 

“Told her? Told her what, exactly?” 




“The truth.” 

Consort was silent for a few moments. 

“I don't understand” he finally replied, “why didn't you just tell her you are leaving her for some girl-”



“Because I loved her, Consort, I wouldn’t leave her for just some girl!” Patrizio cried, suddenly furious.



“I’m sorry” he replied, trying to hide his disappointment, “I wasn't aware you had such strong feelings for her.”

“How could you not be aware of that?” Patrizio spat back at him.

“I don't know, perhaps because your behavior since we met gave no such indication.”

Patrizio didn't reply, only looked coldly at him for a moment, before turning to leave.



“Wait, wait!” Consort exclaimed, trying to stop him. “I’m sorry about Isabella, I really am. Just sleep here, you’re in no condition to walk”.



“You’re not sorry about Isabella, so don’t lie, Consort” he said, pulling his arm away.



“Oh, is that how you see me? You really think me so heartless?”



“I don’t know what I think of you, Consort. I don’t know you at all.”



“Alright”, Consort continued after a few moments of stunned silence. “Think what you will of me, Patrizio, blame me for Isabella to your heart's content, I don't care, but you are not walking out of here in this state. Lie down.”



“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m sorry for imposing on you on this way-”

“I was going to be up all night reading anyway” he said with a cold smile. “Won’t even notice you are here.”



“Tell me about him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The mafioso, tell me about the mafioso. The one you’re getting all drunk for.”

“We haven’t established that I am” she laughed.



“Don’t do that” he said, suddenly serious. “Don’t laugh while you’re hurting.”



“Oh that is a good one”, she replied, taking the blunt from his hand. “Did they teach you that in college?”

“I’m only saying..” he smiled, “it helps to talk about things sometimes.”



“And sometimes shutting up about them helps even more.”



“I wouldn’t know” he laughed.

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“The sun will be up soon.”

“Then I better hurry up.”

 


“You never told me your name.”

“Isabella.”

Patrizio managed to sleep only for a few hours. He woke up  just when the sun had come out, his head killing him. The first thing he saw was Consort, asleep with this head on the table. “Of course he would prefer that to sleeping next to me” he murmured.  

  
He saw his clothes neatly folded on the chair and realized he was wearing an undershirt that wasn’t his own. “God, did he actually dress me?” Standing up, he realized he could still barely walk straight. He was relieved to remember he didn’t have work today. 



“Consort..” he went to wake him up but stopped. He didn’t know what to say to him, or if there was anything to be said at all. 



“Goodbye.”



Consort watched him walk away until he disappeared behind the corner. For a moment he felt the urge to chase after him but couldn't bring himself to. What could that possibly accomplish after all? He had already left. And it was far too early; and maybe too late.