I couldn’t believe how well he’d taken this. I hadn’t expected it at all. I was somewhat relieved but concerned at the same time. Most guys would have gone ballistic and thrown me out by now. Why was he so different? I couldn’t stay, I just couldn’t. It was inevitable that I would hurt him so bad that anything that could possibly be would shatter instantly and remain un-fixable.
I pulled away from the kiss almost instantly, moving away from him and collecting my bag from the sofa. He stopped me just before I got to the front door. I moaned with frustration.
“Let me go.” I told him straight, looking him directly in the eye.
“No.” he simply responded.
“Why are you making this so difficult for me, Milo?” I cried, slamming my fist against the door. I wished I hadn’t, my hand hurt now; though I didn’t let on. I walked away from the door and over towards the far side of the room, my back turned to him the entire time.
“How is this difficult, Sophia? All I’m doing is trying to tell you that I don’t care what you are, or what you do, but that I care about you.”
“Care about me?” I shouted, spinning around to face him, “You don’t even know me! We met once at your bar two days ago and I wasn’t even in the best state of mind. The only reason I even came at all that night was because no one had booked me, or else I wouldn’t have come at all and you would never have met me!” The glimmer in his eyes was slowly melting and it broke my heart. This was the kind of hurt that I never wished for him to feel. It would only get worse if he continued to care about me as much as he said he did. I sighed and continued calmer, “Milo, I can’t care about you or even learn to love you for the sake of my job. I have very script rules that I’m obliged to follow.”
“Then break them.” He told me, matter of factly. He began to pace over towards me, a calm expression masking the hurt that he felt inside his chest.
“I can’t,” I whispered, refusing to let anymore tears escape, “this is what I am: a prostitute; an escort to put it politely. Things would never work between us.”
“Who says it wouldn’t?” he asked, less than a foot away from me now. He unfolded my arms, from around my waist, and held my hands firmly, “You are the only person who can choose to follow the rules or be happy. Do you want to be happy, Sophia?”
“Of course I do,” I murmured. The tears had won the battle and left a trail of dark mascara stains down each of my cheeks, “but I just can’t.”
I’d expected him to come back with some other reason why we could be together but, instead, he leant in and kissed me tenderly. I melted. Unlike the previous two kisses we’d shared – outside the club and just moments ago – this one was gentle and meaningful, whereas the others had been rushed and forceful. He pulled me closer into his arms, holding me just below my shoulders, and I placed my hands on his waist. Maybe I could do this… just maybe.