I gather all my things from the bathroom and pack up my bags. I fold the extra blankets and pillows and stack everything.
Then, I wait.
Lucia has to know I’m here.
My car is parked in Franco’s driveway.
Damn.
I’m all packed up and sitting on the edge of Franco’s bed when he plods upstairs. He notices me just sitting there and cocks his chin.
“What’s going on?” he asks, looking around the room, until his eyes land on my bags.
I give him a stiff smile. “I need to get back to my aunt’s. The rent is due today. I’ve spent plenty of time squatting at your place. It’s time we get back to normal.”
The fairy tale has gone on far too long. Longer than I should’ve allowed it, because now, I’m afraid my heart can’t handle life without him in it.
He scrubs a hand over his chin and nods. “Whatever you want, babe,” He looks like he wants to say more, but he just asks, “Are you planning on coming to dinner tomorrow night?”
I stand and shake my head slowly. “You’ve all hosted me for long enough. I should get back to my place, restock the fridge, and clean. There has to be a thick layer of dust by now.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It’s dirty.”
He shakes his head. “About the hosting?”
I glance down at my feet, feeling more uneasy and sadder than I thought possible. “I’m going to skip a week. Let you guys have a family meal without me.”
He smiles, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His lips are tight, and he’s got a fist clenched over his chest. “Whatever you want, Chloe. Will I see you at the install tomorrow? Vito and his buddies were planning on being at your shop around eight.”
I nod. “Absolutely. And you’ll see me at Easy Start on Monday.”
This feels absolutely horrific. Way worse than what I’d imagined. He’s not asking me to stay. He’s not asking to see me again. He’s not saying much of anything.
It was just sex,Chloe, I remind myself. Franco is gorgeous and probably has lots of flings like this.
We hardly know each other. I have to remind myself that this didn’t mean to him what it did to me. Just because I’ve been more real and more open doesn’t mean that what’s happening in my heart is happening in his.
My legs feel weak, but I stand and give Franco my most sincere smile. “Thank you so, so much for all you’ve done.” I laugh and there are tears behind it, so I can’t let it go on too long. “You’re…” I trail off because I can’t finish without crying.
He knows what he is. I’m the one who doesn’t know what she is. Not anymore. He only helped me see a side of myself that I want to develop. And for that, I am truly thankful.
I want to touch him, throw myself against that bare chest and thank him, but I know if I smell him again, the musk and cologne of his skin against mine, I will start sobbing. So I don’t. I grab my things in a rush and try to brighten my voice to cover the quivering.
“So, this was fun,” I say a little too maniacally as I grab my bags.
I lug my things down the stairs, and Franco stays at the top, just watching me.
“Five-star review. Would highly recommend.”
The coffee I made is untouched in the kitchen, which I notice as I’m frantically scouring the counter for my keys.
“Don’t forget to turn off the coffee!” I yell, reminding him because his memory is shit when it comes to things like appliances. “Will you be there tomorrow?” I ask. “At the shop.” But then I realize that sounds like I’m asking him to see me again, and I don’t want to pin him down. Don’t want to assume. “No worries either way.”
I find my keys, and with Franco still at the top of the stairs looking down, I slide into my boots. “See you soon,” I call out awkwardly, hustling out the front door.
And that’s all the goodbye I can manage. I tug the door closed behind me, throw my stuff in my trunk, and get into my car. And by some miracle, I am able to keep the tears from flowing until I pull away.
