Hers.
30
Rosalia
Bright light burned my eyes. It was coming in strong from the wall of glass. It was so hot that I could feel it covering me like a blanket, but when I closed my eyes and moved my head, my pillow felt chilled and wet.
My cheeks felt damp, too, and my body clammy. Every so often, a bone-deep tremble would move through me. I must have been crying in my sleep.
I blinked, clearing my eyes, and took in the view. It was spectacular. Mountains rising high in the distance. Green, lush foliage as far as the eye could see. It seemed like there was no one around for miles and miles. A private, secluded spot in the world.
I closed my eyes to the view and turned my body away from the sun. A tear rolled over my nose and slid down my cheek. When I opened my eyes, I moved my head back a little.
Aniello was directly in front of me. He was dressed in the same clothes he’d worn at Bluesy, and so was I, sans the heels I’d worn.
He reached out and dried the trail the tear had left, but I moved my head when I smelled something metallic on his hands. Bruises were patched on his skin, and his knuckles were bloodied and raw.
“What…?” I whispered. I couldn’t even get the full sentence out.What happened?My lips felt chapped and my mouth dry.
“What?” he repeated, his eyes searching mine.
“What—what?” My voice cracked a little on the secondwhat.
He moved back a little, almost like he was unsure what I was going to do. “Rosalia,” he said, but it almost sounded like a question.
Instead of meeting his intense stare, I looked behind him at an empty wall. My heart jumped in my throat as I hopped out of the bed.
“Where are they?” I said in a rush. I ran my hands along the smooth, wooden wall, but hundreds of splinters might as well have entered my skin for as panicked as I felt.
Aniello had sat up, and as he ran a hand through his hair, he said, “Where are what, Rosalia?”
“You know WHAT!” I shouted. “The pictures! Oh my God! Where are they? Niello! Was I dreaming?” My heart thundered so hard in my chest that I thought my knees would give out. “Please. Tell me I wasn’t dreaming. The cassettes. The boombox. The pictures.Us. Angelia.My baby.Oh, my baby.” I slapped my hands over my face to hide the tears.
He was up at once, holding me close. “It’s real, Rosalia,” he said in my ear.
I tried to push away from him, but he only gave me so much room. “Why did you take them down then? Why would you give me all of that and then do that to me?” I was suddenly angry, so fucking angry.
“Rosalia,” he said, his accent stronger. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted me to think, or to remember.
“Oh,” I said after a few minutes. “I clocked out for a while?”
“Three days,” he said. “I didn’t know where you’d be when you started to realize what was going on.”
“You didn’t want me to freak out again,” I said.
“Basically.”
I was on an emotional roller coaster ride. I grinned at him a little. “Basically” from him was close to “duh.”
A helpless noise came from my mouth when he held me so tight that I couldn’t breathe. He didn’t seem to care, not for a few moments. Then, when he finally let me go, a little awkwardness slipped in between us.
My eyes looked everywhere but at him, taking in the cabin, since the light was so bright, and all of the details had come to life. But it wasn’t the details of the cabin that made it a home.
“Can I have the pictures? Everything that was in here last night?”
“Three days ago,” he said.
I nodded. “Three days ago.”
