"Send it to him," Silvia urges gently.
I hesitate for only a second but then I attach the photo, and type:
Thanks. It is fun. Could get used to it.
I catch myself smiling as I hit send. My heart gives a little flutter. I’m flirting.
The smile fades for a split second—Is it too soon?
No.
This time, I will not question everything and overthink my own joy.
If I feel like it, then I’ll do it. I trust myself. And I leave the phone in the room as we head for the club.
* * *
The rest of the night is a blur of sensory overload. We dance until my feet burn in my heels. We laugh until our sides ache, screaming the lyrics to songs we barely know.
Somewhere after midnight, we’re back to our suite, on the balcony overlooking the fountains.
"To survival," Silvia says, raising her half-empty champagne glass.
"To survival," I echo, clinking my glass against hers.
But as the bubbles settle on my tongue, I realize something.
Survival isn't enough anymore.
Survival is just staying alive.
I want more. I want the mess, the love, the risk. I want to live.
I reach up and touch the teal sapphire necklace, cool against my heated skin.
It was a promise of clarity, and I finally have it.
I'm ready.
Chapter 29
A LIFE. BEGINNING…
In the same hour, a new heart begins to beat and…
Dorian
The dinner at David and Flor’s ran late. Every two days, I sit at their table, and then we move to “the library” to talk about Della, of course. They are my therapists. My anchors.
Without even being aware of it, Della brought me closer to my friends. She caused a simultaneous earthquake, tornado and hurricane in my life—tearing down the cold walls I built—but she also brought me peace.
At first, I was pissed off. I felt her leaving was unjust and unfair. But now, after all these dinners and whiskey-soaked talks with David and Flor, I’ve realized something.
Love isn't about right and wrong or fair and unfair. It is about trust. It’s about the freedom to be who you are. It’s about understanding and accepting that the person you love may take another path for a while, but it doesn’t mean they are walking out of your life.
I just hope I’m standing at the end of her path when she decides to come home.
It’s past midnight when I finally leave. I drive aimlessly. I can’t face the penthouse yet. The silence there screams at me.
