I don’t realize I’m crying until teardrops splash against the windowsill.
“I don’t know how,” I rasp, my throat tightening to the point it becomes hard to breathe.
My children are the only reason I’m alive. When Ryder died, my soul died with him. Every fucking day is a struggle without him. How can I truly learn to live again when my heart stopped beating the moment my husband’s did?
“Fallon is there in Venice at the same time you are. I don’t think it’s a coincidence. This is fate or destiny or whatever the hell they call it these days knocking on your door. Don’t ignore it or run away from it. Go to dinner. Get drunk. Laugh. Have some fucking fun.”
“Iamhaving fun. Italy is a beautiful country.”
“Not the kind of fun I’m talking about,” she replies.
Yeah, I’m not going there.
“I’m officially shutting down the topic. See you when I get back.”
I fly home tomorrow. I’ve enjoyed my trip, but I miss my kids.
“If he offers to fly you in his jet, you better damn well say yes.”
“Love you, Mer,” I say before disconnecting.
I toss my phone onto the bed and collapse on top of the goose-down duvet, only to sit back up when there’s a knock on my hotel room door.
“Room service,” a woman says with a heavy Italian accent.
Padding to the door, I crack it open. A pretty, raven-haired girl smiles at me.
“Buonasera, Mrs. Cutton,” she says in a mix of Italian and English and pushes a rolling tray table into my room.
It only has one thing on it. An enormous mug of what looks like hot chocolate with creamy foam and chocolate drizzle dripping down the sides.
“I’m sorry. You must have the wrong room. I didn’t order anything.”
She hands me a handwritten note and leaves without another word.
Confused, I read it and burst out laughing.
Saw they made chocolate caramel lattes in the bar across from the hotel.
– Fallon
Memories from our time in New York City come barreling back.
“All right, Fallon Parker Montgomery. I’m womaning the fuck up.”
Taking my latte with me, I head into the bathroom to get ready for dinner.
Chapter Six
ELIZABETH
Enjoy the Journey
It takesme less than a half hour to get ready, leaving me with too much empty time to be alone with my chaotic thoughts before Fallon picks me up for dinner.
Slipping on my canvas flats, I look at my reflection in the standing mirror. The blue wrap dress falls just below my knees, a single knot tied in the sash around my waist. It’s simple, nothing fancy. I hope I’m not underdressed for wherever he’s taking me.
Instead of spending the extra time left pacing the floor of my hotel room, I decide to head down to the lobby where they have a piano tucked into one of the alcoves opposite the reception desk. It’s an old Steingraeber & Söhne, and I’ve been dying to play it ever since I arrived.
