She answers on the first ring, “Hey.”
“Hi. So, yes I’m still alive and I’m fine.”
“Oh good. Are you coming out with us for Sunday coffee tomorrow?” She pauses. “What is that sound? Where are you?”
I cringe a little before admitting the truth. “I’m in Los Angeles. Only temporarily. I just had to get away for a few days.”
“Elle, what are you talking about? You just got up and went to LA without a word?” When she puts it like that, it sounds horrible. But that’s what I did, isn’t it?
“Yeah. It’s fine though. I just— I don’t know, it was impulsive, but I’m glad I did it. We can talk about it when I get back.” Am I really committing to going back to New York? “I have to go.”
Worry laces Ravenna’s tone. “Okay, I’m going to trust you that everything's all right. We will talk later. Be safe.”
“I will. Bye.” Hanging up, I make my way back inside to where I left my drink. I’m not dumb enough to finish it, but I might order a new one. Except when I get to my seat, the guy is nowhere to be found. Maybe he got bored and left? It doesn’t matter, I should get out of here anyway.
Returning to my hotel that night, I stand on the balcony and further contemplate my situation. Los Angeles twinkles all around. At night it’s a pretty city. It’s just not the city that’s welcoming to me, but I’m not willing to give up on my dreams just yet.
I spend much of the night looking at places all around the world in Google Maps. So many possibilities, yet none of them feel quite right. To compare, I finally open a tab on my browser to show Manhattan. As soon as the screen fills with iconic images, my heart does a little flip. That sense of homesickness doubles, and I release a groan.
How is this possible? A week ago, I loathed everything about New York City. It made my skin crawl and I couldn’t wait to leave. Now I want to go back? This is so stupid. I absolutely do not want to live in a place that holds that many bad memories for me.
I search for Italy, which seems to be the only other place in the world where I feel at home. Most of my years there I didn’t venture out of Aunt Antonia’s house. I had absolutely no social life, no boyfriend, no real contact with anyone except those who came to visit. Like Maximo on rare occasions.
Then one day my cousin Ginevra showed up and decided she’d had enough of my hermit lifestyle, so we toured around Italy as she revenge-spent her husband’s money. It was the most fun I’d had in years, maybe ever in my life. Every city we visited brimmed with adventure—of course we were heavily guarded,so we didn’t get into too much trouble. But each and every one of those new experiences thrilled me, unlike Los Angeles. This place feels like a dead end. So where do I go from here?
Putting my internal crisis on hold, I decide to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day. I have time to sort through my crap. No rush.
But that night brings the same nightmare as I relive those metal bars, the fear and hopelessness. Only to wake up more disappointed than ever that being three thousand miles away from where that happened hasn’t changed a thing. I’m no more free from my past here than I was in Manhattan. That realization sends me spiraling as I shower and dress in a pair of leggings and a long T-shirt.
Already tired of the room service options, I decide to go in search of a cafe for breakfast. I unlock the door and turn the handle. The door slams open, much heavier today than usual. I yelp and jump back as a man falls inside my room. The back of his head smacks the carpet.
“Ow. Cazzo!”
I’d know that voice anywhere. “Maximo?”
He gazes up at me from where he’s lying on the floor. “Good morning,bella.”
The familiarity of him fills me with relief, overshadowing any sense of danger or panic. My eyes burn and thickness clogs my throat. As much as I hate to admit it, Maximo’s a small piece of home, of everything that’s missing the mark for me in LA.
He’s also a problem.
“Get up.” I kick at him. Instead of fighting me off, he scowls, rolling up to his feet, far too agile for a man his size.
“What are you doing leaning against my door?” I demand, chiding myself for being happy to seehim—of all people.Really, Elena? What’s wrong with you?
“Iwassleeping.”
“Sleeping? In the hallway? I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his already mussed hair. “I was going to knock on your door last night, but I knew you wouldn’t open it if you saw me. So I decided to wait for you to come out instead.” His brows pinch. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep but the past few days have been very, very long.”
I fully take him in. Dark circles under his eyes, rumpled suit, and he hasn’t shaved in a few days.
“How did you find me?” I wrap my arms around my middle, stepping away from him.
His hands drop to his sides, and his gaze scans down my body. “I’ll always find you,cara mia. That’s a promise.”
“Tell me how.” I have a burning need to know and I won’t back down until he tells me the truth.
