Page 128 of The Ruin I Chose

It had been a week.

One whole week since the last text from Marcello came through. Every call I made went straight to voicemail. I was anxious. Jumpy. Every day. Every call, every ring of the doorbell had me searching—holding my breath, hoping it was him.

I read his text over and over, imagining him whispering it to me. My skin remembered the warmth of his breath, even if my arms had forgotten his weight.

“Has he called yet?” my mother asked.

I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head as tears slipped down. I hated how small my voice felt when I said nothing. I looked out at the people walking below—some exercising, some walking their dogs, just going about their evening from my terrace. I stared without intent, holding my teacup tighter and prayed he was okay.

At dinner that night, Kyra spoke.

“I miss Uncle M, mummy.”

Her voice was small, but it cracked something open inside me. I held her hand, rubbing her knuckles.

“Me too, baby.” I kissed her forehead. “Me too.”

I heard pounding on the door.

It was 6 a.m. Who could it be so early? The milkman wouldn’t be here until seven.

My mother opened her bedroom door. “Who’s that?”

“I don’t know. You go back to bed—I’ll see.”

The banging continued.

“Coming,” I shouted.

I rubbed my eyes and opened the door. Santino brushed past me, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” he demanded.

“It’s on silent,” I replied, trying to comprehend what was happening.

He helped himself to some water and motioned for me to sit beside him on the sofa. My mother stood behind us, silent.

“What happened to you?” I asked, looking at the sling on his arm.

“You should see the other guy,” he joked.

But his voice was hoarse. Like he hadn’t laughed in days.

“Has Marcello come with you?” I asked, voice faint.

My heart pounded. A weight settled over me.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “No.”

“Roxy, I need you to listen carefully.”

“No…” I croaked. “No… no…”

I started pacing, clutching my head as tears streamed down my face.

“He promised…”

My breath hitched. A gasp ripped out of me. My chest tightened like a fist around my ribs. I clawed at my throat, trying to breathe, trying to stay upright, trying not to shatter. The room blurred and my thoughts scattered. I couldn’t find the ground.