Chapter Thirty
Annie
Noon.
Atentative knock pulls my dead-eyed stare from the television. I look at the door like it’s not real. No part of me wants to answer it. I have no energy left after all the tears I cried this morning.
I made such a grave error in judgment, how will I ever forgive myself? How could he, when I can’t even forgive me?
After I woke up this morning, I sobbed in jagged bursts until my brain shut off. It’s like it was protecting me from the pain. I’d be walking into my kitchen, open the refrigerator, and boom. Sobbing again. I’d crumble to the ground and then after awhile, snip. The tears cut off, and I was staring blankly at a dried up crumb on the floor just under the stove. Cry then snip. Cry then snip. Again and again. That’s where I’m at now. Blankly staring at the door, not even knowing my own name, much less what to do with a knocking door.
Another knock.
From the couch I blink at it, trying so hard to understand who it could be. Was I supposed to meet Mr. Donovan today? His guys are working on the patio I think. Wait… it doesn’t make sense he’d be here. Why would he come to my home? I’m not thinking right. But that’s understandable.
Another knock, more loudly this time. More determined. Definitely male.
Could it be Brendan?
I shoot upright, grab the remote and check the time on cable. It’s Brendan’s lunch hour! I fly off the couch, running for the door.
Without looking through the peephole, I swing it open, and say on a gasp, “Christiano!”
“Bella.” His face softens, happy I’m home, the worry vanishing.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I’m so astounded to see him, and so hurting, that I fly into the arms of the man who has always comforted me. He squeezes me tightly and holds me awhile. We look into each other’s faces, soaking in the details. It’s been so long since I’ve seen his face. “You flew all this way! I can’t believe it!”
“How could I not? Look at you. Are you sick? You are still in your pajamas.”
I shake my head. “No. Not really, I guess. God, look at you! I can’t believe you’re here. It’s like you knew I needed…” I stop and push back a long, thick lock of hair off his tanned forehead. “You’ve grown your hair!”
“A little, sí,” he smiles.
He looks like he just walked off a Gucci billboard. “How do you manage to look this handsome after a flight like that?! And how did you get here? Did you take a cab? Why didn’t you call me?”
He laughs and takes my face in his hands. “My little Bella. So many questions. And look at you! How do you look so beautiful in sweat pants and tears?”
“It’s a skill.”
He laughs again, big and free, and pulls me in for another hug, rocking me from side to side, crushing me into his chest. Brendan’s words fly into my heart. He’d said he wished he could hug me like this.
Struggling to remove the memory, I pull away. “Let’s get your suitcase inside. And your coat! You threw it on the floor, and it’s so gorgeous. My floor’s a mess.”
He reaches for the coat, bending at the waist with one swift motion of masculine grace. “It is just a coat.” As he reaches for his brown leather bag and sets it beside my coatrack, he glances around my apartment for the first time. “This is your home.”
“Yep. This is it.” I close the door and watch him hang his coat as he glances to the T.V. and back to me. Guiltily, I see it’s Judge Judy on the screen. I didn’t even know I was watching her, but Christiano doesn’t have a T.V. so what must he be thinking about this nonsense? I run over and turn it off. “I wasn’t really watching it.”
He smiles, walking around, soaking everything in–the furniture, the bay window, the small dining table with an empty vase, the books I brought back with me from Italy that he must recognize. He walks to the poster of Tuscany, gazing at it. “It’s very nice, Annie. Your home.”
“Thank you. Tell me you didn’t get a hotel.”
“I did not get a hotel.”
“Good. You should stay here.” I smile, wringing my hands at the idea of sharing a bed with him.
“I have to ask…” He turns and looks at me from the side.
“Yes?” I’m not sure I can handle this now. I’m pretty sure I can’t.