Page 56 of Always Meant To Be

Nineteen

Elena – One Week Later

I bitemy bottom lip as I look at the tall glass building where Romeo's main office is.

I never come here, never thought I was welcome, but here I am, trying to, I don't know,make an effort.

For the past week, I know I've been off with him. After he returned with his stitches torn and I chewed him out while re-stitching his wound, I’ve kept my distance, and he's allowed me, knowing I needed it.

My sister tried to kill me….

She tried to kill my baby….

And for a split second, I thought my husband was in on it.

Guilt still fills me, and I know we need to discuss it. I promised him I would try us again, try to trust him, and well, this is me trying.

I hope he doesn't send me packing.

"You need to put one foot in front of the other to walk, El," Aldo says, and I don't need to look at him to know he's smirking.

"Why do I like you again?" I question.

He snorts. "Because I'm like a big brother to you."

I hum. "That explains why you annoy me, then."

This time, he laughs, and I take a deep breath, my eyes going to the building again.

"He misses you, El. Go on in," he encourages, and I nod. With shaky legs, I walk toward the building, heading inside.

People are rushing around, and I see a guard near some barriers. Instead of going to the reception desk, I head his way.

When he notices me, he raises his large hand and says, "Miss, you need to head to the reception desk and sign in."

I clear my throat, wring my fingers together, and whisper, "Aldo told me to come to you. My name's Elena Russo…."

His dark brown eyes widen, and he stands straighter, before clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, but I will have to ask you for ID."

He looks nervous, so I give him a small smile, open my purse, and hand him my driver’s license.

He relaxes when I don't complain, and he rasps, "Sorry, Mrs. Russo. It's just several women try, you know…."

He shrugs, and I laugh a little. "That doesn't surprise me, though I do want to surprise Rome."

He grins and nods. "That we can do. Head on over to the elevator and press number 42."

I smile in thanks and follow his instructions, my eyes looking up at the ceiling, the sky visible from the ground door.

"Wow," I whisper, and the woman behind me snorts. I look her way to see her lip curled.

She looks like a replica of my sister only with ginger hair.

Ignoring her, I walk into the elevator and press the number I was told, and she sneers, "Mr. Russo has requested no guests today."

I raise a brow.

Please tell me this is not his receptionist….

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