Page 18 of Third Degree

No one was home, but I decided to walk in anyway, really trying to summon that strength inside me.

His house was so different from my cousins’ or even the one I lived in in Chicago. This was modest, quaint, and warm. There were knickknacks everywhere, and it had a warm, welcoming feeling with large furniture. It was clear his late wife had decorated it. Somehow, it felt nice that he hadn’t changed it since she passed.

As I was looking around at the photos on the wall, I heard the front door slam open.

“WHO THE FUCK IS IN HERE?” Elio bellowed, and I turned around to see him standing there with a gun drawn and pointed right at me.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just me.” I threw my hands up instinctively.

“Shit. Gianna.” He lowered his weapon and walked over to where I was frozen. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked at me as if he was checking for bruising.

“It’s okay.” I didn’t tell him that it was very common in my family to have guns out during dinner with your family, so none of this scared me.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, looking around me, standing in the middle of the room.

“Oh. This looks weird.” I just chuckled, and his mouth turned into a smile as he tucked his Glock back into his waistband. “I didn’t see you on the walk, so I creepily decided to come and see if you were okay.”

He took a slow and deliberate step forward, his eyes hooded.

“Were you worried about me, Gianna?” My name sensually rolled off his tongue as he licked his lips and looked down at me.

“N-No,” I stuttered. The air in the room suddenly felt too hot.

I had a confession to make. I had never kissed a boy yet. I had never let a boy touch me. I had never been so close to someone that I was suddenly showing up at their house, looking like the creep I was starting to feel like.

Sensing my anxiety, he pulled away from me, and a rush of oxygen came spewing into my lungs. I took a deep breath in while he grabbed Nutella’s leash.

“Come.” He gestured toward the door. “Let’s walk the other way tonight.”

“You should really lock your doors if you don’t want strangers coming in,” I grumbled as I followed him out, and he just laughed.

“I’ve been told that a few times before.”

We ambled down the path where we turned in the opposite direction from where my cousins’ mansion was.

“You look good tonight. Different,” he murmured.

“Because I’m wearing a dress?” I rolled my eyes sarcastically.

“No. Just different.” His smile was genuine, but I couldn’t help feeling sadness blanket our evening.

“Over here is where the locals live.” He pointed out as we walked past the various houses. Our conversation was fluid, and we spoke about things that were very surface level. I felt a large elephant in the room around the whole situation because I knew we had an expiration date. Whateveruswas, it was nice, but my freedom came at a cost.

Abruptly, Elio stopped in his path and turned to face me.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, his gaze piercing into the depths of my soul.

The weight of my impending departure hung heavy in the air, suffusing every fiber of my being with bittersweet anticipation. It was as if time had conspired against us, hastening the minutes and seconds that remained before our inevitable parting.

“I… I’m leaving on Monday,” I confessed, my voice laced with a tinge of sorrow. The words hung between us, suspended in the stillness of the night.

His eyes widened, mirroring the emotions swirling inside me.

It was a poignant moment, a collision of reality and desire, and I wondered if he could hear the rapid thudding of my heart.

It was as if the world itself held its breath in that fleeting instant. The weight of our unspoken feelings, the unfulfilled promises, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead converged in the space between us.

But instead of wallowing in despair, Elio seized the moment with unyielding determination.

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