Page 13 of Loss and Damages
I’m empty because once again, Leo had it all.
Chapter Six
Jemma
I close the gallery an hour early. I couldn’t help anyone, not with the way Dominic Milano left me. My heart shredded, my nerves frayed.
I kept my cool while he stood in my shop, the painted teacup looking ridiculously small in his huge palm. Like he could close his hand into a fist and crush the porcelain into little bits and pieces with no effort at all.
Dangerous, his dark hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, whiskers covering a strong-as-steel jaw. Bloodshot eyes. I’d never say so, but his skin reeked of alcohol. He’d gotten drunk and his body hadn’t recovered.
Leo’s funeral took place yesterday at the biggest Catholic church in St. Charlotte. I rarely watch the news, but I let the TV play while I made dinner. I recognized Dominic as a pallbearer along with five others who had similar coloring. All the Milanos boast dark, shining hair, olive skin, and eyes so deep brown they look black.
After cashing out my register, I listlessly sort through my stock. I have a few things I can display in place of the tea setDominic bought, but I’m not in the mood to decide which pieces to put out. My best work came from the days Leo would sit with me and experiment with color for his own paintings and chat about life.
I loved those afternoons, when I could get lost in his words and the paint. I’d have plates and cups and vases and washing basins and pitchers done before I knew it. Painting isn’t a chore, I love it and I love that my grandma passed down her patience and talent to me, but being a creative can be lonely and Leo took a lot of that away.
I lock up and fix a light dinner consisting of a ham and Swiss cheese sandwich and potato salad that I eat while sitting on the porch, the breeze ruffling my hair and the sun shining in my eyes. The gallery blocks some of my view of the lake, but I don’t mind. I could sit on the gallery’s porch if I wanted a front row seat, but I like my garden and sitting near the firepit in the evenings. Leo used to love that, but I was hesitant to tell Dominic too much about his brother’s time here. It unnerved me he kept asking if I was pregnant, and he looked disappointed when I assured him I wasn’t. I understand a baby would have been Leo’s legacy, but it’s not a burden I would have wanted to carry. I don’t trust the Milanos, and I didn’t believe Dominic when he said he wouldn’t pursue custody. Of course he would, and if he wouldn’t have, his mother and father would have. They wouldn’t have let a no-name girl raise their grandbaby.
Not the all-powerful Milano family who always gets what they want.
The thought of him standing in my shop still sends a shiver down my back. Dominic’s sexy as hell. He could be penniless and that wouldn’t take away from his mesmerizing allure. It isn’t any wonder he hasn’t settled down, not when he could have any woman on the planet. I pity the woman he falls in love with.
There won’t be anything left of her.
Gloria rings her bell as she bumps along the path to my cottage. “Hello, hello!” she calls, waving, her little dog sitting in the basket as usual.
I wave, a piece of crust between my fingers. At least I’ve already eaten and won’t have to invite her to stay for dinner.
“Can you spare a bowl of water for Coco? It’s warm out here today,” she asks, parking her bike and lifting Coco out of the basket.
“Of course. Do you want anything?” I ask out of politeness. Now that Leo’s gone, my customers and Gloria are all I have unless I drive into the city, something I don’t often do. I’m content in Hollow Lake with my gallery, the coffee from the café, and the meagre grocery selection in the little market.
“I wouldn’t turn down a glass of wine,” she says, settling in the chair next to mine.
“Sure. I’ll be right back.”
Inside, I pour us both glasses of a local wine I buy in town, and out of the goodness of my heart, I cut slices of the cheesecake I made last night in an attempt to keep myself from crying. It didn’t work.
“Thank you, dear.” Her eyes light up when she sees the cheesecake and she all but rips it out of my hands. I set our wineglasses on the narrow table between our chairs and go back for Coco’s water bowl.
Now that my hospitality has been given and received, I sit in my chair, put my feet up on the railing, and breathe deeply. I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that Leo will never again park his Aston Martin in my driveway and lope across the grass to my cottage, a big smile on his face and news to share.
I sip my wine.
I was able to say goodbye and if I wouldn’t have had that, there’s no way I would be this calm and accepting. No, not accepting. Resigned. Though, it’s only been a couple of days.Maybe the shock hasn’t hit yet. That would be a more likely explanation, and I gulp my wine in preparation for what’s coming.
Coco lays in the sun.
Crickets buzz.
Gloria is as quiet as she can be, her mouth full of cheesecake.
It’s pleasant.
It would be more pleasant if she were my age and not my mother’s. I need friends, and friends who live in Hollow Lake, not the city. Tara and I are close. She’s the closest thing I have to a best friend, but she was Jeremy’s girlfriend, then wife, first, and she’ll always put Maya before anything I would ever need.
It’s tough to meet people. When I was growing up, I gave all my time to Grandma Darcie and I wouldn’t have the business I have now if I hadn’t. I should try harder, but thinking about it makes my head hurt.
