Page 77 of Of Grief And Gratitude

I chuckled as I returned to my room and stripped off my clothes, not bothering to start a fire because the house was warm enough. My muscles ached from sitting in the car all day, and I stretched out under the covers, letting exhaustion pull me under.

It wasn’t long before the familiar nightmares started. I was standing on a Chicago city street in front of the bakery, cars exploding all around me. Flames climbed up buildings, and shrapnel flew through the air as I ducked behind torched shells of vehicles, searching for my mother and siblings. I screamed their names and listened as they called mine. I had to make it through the thick black smoke before something else blew up.

“Romeo!”

My eyes snapped open, and I jolted upright, covered in sweat and panting hard. Riona stood in a white t-shirt, silhouetted by the moonlight. “S-sorry. Nightmare.”

“Yeah. You sounded upset.” She held out a bottle of water she must have found in the kitchen, and I took it, finishing the whole thing in several deep gulps. How long had she been awake and listening to me? I should have had a few shots before bed. It might have saved her the rude awakening and me the humiliation.

Setting the empty water bottle on the nightstand, I propped myself against the headboard. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” Riona walked around the bed and climbed under the covers, fluffing the pillow before laying down and holding her hand out. “Come here.”

I was too tired to argue with her or play the tough guy. Every part of me wanted to be in her presence, however possible. I snuggled up against her and inhaled her scent, letting her steady breaths lull me back into a dreamless night’s sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I was going to strangle Romeo in his sleep.

Two days of having to put up with his constant pestering were enough to make me feel the start of cabin fever. No, I didn’t want to go for a hike. No, I didn’t want to explore the area. I was perfectly happy shooting pool in the game room and taking leisurely naps in the afternoon. Pair that with Italian cooking in the evening, and I was set.

Each night I went to bed in my room, and each night I ended up in Romeo’s bed, comforting him after his nightmares. I wondered if unwanted dreams had visited him since his mother’s death. It would explain his need for alcohol every evening. He was self-medicating into oblivion so he wouldn’t have to face the false reality of the nightmares.

I couldn’t blame him. I might have done the same when my dad died had I been of legal drinking age. Occasionally I found my mother in the kitchen sipping a glass of whiskey as she looked at my father’s photo long after I’d gone to bed. Romeo didn’t stare at a picture. The dead woman appeared in his sleep.

I could be a good listener and give advice, but I couldn’t go through the stages of grief for Romeo. He had to work through his demons on his own. I could hold him and offer comfort, though.

It was after lunchtime, and I was fucking starving. Romeo made egg white omelets for breakfast. With spinach and sausage. It was torture to choke down every bite, and I’d been hungry an hour later. After I’d turned down his invitation to join him, he’d gone off on a hike through the surrounding woods. I was content to stay in the cabin and watch nature from afar.

The kitchen was fully stocked, so I pulled chicken and salad greens from the fridge and got to work making something healthy and satisfying for my tastebuds. Antonella had kept a wide variety of spices, though many were for use in Italian food. I found some Moroccan seasonings in the back and coated the cubed chicken in oil and flavor before tossing it into a hot pan. The scent wafted through the air as I prepared the salad, throwing in some cucumber and olives and making a quick vinaigrette dressing.

As I was portioning the salad and chicken into two bowls, the front door flew open, startling me and revealing a sweat-coated, smiling Romeo.

He breathed deeply as he kicked his shoes off his jacket by the door. The man had the audacity to wear grey joggers and a white t-shirt that showed his substantial bulk. “It smells amazing in here!”

“I was hungry,” I said, an edge to my voice. I’d tried to tell him one egg white wasn’t enough.

“If I’d known you could cook like this; I would have had you making dinner.” Romeo jogged to the kitchen and looked over my shoulder to see what I had prepared. The scent of fresh air and forest clung to his clothing. “I’m going to grab a quick shower; then I’ll join you.”

“I’ll give you five minutes. I want to eat while the chicken is hot,” I called after him as he ran upstairs to clean up.

I paced the kitchen, then set our bowls on the dining table. By the time I’d given in and stabbed a bite of chicken, Romeo’s bare feet padded across the floor as he approached, swiping an olive from my salad as he passed and took his seat.

“Hey!” I slapped the olive out of his hand and caught it before it rolled off the table, popping it in my mouth and hunching protectively over my food.

“Wow, I guess you were serious about the egg whites,” he teased, picking up his fork and spearing a piece of chicken and a generous bite of salad.

I followed suit, swallowing before replying, “I need real food. I don’t care about being toned or building muscle or whatever gym Adonises like you do.”

“So, you think I’m a Greek god, hm?” He waggled his eyebrows at me and did a little dance, lifting his shirt to reveal his cut abs. “Good to know you appreciate it.”

“I mean, it’s pretty enough.” I shrugged and made him wait for more while I devoured the perfectly cooked chicken. “Not really soft enough to use as a pillow.”

“Nah.” He shook his head and pointed his fork at me. “You’re the one with the perfectly plump, soft pillows for my head. In fact, I think we should take a nap after lunch, and you can see just how fast I can fall asleep on those gorgeous tits.”

As much as he probably meant the suggestive words as flattery, I didn’t love being reduced to body parts. “Sorry, I’m not tired.”

“Maybe I’ll have to wear you out.” When I didn’t answer, he fell silent as he finished his salad, then leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach, assessing me. “So, what do you hope to do with your current job qualifications?”

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