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10

ALESSIA

T he door closes behind me with a click , and the sound feels unnaturally loud in the silence that fills my apartment. I flip the lights on, the warm glow illuminating the familiar lines and curves of my furniture. The soft beige of the sofas, the sleek surfaces of the low coffee table, and the wide, expansive windows that stretch from floor to ceiling—all of it looks the same as it did when I left, but somehow it feels different.

I kick off my heels, the ache in my feet subsiding the moment they meet the cool stone floor. I let my shoes fall to the side, not caring where they land. I’m too tired to care about anything at the moment. Too exhausted to even think straight.

I walk slowly across the room, and my feet hit the plush carpet as I make my way toward the large sectional sofa that sits in the center of the living room. The cushions are soft, and inviting, their pale cream fabric glowing in the dim light. Unclasping my bra, I slip it off from underneath my dress and throw it across my living room. Those things should be burned; whoever invented them clearly hated women. I collapse onto the couch, sinking into the familiar comfort, my body feeling heavy with the weight of the night.

The city sprawls out beyond the windows, the skyline a jagged silhouette against the fading light. The sun has dipped below the horizon, but the afterglow still lingers, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The city lights are starting to flare to life, tiny dots of yellow and white in the distance, as if the stars have fallen from the sky to settle among the buildings.

I stare out at the view, trying to find some sense of calm in the familiar sights, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Romiro. I don’t know how to feel about any of this. The way he looked at me tonight, that mix of anger and something else—something I can’t quite name. I don’t know what to make of what happened at the restaurant; my body heats up, and goosebumps cover my arms just thinking about it. I replay the car ride over in my mind, the tense silence that stretched between us like a taut wire, ready to snap. We crossed a line, and I don’t know if I want to go back from it. I tried to make conversation, tried to bridge the gap, but he was so quiet, so distant, his eyes fixed straight ahead on the road, his hands locked around the steering wheel firmly. Maybe he regrets it? Maybe what happened was a mistake on his part, but for me, it wasn’t.

I don’t know what I expected after the restaurant, after what he did to Frankie, but I didn’t expect … this. I didn’t expect him to shut me out, to wrap himself in a blanket of silence so thick I couldn’t break through.

A soft meow breaks through my thoughts, and I turn to see Mr. Marvin hopping onto the couch beside me. His little gray body curls up against my side, his warm fur a welcome comfort against the chill that seems to have settled in my bones. I reach out, my fingers threading through his soft fur as he purrs loudly, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

“At least you’re not mad at me,” I whisper, scratching behind his ears. He leans into my touch,, and I feel a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. “What do I do, Mr. Marvin? What do I do now?”

He blinks up at me, his green eyes calm and steady, and I let out a sigh, my gaze drifting back to the window. The city is alive with light now, the buildings glowing against the darkening sky, but inside, it feels so quiet, so still.

Too still.

I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I can’t keep wondering, keep questioning, keep feeling this knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. I need to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, where we stand now after everything that happened tonight.

I grab my phone from the coffee table, my thumb hovering over Romiro’s contact details. I hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest before I start typing a message.

Me

Hey…

I think we need to talk about what happened tonight.

About us…

Can we meet up and just… figure out what this means?

I don’t want things to be weird between us.

My fingers move quickly as I send each text—one after the other. And when I stare at the screen, I feel myself cringe at how desperate I look. The seconds tick by, stretching into minutes, and I feel the knot in my chest tighten. What if he doesn’t reply? What if he says he doesn’t want to talk? What if … what if everything is ruined now?

I lean back against the couch, my eyes closing as I take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing thoughts in my head. Mr. Marvin nudges my hand with his nose, and I open my eyes, smiling down at him. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” I murmur, giving him another scratch behind the ears.

The silence stretches on, broken only by the soft hum of the city outside, the distant sound of cars and voices drifting up from the streets below. I feel the weight of the night settling in my bones, exhaustion creeping in, but I can’t relax. I can’t stop thinking about the way Romiro looked at me, or the way he didn’t look at me, the way his fingers wrapped around the wheel, white-knuckled, like he was holding on to something too tightly to let go.

My phone buzzes, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I grab it quickly, my heart racing as I see Romiro’s name on the screen. I open the message, my breath catching in my throat.

Romiro

Yeah, we should talk. Tomorrow? After your shift?

I let out a long breath. A mix of relief and anxiety floods through me. At least he wants to talk. That’s something. That’s a start. I quickly type back,

Tomorrow works. I’ll see you then.

His reply comes almost immediately.

Okay. Goodnight, Alessia.

I stare at his words, my thumb brushing over the screen. Goodnight. I feel a tightness in my chest, a sense of something unresolved, something left hanging in the air between us. I type back,

Goodnight, Romiro.

and hit send, hoping it sounds casual, not desperate.

I set my phone down on the coffee table and lean back into the couch, my eyes drifting to the window again.

My mind drifts off as I think about all the years we’ve been friends, all the times he’s been there for me, the way he knows me better than anyone else. I think about the way my heart races whenever he’s near, the way my skin tingles when he looks at me, the way I feel every time he smiles.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know what he’ll say—or what I’ll say. But I know one thing for sure: I can’t go back to the way things were. Not now. Not after tonight. I’ve crossed a line, and there’s no un-crossing it. Not for me.

Mr. Marvin curls up closer, his little body is warm and comforting against mine, and I let out a slow breath, letting my eyes close as I try to calm my racing thoughts. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but for now, I let myself hope. For now, I let myself dream.

I glance around, feeling a small sense of calm wash over me as I take in the familiar sights—the walls are a soft, warm gray, smooth, and unblemished, and the large abstract painting above the TV adds just the right pop of color—a swirl of deep blues and gold that reminds me of the ocean at sunset. I move toward the windows, my fingers trailing along the edge of the cream sectional as I go, and pause to look out at the view.

I notice a small stack of books on the glass console table by the window, left from my last attempt at a quiet night in. Mostly medical texts and a few novels I’ve been meaning to read. I run a finger over the spines and feel the crisp edge of pages I haven’t yet opened. I sigh and turn away, moving toward the kitchen, which is tucked to the side of the apartment, separated only by a sleek marble countertop.

The kitchen is all clean lines and modern surfaces, the white cabinets almost glowing in the dimming light. The space is spotless, every surface wiped clean, every utensil in its place. I brush my hand over the cool marble of the island, feeling its smoothness beneath my fingertips.

This is my home. The place I come back to after long nights and stressful shifts, the place where I’ve laughed, cried, and lived for years. But tonight, it feels different. The light feels softer, the shadows darker , the silence louder. I let out a deep breath as I sink onto the sofa, pulling a throw blanket around me, and I try to find comfort in the familiar surroundings.