Lindsay
My head is a mess. My heart is a mess. My soul is a mess.
I’m a complete mess.
The ceiling of my room in the penthouse is so far away and yet it feels like it’s crushing me. I lie in bed facing upwards. I’ve spent a lot of time in this bed in the last few days. Food has been taken care of by room service, and I skipped work for the third day in a row.
My paralegal was shocked. I never take days off, let alone three in a row. But the thought of walking into the office after everything that’s happened, makes me feel sick.
Even the thought of walking out of this room has my heart tightening. I’m experiencing the textbook symptoms of PTSD. Nightmares, flashbacks, hypervigilance, and I’m completely and wholly avoiding my life and everything in it.
Which is why it’s especially irritating when I hear the doorbell of the penthouse chime.
I climb out of bed slowly, wondering who it could be. There’s a security camera that allows me to see who’s on the other side of the door and I sigh heavily when I see the person the monitor displays.
Briefly, I consider not opening the door. But if she’s taken the time to come all the way here when she’s this pregnant, she must really be worried about me. The doorbell rings again and I clench my jaw before opening the door to reveal Valentina.
Her stomach is so big and she’s so beautiful and moves through the world with grace. She’s glowing the way she always does these days. With that aggressive, undeniable pregnancy glow.
The last time I saw her was at the bakery, going over crib sheets. That afternoon feels like it belongs to a different person’s life entirely.
I slept with Matteo Vitale. I got kidnapped. He killed three men in front of me. And now I’m here, standing in a hotel robe, looking at my pregnant best friend like she’s the only solid thing in the room.
Despite everything, she looks radiant. She’s given up buttoning her cream coat. Her dark hair is loose. I suddenly feel very self-conscious in my faded black shirt and shorts. I haven’t taken a shower since yesterday. Valentina takes me in with a small, sad smile on her face.
“Hi, Lin. You look rough,” she says.
“You look amazing,” I mutter, turning around quickly and heading back into the penthouse.
I head toward the living room, hearing her footsteps behind me as she follows.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Your dad,” Valentina replies. I gesture for her to take a seat on the couch and she does, eyes roaming around the penthouse. “He told me you’ve been staying here for a while. This is a nice place. Very bougie. Very you.”
I cross my arms over my chest, my expression closed off.
“What are you doing here, Valentina?”
Her eyes flash with hurt, and it makes me feel guilty. “I’m here because yesterday was the 15th.”
“It slipped my mind completely, I’m sorry.”
We have a long-standing tradition. Ever since we were in college and legally able to drink. We’ve met up on the 15th of every month to hang out, to get drunk, to talk. I completely forgot. I had no idea yesterday was the 15th.
“I must have called you a million times, Lin. I waited for you.”
Guilt slides through me. I’m still standing, turned away from her. She hasn’t noticed the bruise on the side of my head yet. I managed to cover it a little with my hair, but it’s still visible if she looks closely.
“I’m sorry. I lost my phone and haven’t had a chance to replace it. I’ve had some things on my mind,” I mutter.
“You lost your phone and just stayed without it? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
I wish I had an answer for her, but I don’t know what the hell is going on with me. She gets to her feet now too and I feel her warm hands on my arm. She turns to me gently, and her eyes are so warm, so kind that I feel the walls close in on me.
“Lindsay, please talk to me.”
It only takes a second for her eyes to widen. She lifts a hand to my hair and gasps at the bruise. It’s not as bad as it was two days ago. I iced it a little and the swelling has reduced.
“What happened to you?”
“I fell,” I grit out, not even trying hard to sound sincere.
Her eyes narrow. “You need to tell me the truth. I’m trying very hard right now, Lindsay.”
“Well, then don’t,” I snap, shifting out of her grasp. “I’m sorry, Val, I know I’m not being fair to you right now, but I want to be alone today. Is that okay?”
“No,” she says stubbornly. “Just talk to me.”
I rub a hand over my face, feeling my heartbeat quicken. I can feel a panic attack brewing and I need her to leave so I can keep it at bay. I’m currently held together by fraying threads and she’s about to unravel them all.
“I don’t want to talk, Val. Okay?” I shout. “I just want to be alone. You can’t help me. Go back to your new life. To your husband and your new family, and leave me alone. Please.”
“Is that what this is about? My family? The Vitales?” she asks, concerned.
The words are desperate and make me feel hollow inside. My best friend is practically shell shocked.
“Lindsay,” she whispers. “I can help you. Let me help you.”
“No. You mean your husband can help me. The mobster? I don’t want any help from you, Valentina. Not from you and certainly not your husband. I love you Val, but I don’t think I want anything to do with your family.”
“Lin,” she says placing her hand on my arm.
I want to talk to her, but I don’t know what to say. And I don’t want to tell her about everything that happened. She already has her own stuff to deal with and I know it’s not easy knowing her baby is being born into this world. I don’t want to add to it, but also, I need to think.
“I’m going to go, okay? Because you’re clearly very emotional right now,” her voice is kind. So kind and I feel like complete and utter shit. “But I’ll come back and then we’ll talk, okay?”
I don’t say anything. She turns to leave and I realize there’s a question on the tip of my tongue. A question only she can answer.
“Valentina,” I call quietly. She turns immediately. “How do you do it? Love your husband despite knowing who he is and what he’s done? How do you justify it to yourself?”
“I don’t justify it,” she replies with a sad smile. “He brings a lot of light into my life, regardless of the darkness. And he loves me enough that it doesn’t matter. I made my peace with who he is.”
To me it just sounds like she ignores the hard parts, the darkest parts of the man she loves. She keeps them hidden under lock and key and then pretends that all he brings to the table is the light she feels. She found a man beneath a monster and now acts like that’s all there is to him.
It’s na?ve.
I don’t say all this to her, though. If she’s found happiness in it, then I wish her well.
She must take my silence for the dismissal it is because she takes one last look at me before leaving. Once she’s gone, I collapse into the couch as my body racks with sobs.
I know Val knows there’s more to my silence, but she doesn’t push and I’m grateful for it. I do have to tell her everything and I will, but not now.
Later that day when the doorbell rings again, I can’t even summon any more annoyance.
When I check who’s behind the door, I’m fine with letting him in. Because the truth is, I need to get some of this stuff off my chest, and I won’t feel guilty about using him to make myself feel better.
Matteo Vitale walks into the penthouse, scanning every inch like he’s looking for danger. I notice he has a bag in his hand, and it smells like food, which is extremely confusing. He turns to me, finally, cataloging my appearance just like Valentina did.
He opens his mouth, and I cut him off.
“Save it. I know I look like shit,” I state. “Why are you here?”
“I heard you kicked Valentina out earlier today.”
“Yes, and she’s my best friend, so you coming here is pretty bold. What do you think I’m going to do to you?”
“Hopefully just talk,” he says. “I even brought you a peace offering.”
I stare at him blankly.
“Here’s your phone.”
My eyes widen in surprise as he pulls it out of his pocket and hands the device to me. Then he lifts the bag in his hand and shakes it.
“Also, spring rolls. They’re your favorite, right?”
I don’t even question how he knows that. With Matteo Vitale, I’ve learned to stop asking questions.
“I’m on a diet,” I say dryly.
He smirks, “You’re too sexy to lose any weight.”
My eyes roll. “Oh my god, get out!”
I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want him anywhere near me right now. Even worse than the hatred I feel for him is the part of me that wants nothing more than to sink into his arms, into the comfort he provides.
He murdered three men in front of me. The last thing I should feel from him is comfort.
“Unfortunately, I’m not going anywhere. I tried to give you space, that didn’t work.
You’ve locked yourself in your room, hiding.
And that doesn’t work for me. So the two of us are going to stay here together.
We’re going to talk, we’re going to argue.
You’ll say whatever the hell it is that’s on your mind.
And then tomorrow you’re going to go back to work and you’re going to be fine. Alright?”
My eyes narrow. “I’m not having sex with you again, Matteo.”
“Who said anything about sex?” he questions, raising an eyebrow. “Trust me, princess, the next time my dick is inside of you, you’ll be begging for it. Until then, we’re going to eat the spring rolls. You should probably shower first though,” he adds, eyes roaming over me.
I bite back a scream.
“I will call security,” I say through clenched teeth.
“No. You’ll go in that bathroom and shower. Or so help me, Lindsay, I will undress you and bathe you myself. It’ll be a fun experience for all parties involved.”
He’s not joking. I know he’ll do it. And it’s the threat in his eyes that has me moving. It’s all well and good because I can’t physically stand being in the same space as him right now. I head for the bedroom and slam the door behind me for good measure.
It takes about thirty minutes for me to shower and change. When I emerge, Matteo’s made himself comfortable on the couch. He even got plates from the kitchen to serve the spring rolls. I approach the couch and sit as far away from him as possible while grabbing a plate.
“I hate your guts,” I sniff before shoving one into my mouth.
It’s really good. Good enough that my anger melts away for a moment. Matteo’s smiling at me. And it’s a genuine enough smile that I feel my walls start to crumble.
God, what am I going to do?
I can’t ignore the monster. I don’t know how to do what Valentina did. And yet I’m drawn to him all the same.