Chapter Eight
Eight
What have I done?
I asked myself that question over and over during the long plane ride and received no answer. Sure, the voice had gone silent after pushing me to do this impulsive, ridiculous thing. Nerves jumped in my belly as I got closer to my destination in Sciacca. I’d been traveling now for an entire day, taking a plane to Rome, then to Palermo, and hiring a driver to make the trek to Sciacca, where Catena lived.
I’d decided to carve out ten days for the trip. After I returned from Dr. Sariah’s office, I made a detailed list of what I wanted to accomplish while I was in Sicily, including seeking answers to questions about my mother’s past, hitting the sightseeing highlights, and meeting everyone in the family. I hadn’t had any type of vacation in the past five years, preferring to focus on work, and I thought the time away could be the refresh I desperately needed. I could still work with my clients but take a step back from the daily chaos and reset. It was a perfect compromise.
When I called, Catena flipped out with excitement, chattering so fast I could barely listen. She’d insisted I stay in her apartment, but I pushed back, explaining I needed my own space. I’d arranged a Vrbo near the marina so I’d have relaxation and privacy and be close enough to walk to cafés and shops. My grandparents, aunts, and uncles lived in Lucca Sicula, a tiny town in the Agrigento region of Sicily. Since there weren’t many guest homes or hotels there, and I wanted to be closest to my cousin, I’d decided to stay the bulk of the time in Sciacca rather than Lucca. Still, my driver said it was only a half hour drive to Lucca from where I would be staying. I could go back and forth and also poke around some of the other small towns I’d researched.
Of course, I’d immediately looked up how far Taormina was, since the only place I knew in Sicily was from The White Lotus show, but it was about three hours away from where I was staying.
The drive from the airport to my rental gave a new definition to the word horror . I’d experienced Manhattan driving, had been in cabs beeping and cutting lanes and speeding through yellow lights like it was a contest, but driving in Sicily was a whole other level. Instead of slowing down when a pedestrian was crossing the street, my driver sped up, muttering an array of Italian I assumed was curse words, as if disappointed he hadn’t made contact. Lights and stop signs didn’t seem to make any difference. I almost screamed when in a busy intersection, he decided to roar past the red sign that clearly warned him to stop, barely missing an epic crash. He must’ve sensed my distress, because he shot me a big grin, waving his hands in the air and off the steering wheel as he probably explained I shouldn’t worry. I was too scared to pull out Google Translate to find out.
I began to second-guess my plan to rent a car here. I’d be safer paying drivers or relying on public transportation. I’d have to see how things went.
Finally, we arrived at the apartment. I dragged my exhausted, dusty body out of the car, refusing help with my luggage as he pointed up the steep flight of stairs, angling that he’d drag it up for me. I only wanted to catch my breath and be alone for a little bit. My driver happily left with a decent tip and roared away to try to kill some other pedestrians.
The host had been in touch and arranged some food and water to be ready. I stared up at the faded yellow building with white shutters, squinting in the hot sun at the third-floor wrought-iron balcony, then down at my bulging suitcase.
It was a good thing Jason had trained me, because I was about to get a workout.
I dragged my stuff up three flights of stairs, used the code, and pushed my way through the doors.
Then caught my breath.
Oh, it was charming.
Bright floral ceramic tiles welcomed me into the space, where a square table was set with a robin’s-egg blue tablecloth. Window shutters were painted the same blue. The small sitting area had a lemon-colored couch and chair, with a TV and carved wooden coffee table. A curved staircase led up to the second-floor bedroom. As I walked through, I peeked into a bathroom of gorgeous sea blue tiles, with a bidet and nice-size shower. The kitchen had modern appliances and a butcher-block-style island.
The decor made me smile. Cheerful accent colors filled the rooms, in yellows, turquoise, reds, and whites, from the throw pillows to the ceramic bowls and the paintings on the wall. I grabbed a bottle of water and explored. My bedroom was airy and light, with a veranda that held two lounge chairs and a table. I pushed the doors open and stepped outside, stunned at what I saw before me.
Paradise.
The water was right below, in a gorgeous deep blue that made me gasp. Fishing boats of all sizes rocked gently in the marina or glided smoothly out underneath a cloudless stretch of sky. People strolled the narrow streets below, and a vast array of houses in pale pink, mustard yellow, and umber squeezed together in jagged rows, spread out before me like a scenic gift.
I feasted on the panoramic view while the breeze playfully tugged at my hair, cooling the sweat from my skin. Seagulls screeched and dipped in coordinated dances. I drank my water and allowed myself a few moments to rest and just be. The trip here had been fueled by anxiety and doubt. I was used to a million thoughts rumbling through my brain, but at this very moment, there was only silence.
Finally, I went back to the kitchen and grabbed a few things for a quick snack. The peach I bit into was juicy and fresh, and the yogurt I’d requested was creamy and smooth. I palmed a few almonds for some protein, guzzled the rest of my water, and brought my suitcase to the bedroom. After setting up my toiletries and hanging up some of my dresses, I took out my phone and texted Catena.
I’m here! Love the apartment. It’s beautiful and overlooks the marina.
She responded quickly. I’m so excited! Why don’t you rest and I’ll pick you up at six pm? I can take you to the pub to meet my brother.
My stomach clenched. Now that I was here, I realized I had to actually meet these people face-to-face. Since I’d decided to take the trip, I’d been running on adrenaline and impulse. Now I’d be trapped with strangers who were actually related to me, and I had no idea what would happen next.
I swallowed back the tightness in my throat and texted: Can’t wait .
There was no turning back now. I’d need to deal with the unknown.
I put my phone on the dresser, tugged back the covers, and crawled into bed. Immediately, my body gave in to the exhaustion. I’d think about all of it later. Right now, I just needed some rest.
With the veranda doors open and the faint sound of activity from the marina, the soft breeze blowing in, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
—
I fought the urge to wipe my sweaty palms down my sundress and shifted from foot to foot. I’d picked a simple black dress that floated above my knees and paired it with flat strappy sandals. My hair was pinned up and gold hoops adorned my ears. My purse was coveted Chanel, also in black. I wanted to look nice to meet my cousin, but not overdone. I had no idea what to expect, so keeping it in classic black, New York–style chic, was my best bet.
A knock sounded on the door. I drew in a deep breath, opened it, and faced my relative.
The woman standing on the threshold had long, straight dark hair with angled bangs. Large brown eyes with heavy brows peeked beneath the fringe. Full lips curved in a big smile, painted in dark red. Sharp cheekbones and nose dominated her angled face. She was average height, a bit curvy, and dressed in a fashionable silky V-neck blouse tied at the waist and white shorts that showed off her long, tanned legs. Red sandals with a chunky heel completed her fashionable look. I stared, searching for features similar to my mom, my heart pounding loud in my ears.
“Aurora?”
I nodded fiercely. “Catena?” I asked hesitantly, though we both knew who the other was.
“Sì.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, and then she let out a shriek, jumping into my arms.
I almost stumbled back from her enthusiasm, then returned her hug. The delicious scent of her floral perfume drifted to my nostrils. She was laughing and chattering at the same time, and I was struck by the sudden rush of warmth surrounding me, from her voice to her embrace to her open joy at meeting me.
“I can’t believe you are here, cugina !” She pulled back, her face glowing with happiness. “It is almost like a dream come true. I cannot wait to show you around my home and for you to meet my family. No—your family!”
I laughed. I sensed then that Catena was genuine, and even if everything else imploded on this adventure, I’d made a lasting blood connection. “I’m a little overwhelmed,” I admitted. “I’ve never traveled to Europe before.”
She waved a hand in the air, flashing red-painted nails to match her lipstick. “We will take good care of you.” Her gaze flickered around my rental. “This is beautiful, but I know Mamma will want you to stay with her in Lucca. We will meet her on Friday, along with Babba and Nonna. Are you going to rent a car?”
I hesitated, thrown off by her remark. I hoped no one would pressure me to give up my space. I needed privacy. “I can’t drive a stick and I’m a little nervous.”
“In Sciacca, it is better to walk—most roads allow no cars. Theo or I can drive you around to sightsee or to Lucca. Are you hungry? We can eat and have drinks with my brother. I know it was a long trip.”
“That sounds good.”
“Let’s go!” I followed her to a tiny white car that looked like a strong breeze could crush it and climbed in the passenger seat. Catena chattered on, saving me from making conversation, while we shot away from the marina, veered around pedestrians, and maneuvered through endless narrow side streets. Scooters whizzed past us, practically brushing the mirrors. I bumped along, trying not to grasp desperately at the door handle, and reminded myself she was an expert. She would probably not kill anyone.
“I cannot believe you are famous in the US and a real author. No one has met a writer before. I am following you on TikTok and I love your videos. I am inspired after I listen to you! How did you get this job?”
My eyes widened as we barreled through a red light and bumped over a pothole-ridden street. There was no way two cars could fit. Catena glanced at me, not even worried about the road in front of her. It would be rude to remind her she should look straight ahead, right? “Um, thank you. Grazie. But I’m still writing my first book, so I don’t feel like a real author yet. I love helping people accomplish their goals, so I started with videos and trained as a life coach.”
“How do you learn to be a life coach?” she asked curiously.
“There’s a special program where you train and study various coaching techniques. Learn about brain science and motivation and personalities. I read a lot, but first, I practiced on myself. Then I opened up my own business. It took many years for me to grow, so it wasn’t fast or easy. I began a podcast and a publisher messaged me about doing a book because I had a large audience.”
Catena nodded. “ Sì , you work very hard. I see this. I like to do new things for the bar to get new tourists. Maybe you can help!”
“I’d love to help, though I don’t know much about the restaurant industry here.”
“That is why you would be a good person to talk to. Think outside the box, no?”
The idea of giving something to my new cousin gave me a sense of satisfaction. If I made myself useful while I was here, I’d feel better. I was taking up their time and resources, especially if they were driving my ass around. “Absolutely. And you get the family discount. Free.”
We both laughed and then we peeled out onto a side street, where she squeezed between two other miniature cars with barely an inch of space to spare. Holy crap, they should require helmets to drive here.
I got out and took a look around. Bar Sciacca had a colorful ceramic sign on the archway of a door leading into a brick building. Chairs and tables were scattered out on the sidewalk with an array of people drinking and eating. The lyrical hum of Italian chatter filled the air along with delicious scents, from grilled meat to cinnamon and coffee. Bunches of flowers were placed on each of the tables, their vivid blooms adding a cheerful atmosphere. I followed Catena through the door, entering a cooler dimly lit interior that I loved immediately. The place was a cross between an old-fashioned pub, with dark wood furnishings and a giant bar, and a trendy wine bar, with the far facing wall carved into an extensive wine rack filled with bottles. The other wall had a beautiful mural painted on the brick, with colorful wine bottles lining tables with a view of the sea and fishing boats. Mosaics were stamped in different designs edging the ceiling. Music played in the background—was that Frank Sinatra?—and two male bartenders poured drinks, shouting back and forth with the customers in an easy, friendly manner. The vibe was laid-back and comfortable, and I immediately relaxed.
This was no competitive New York bar with women dressed to impress and cutthroat competition to snag a man’s gaze. It didn’t even have that artistic, broody vibe I occasionally got from Cold Spring, where health and creativity were God. I liked that the crowd didn’t seem to be mainly male-centric, and there was a nice mix of old and young.
“This is the family business,” Catena said. Pride etched her voice, but she was staring at me as if waiting for my approval. “It was my aunt and uncle’s, but my cousin went to Roma and didn’t want to run the bar. Theo and I decided to buy it, so it’s now ours. We did a few updates to make it more fun and decided to focus on vino rather than competing with Murphy’s, which is the Irish pub.”
“I love it so much,” I said honestly, reaching out to touch her arm. “I wish I had a bar like this back where I live. It’s a place where everybody knows your name.”
Catena frowned. “Many tourists come here and do not know one another’s names.”
“Sorry, that was just a phrase from an old TV show. I meant to say I feel welcome here.”
She beamed at my words. “I am so happy! Come, let’s meet Theo. He’s been excited to see you.”
Catena grabbed my hand and led me over to the bar, speaking rapidly in Italian to a group of young guys who shouted her name in greeting. She shouted something back, making them laugh, and they moved to allow us space. “Theo! She’s here!”
A guy with sandy blond hair and chocolate brown eyes met my gaze. He was dressed in jeans and a casual black T-shirt. His jaw was clean-shaven, and when he smiled at me, I was struck by how he looked like a male version of Catena. He leaned over the bar and stuck both hands out, palms up. “Aurora, I’m so happy you came. I’m your cousin Teodoro. Everyone calls me Theo.”
He had a slightly serious tone and seemed a bit more formal than his sister. I placed my hands in his and smiled back. “I can’t believe I’m here. It’s nice to meet you. This bar is amazing.”
A glint of pride like Catena’s sparked in his eyes. “ Grazie. What can I get you to drink? I have a plate coming out for you to eat.”
“Red wine? Any kind—you can pick.”
Catena pushed me onto a stool. “The good stuff, Theo! Aurora is going to help us with the bar and give us tips to get more people in. She is very famous in America. She coaches life to people!”
Theo poured a glass of ruby red liquid and slid it over. “I did not know this was a job until I saw your videos. Coaching is big in New York?”
“It’s becoming popular. I think people are more screwed up today.”
They laughed. I sipped my wine, and the rich taste of earth and blackberry coated my tongue. So. Good. I’d forgotten how much I loved the nuances of a good wine, since Jason frowned upon drinking due to calories and sugar content. “Delicious.”
“We get this from a family vineyard in the area. Maybe we can take you there? How long are you staying?” Theo asked.
“Ten days.”
Theo and Catena shared a sad look. “We were hoping you could stay a little longer. Our cousin Magdalena is getting married, and we really want you to be a part of it.”
It was a sweet invitation, but I didn’t belong at such an intimate family function. “Oh, that’s so nice, but I have a ton of work back home. I am looking forward to seeing as many people as possible and doing some touring. From the little I’ve seen, Sciacca is very beautiful.”
“We will make sure you see as much as possible,” Catena said. “We’ll get Quint to cover the bar.”
Theo waved and motioned the other man over. I stared curiously as he slung a dish towel over his shoulder and strode over. He moved with a lean, pantherlike grace, holding my attention. He was about six foot and, like Theo, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. He stopped in front of me, tilting his head as his gaze crashed into mine.
Theo patted him on the back and spoke. “Quint, this is my cousin from New York, Aurora. We found out we were related through one of those genetic tests, and she came to visit.”
A strange breathlessness came over me as I stared into beautiful umber eyes with flecks of green, the odd color urging me to look deeper and linger. His coal black hair was cut on the shorter side, showcasing a face of rough planes and angles. A short beard framed his lips and hugged his jaw, giving him a bit of a sexy lumberjack look. I imagined him in flannels with an ax, then wondered if I was going nuts.
I didn’t read romance novels, dammit. Had nothing against them, but they just weren’t my jam. I’d never described men in my head with such sexy terms, so I was briefly thrown off.
“Aurora, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Quint.”
He put out his hand to shake. His voice was heavily accented but rich and deep. I blinked and put my fingers in his, enjoying the firm grip. I refused to blush or stutter just because this man was drop-dead gorgeous. “Nice to meet you.”
Catena chattered on as we seemed to be caught up in each other’s gaze. “We may need you to cover the place so we can take her sightseeing.”
“Of course.” His lips curved in a smile. I noticed his upper lip was thinly defined, and the lower was plump. “Though there’s not as much excitement around here compared to Palermo.”
“Oh, I have a ton of work to do anyway, so I’m not going to bother anyone to play tour guide.”
“Are you not on vacation?” Quint asked, a touch of playfulness in his tone.
“Aurora is a famous life coach and author,” Catena bragged. “Her work is important.”
I tried not to blush at my cousin’s misinformation, especially under Quint’s interest. God, if only she knew the extent of my failure. But how could I explain that my mom’s death had brought on a personal breakdown? They might be related, but they’d never met my mom or known how bad things had gotten with me. Much easier for them to think I led a charmed, successful life. “It’s really not a big deal,” I managed. “And I’m still writing the book. I don’t have anything published.”
“It is still a worthy accomplishment,” Quint said in perfect English. “I’m glad you are here.”
I lost the battle, feeling my cheeks turn red. Thank goodness I was saved with the arrival of my food. Quint placed it on the bar with a flourish. “We gave you a small taste of everything,” Theo said. “ Buon appetito. ”
I stared down at the generous amount of food spread out on the platter. There was a fried ball of something covered in sauce, a variety of sliced meats, a delicate fish in oil and lemon, pasta with eggplant, and a basket of crusty bread. My goodness, was this a regular meal here? I knew Italians ate a lot, but Mom had respected early on that I preferred to eat light portions and limited carbs. I’d just arrived, though, and I didn’t want to make a fuss, so I just smiled and thanked them.
“The fish is caught fresh every morning,” Catena said. “Sciacca is known for fishing, and it’s how most people here make their living. I can take you to the market one morning if you’d like.”
I loved the idea of farm to table, and there was nothing like eating sustainable food with no preservatives. “Yes, that would be wonderful.” I forked up a piece and nearly groaned. It was perfect—light and flaky with just the right amount of seasoning. Jason’s voice was like a mantra in my head, lecturing about the evil of carbs. I’d just avoid the bread, pick the eggplant from the pasta, and eat the meat. “How long have you both owned the bar?”
“Three years now,” Theo answered. “Mom and Pop were hoping we’d run the pizzeria in Lucca, but we preferred a bar. It worked out, though—our other cousins took over there, so now we all have a business we love.”
I couldn’t imagine having endless cousins and family-run shops to take over. Dad had worked in a bank with crusty financiers and strict schedules. Mom had stayed home with me until I went to college, then transitioned to a part-time job at the local boutique in town. I’d always burned to make my own way, in a nontraditional business, but now I imagined the security of knowing there was a place built from the ground up that was your inheritance. It was a beautiful idea that made my heart suddenly ache and wish I had my mom here.
I ignored the feeling and focused on my plate. The cured meat had the perfect bite of salt, so I nibbled on the end. “Have you always been a bartender, too?” I asked Quint. The flash of amusement made me pause, wondering if I’d sounded judgy. I had no idea how the job market was in Sicily and didn’t want him to think I looked down on the career. “Which is great! Bartending is a difficult skill to learn.”
His lower lip quirked, as if he found my rush of words adorable. I found myself staring at him. How did he make every expression seem sexy? “Theo and Catena allowed me to buy a stake in their business,” he said easily. “I’ve worked in restaurants my whole life, so I’m comfortable here.”
Theo thumped him on the back. “He’s a master at multitasking on a Saturday night and a great chef. Also keeps the women coming back.”
Quint shook his head, but I caught a flash of red on his cheekbones. Ah, he was a player. That would make sense with his ridiculous good looks and running a bar. I refused to wonder about the flicker of disappointment unfurling within me, reminding myself that Jason and I were still together. We just needed to mend some of the loose threads of our relationship and we’d get right back on track.
We chatted comfortably for a while as Quint broke off to serve customers. Each time someone interrupted us, Theo and Catena would enthusiastically introduce me as their newfound cousin, and I’d be enveloped in a welcoming embrace or invited to dinner. It was so different from New York and the cool, independent, distant vibe the place thrummed with. Here, everyone seemed to know one another.
I’d finished my plate and tried not to eye the bread or pasta. I knew the comfort of carbs and the slippery slope Jason had warned me about. I’d tested out the fried ball thing with two bites and almost wept. Crunchy, creamy, with arborio rice and sauce and cheese, it was a dish I’d probably dream about tonight. But definitely not healthy, and it wasn’t like I was exercising or doing weights lately. Someone called over Catena and Theo, and I covered the uneaten portions with the napkin.
On cue, Quint leaned over the bar, catching me in the act. “Don’t like the bread? We bake it fresh.”
I blinked, caught off guard. Something about those glowing eyes staring into mine without apology made my stomach drop in a funny way. “Um, it looks delicious, but I’m full.”
He peeked under the napkin and I tried not to blush. “No pasta? Gluten allergy?”
“No. Just a volatile relationship with carbs.”
He frowned. “Volatile?”
“Like toxic? Bad for you?”
His face brightened. “Yes. Ah, makes you sick.”
I wanted to agree but refused to lie. “No, it makes me fat.” I made a face and patted my hips.
His gaze swept over my body and he frowned in confusion. “But you are beautiful.”
I jerked back slightly. Men didn’t think of me as beautiful, and I was okay with that. Jason called me interesting, strong, and dynamic. My ex-boyfriends had termed me pretty, and I’d never had a problem with it. But the simple statement uttered by Quint rocked me a bit more than I expected. Probably said it to all women. Italians were different from Americans and knew how to compliment.
“Thank you, but not with an extra twenty pounds,” I joked.
I expected him to wave a hand in the air and laugh, but those dark brows slammed together in a deeper frown. “No. You are beautiful any way as long as your body is happy. Eating should be from the soul, not the mind.”
Stunned, I stared at this stranger who’d uttered a haunting truth I’d never given any consideration to. My relationship to my body had been a common one—fraught with doubt, hate, envy, and eventually, acceptance. But sheer love? Viewing food as a joy rather than in the context of weight or health or judgment? It was an alien concept.
A strange awareness hummed between us as his last comment hung in the air, surrounded by noise and laughter and rowdiness, yet a silence filled my insides. It was a calmness I rarely experienced outside my attempts to meditate or brief moments of focused clarity.
Catena and Theo drifted back and jolted me out of my revelation. “Quint, can you check on the kitchen? They’re getting backed up,” Theo said.
Quint nodded at Theo, glancing once more at me, then taking my plate and disappearing through the doors. I let out my breath and shook off the encounter. The last thing I needed was a flirty bartender distracting me, even if he seemed genuine.
I finished my wine, declining a second glass from Theo. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked. “Anything particular you want to see?”
“I’m going to work in the morning, and then I figured I’d explore around town. See the main sights here—the piazza and churches and museum. Chiesa dei Cappa—”
“Cappuccini,” Theo finished. “Catena can take you around tomorrow to sightsee and you can join us for dinner. Some of our other cousins would like to come, if that’s okay?”
I ignored my initial reaction to say no and hide in my room. It was not the reason I came to Sicily. “Sounds great.”
“Are you nervous about meeting everyone?” Catena asked. Her gaze held a serious reflection. “I keep thinking about what happened. We tried to talk to my mom about it, but she got really upset and refused to discuss it. Uncle Agosto got very drunk when he heard and ran out. Everyone was in shock, asking questions that were never answered. I think we all deserve to know the truth of what happened.”
My throat tightened. “I searched everywhere to see if Mom wrote a letter or hid photos—any indication she left an entire family behind. But I didn’t find a thing.”
Theo shook his head. “Makes no sense. Cannot imagine Babba or Nonna cutting their daughter off and keeping it a secret.”
“Or our mom not telling us she had a sister,” Catena added.
I thought of the pain my mom had gone through, losing her family, forced to pretend she was an only child. My cousins spoke of their tight-knit family here, but was it all a facade? No matter what my daughter did wrong, I’d never send her away. I needed to know the whole story so I could make my own decision and bring some peace to my mom, wherever she was now. “Are you sure they really want to see me?” I shifted in my seat with discomfort. “Maybe they want nothing to do with her child if they sent her away.”
“No, Aurora, they all begged for you to come,” Catena said, her voice forceful and loud. “They did not know about you or your mother’s death. They wailed and cried and Nonna went to her room, refusing to come out for two days.”
Theo gave a sigh. “It was very bad. Having you here is important, and we are happy you made your way to us. We are family.”
The word jolted me, and suddenly I was overwhelmed and exhausted. The emotions from the trip, meeting my cousins, and prepping to introduce myself to the rest of the family made me want to crawl under the covers and shut down. I needed some time to get myself together.
“Catena, would it be okay if I went home instead of seeing your place? I’m getting a headache—probably from the plane ride.” I smiled in apology and hoped she wouldn’t get mad.
“Of course! We will have plenty of time together. Let’s go.”
Theo came around to hug me goodbye, and I was enveloped in a flurry of arrivederci s and buona notte s as if leaving old friends. Finally, Catena got me home, promising to see me tomorrow and urging me to get some sleep.
I let myself inside my temporary home. It didn’t take me long to get ready for bed, but I was drawn back to the balcony, gazing out into the night of a place I’d never been, ready to uncover the secrets of my mother’s past.
The stars sparkled from a blue-black sky like jewels spread over the spill of houses dotted on the cliffs. Boats rocked gently in the water below. The air smelled of brine and damp heat and fish, yet it was also the scent of newness and adventure. Loneliness washed over me, even though I was now close to family. I reached for my phone and texted Jason on impulse.
Arrived in Sicily and met my cousins. It’s beautiful here. I miss you.
I waited for his response, but it never came. After all, I was six hours ahead and he was probably in his staff meeting. I didn’t blame him, of course. He was sensible to avoid all distractions even if he knew I’d landed in Sicily today and hadn’t checked on my arrival.
My mind flashed to Quint, and I wondered if he’d pick up in the middle of a meeting to answer his girlfriend, sensing her need to connect.
I attached my phone to the charger, slid into bed, and waited for my exhausted mind to catch up with my body.
I needed to be ready for tomorrow.