I follow her finger to the entry system and the paper rectangle that readsClub di Giulietta. It prompts a sharp intake of breath, both of them turning towards me at the sound.
‘Care to do the honours?’ Paige asks, beaming back at me.
I start to raise my hand and feel all my hopes and expectations pool at the tip of my now burning finger. It shakes a little as I lift it and I feel a wave of shame at the drama of it all, but I cannot help it – this is everything I need to feel better about myself. Behind these walls, there are letters from people all over the world expressing their worries and concerns when it comes to love. Their problems are likely bigger than mine, more real; a stark reminder that the world is bigger than just me and my stupid crush. I need this like water. I need to hold problems in my hand and help them like I can’t help myself.
I ring the doorbell and we wait.
A minute passes. Silence.
Another minute. Paige lifts her finger and rings a second time.
‘Maybe they’re all too busy writing,’ she says hopefully.
Two more minutes. I press again. Sara picks up her phone and starts typing.
‘Did you email in advance? The website says you have to email,’ she says.
My heart plunges through my chest.
‘It does?’ I ask shakily.
Sara tries to mask her disappointed sigh but it rings too clearly, echoing in the silence as we stand at the door.
‘I’m sure it’s fine; we’ll just ask if they have room to squeeze us in, and if they don’t we’ll book a slot for tomorrow. We still have one more day!’ Paige says reassuringly.
‘I don’t think that’s going to work...’ Sara is reading her phone screen once more. ‘I think they’re closed.’
‘What do you mean they’re closed? It’s the middle of the day!’ Paige says. ‘Okay, that’s fine – it’s fine. We’ll just have to come back when they’re not.’
‘Closed for renovations,’ Sara sighs. ‘It’s on their Instagram – they’re closed for the next few weeks and not opening until August. I’m sorry, Squeak.’
Her hand comes to my shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze of support, but I feel nothing. I am nothing as I stand in my place. A veil falls over my eyes and all at once, my entire world shatters.
I don’t know when I started crying or for how long, or how loud I am as I screech in the street. I’m just a shaking, howling vessel of pain in a strapless top and a three-tiered skirt. A hand flies to my back, guiding me to the floor as my knees give way and buckle beneath me. My whole being trembles, gasps and screams out for air. I can’t do this any more. I can’t pretend to be okay.
‘It’s all right, Am. It’s going to be okay.’
I hear Sara whisper as she cradles me in her arms. I try to focus through the tears for a moment, make out remnants of her terribly worried face, but it’s quickly washed away with new water as I sob uncontrollably, and she pulls me in tighter. A hand gently brushes my braids out of the way so I don’t ruin themwhen they’ve barely had time to breathe, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything right now. I can’t bring myself to care again if it means ending up like this.
‘Paige, call a taxi. We’ll all go back to the hotel, you can get into bed, and we’ll get room service and watch movies. That sound good?’ Sara asks softly.
I can’t stop crying, my breath picking up pace as my chest starts to tighten in sheer overwhelm. I cannot believe this.
‘It’s closed,’ I manage to say. ‘It’s closed and I’ll never get to write my letter, and I’ll never feel better because everything’s somessed up.’
It’s all my fault. I should have checked their page properly, but I was too busy trying to move forward with my plans sans-Noah and act like nothing had changed. But everything’s changed. Everything’s changed so much that I can’t even think his name without feeling my heart being ripped from my chest.
‘What’s messed up, Am? What’s happening?’ Paige asks cautiously. Her hand moves to my forehead, stroking it softly.
‘Everything!’I flail my arms in time with my broken scream. ‘I can’tdothis. I can’t keep seeing people when I know they’re not him. I’ll just be lying and wasting everyone’s time like the horrible person I am. I’ve already been doing it for so many months and I’mbroke. I’mso broke. 50K seemed like loads, but there are taxes and instalments and hotels and food and trains to pay for, but then late invoices...’
My shallow breaths pick up some more, taking the rest of my words with them as I devolve into shivers and pants. I’ve ruined everything. I feel a hand against my skin. It’s Sara’s, armed with a tissue as she gently dabs at my soaked, salty face.
‘I can give you money,’ she says softly.
I shake my head as my breaths start to calm. ‘You don’t need to. This ismytrip andmyfucked-up finances.’
‘And you’remysister, who I refuse to let starve. Consider the money transferred,’ she says, whipping out her phone. ‘Now, who is him... Noah?’
