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We drive down Main Street.
Past Sweet Temptations and Hart & Soul Academy of Dance.
We drive past Belle and Declan’s neighborhood.
We drive past my friends’ homes, past our businesses, and into Sam’s father’s compound.
Is this my future?
Old oak trees line either side of the long driveway. Men are stationed on either side of the closed black wrought iron gate. Sal rolls down his window as we pull to a stop. “Sam sent me. I’ve got Amelia with me.”
The guard lifts a phone to his face as he turns away from us momentarily. Then he nods his head toward Sal and opens the gate.
Sal slowly drives us toward the huge house looming in the distance. “Listen, Amelia, you need to understand that everyone’s going to be on edge tonight.”
Annoyed, I glare at the older man inching slowly down the driveway. “How often do you come into my shop, Sal? Once a week? More?”
He pulls the car to a stop and opens his door, letting the cold air whip in. “What’s your point?”
I get out of the car and shut my door with a little extra emphasis. “In all the time you’ve spent in my shop, have I ever given you the impression that I need to be handled? Do I look like a stupid woman? I may not have known Sam and Bash’s father to be mourning him the way everyone here is, but I know Sam and Bash. I don’t want to be here, but this is where Sam needs me right now. So I’m going to go inside that house, find a bedroom, and stay put. Don’t worry about me. I know everyone has other things to deal with tonight, and trust me, I don’t want to get in the way.”
I storm up to the front door feeling slightly better, thanks to my dramatic exit, until I try to open the massive arching door.
It’s locked.
I should just go home.
Back to my apartment.
Better yet, back to the hospital... to sleep in the chair in Sam’s room.
But that’s not an option. Instead, I wait for Sal to walk up the steps and stand by my side. He pulls his phone out to send a text before the front door opens with Marco standing on the other side. “Hi, Miss Amelia. Do you have anything you need me to take for you?”
I breathe in deeply, trying to keep my calm. “What did I say about the ‘Miss Amelia’ thing, Marco? Please. Just call me Amelia. And no, thank you. I was ordered here without anything from my apartment. So just point me in the direction of a guest room, and I’ll get out of everyone’s hair.”
Marco and Sal have a silent conversation before I’m instructed to follow Marco up the stairs. He walks me down a long hallway before opening the last door. “I was told you were to sleep in here...” Marco pauses, then forces himself to say, “Amelia,” without adding the “Miss” to it.
When I step through the door, I’m struck by the fact that this is most likely Sam’s room. Or at least, it was Sam’s room when he was younger. A picture of a tween-age Sam and a smiling woman I’m guessing is his mother sits on his dresser. I know he doesn’t live here now, but this room has been lived in. The furniture is a beautiful but worn rich wood. A king-sized bed covered in a black and grey comforter sits off to the right with a sitting area and a fireplace off to the left. Wow. He was a kid, and his room was the size of my apartment. I turn to thank Marco, but he hasn’t set foot in the room and instead is staying on the other side of the door.
“Thank you, Marco. Has anyone checked on Nonna?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks anywhere but at me. “Nonna’s sleeping. She knows something’s going on but doesn’t know what. I’m supposed to make sure you know to make yourself comfortable. Don’t feel like you’re stuck in this room. You have the run of the house. Just stay away from the office. Nick just left, but he should be back tomorrow. I’ll be downstairs all night if you need anything.” He looks around the room one more time, then shuts the door.
With all my adrenaline slowly seeping out of my body, I curl up on the bed, disappointed that Sam’s scent doesn’t linger on the pillows, and text Lyla that I won’t be at the shop tomorrow.
Once that’s done, I lie in bed, thinking about the events of the weekend and wonder how I went from being so angry with Sam Friday night to sleeping in his childhood bed on Sunday.
And how I’m ever going to sleep without him again.
