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Then he walked to the living room and grabbed his coat. For the first time, she looked around her apartment and noticed several things were amiss.
“When did you get the key from Mrs. Pasquet?” she asked, when she noticed the throw blanket on the back of her couch was balled up in one corner of the cushions, rather than folded and laying over the back.
Sam sighed. “Yesterday.”
Gianna narrowed her eyes. She was so angry, she couldn’t find the ability to speak. Every part of her felt poised to explode. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“I didn’t mean to…” Sam realized he was on shaky ground. “I was sitting on the couch, waiting for you. It got late and I fell asleep.”
“You had no right.” There were so many furious words piling up in her head, she couldn’t get them out. “Why didn’t you leave this morning?”
“I did. But I saw on your calendar that you were coming back from your trip today, so…”
That was when she recalled the dinner in the oven. “You went to the grocery store and came back?!”
He didn’t bother answering. He clearly didn’t want to. He knew every word was only digging his grave deeper.
The fucker had looked at her calendar.
“Get out!” she yelled. “Get the fuck out and don’t ever come back here.”
Sam grabbed his stuff and quickly walked to the door. She followed him, intent on slamming it behind him and locking it. He turned to look at her, standing just in the threshold.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”
She scowled. “It’s worth nothing.”
Sam left, but she didn’t slam the door. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she closed it gently, threw the dead bolt, then walked to the couch and picked up the blanket, her hands trembling in anger.
“Motherfucker,” she cursed as she folded the throw and put it in its normal place over the back of the couch.
She dragged her suitcase to the washing machine, threw a load in, then grabbed the vacuum. She felt violated. He’d slept in her apartment.
Two hours later, the entire apartment was clean, sparkling. Rather than dump the lasagna, she let it finish baking, then took it down to the two homeless men who slept at the end of her block.
“Just in time,” she murmured as the oven timer went off. Her frozen pizza was ready.
She placed a couple of pieces on a plate and carried them to the living room, just as her cellphone rang.
She checked the caller ID, praying it wasn’t Sam, and hoping it was Elio.
It was neither.
She answered. “Hey.”
“You back?” Liza asked.
“Yep. Home again, home again, jiggety jig,” she said, repeating the silly little saying Grandma had always recited whenever they’d been away from home for a few days.
“How was it? Clear out all the cobwebs? Ready to start the next big adventure?” Liza asked.
“The trip was great, exactly what I needed. That cabin is absolutely incredible. Heaven on earth.”
Right, Gianna thought, it was the place, and not the company, that made her time away so perfect.
“Told you so. And your Sam issues?” Liza asked.
“Over. So fucking over.” Gianna spent the next few minutes telling her best friend what she’d returned home to, as Liza raged and fumed on her behalf.
