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He is close now. I could get a whiff of his scent.Breathe in and out. In and out, Ella.I bite my bottom lip and squeeze my eyes shut. “I need a hug. I need a hug.” I run into a random man’s arms, catching him off-guard and almost sending us to the ground.
“Oof, easy there, sweetheart.” He wraps his hands around me, surrounding me with warmth and blocking away all eyes, whispers, and cameras that follow my way.
The universe brings me the most bizarre experiences with men, and now I found myself as the maid of honor that never got to dance with her partner. Here I am, clinging onto hot stuff that smells like melons and spices. I sense the tension in the air and taste it in my mouth. It tastes like lemon and lime.
I notice that my throat is dry and itchy. I may have caught a virus, or it was getting harder to suppress the tears that threaten to spill. See that girl right there? The one sulking and drenching a stranger’s shirt with tears… that is me, Ella Miller. Experiencing the worst episodes of my life. Grace is finally married. I should be happy today, but why do I feel a slight pang in my chest?
Maybe it’s because I am going to miss spending late nights with her? Or the fact that I had been stupid enough to daydream about Antonio Deluca all day. Let's not forget my mother’s constant calls or my boss's reminders and emails that work resumes on Monday morning. No more holidays for me. So much for having the time of my life.
I hear a woman’s voice saying my name. “Ella?” I turn around to find a woman in her mid-thirties looking at me with disgust. “Ella Miller, the maid of honor? Get your hands off my husband,” she says and pulls me away from him. This is when I quickly examine the man I have been holding. There is a ring on his finger.
Shit! Three shots of tequila, and then three more, and I couldn’t feel my face. Offering numerous apologies, I turn around and find my way into the light. The setting sun welcomes me into the warm streets of Tuscany. I see a cab man smoking by a corner. He winks at me and waves. Then he goes rambling in Italian. I lift my gown and head down the road. Luckily, I find an empty cab, and the driver seems sane enough to take me back to the hotel.
“Where are we heading, princess?” he asks. “The wedding, no good?”
My head drops to the leather seat, and I close my eyes. “Locanda del Paradise,” I whisper, and he drives down the road without another word.
***
I can barely make out the white sheets on the mattress in the darkness. I move to the window and open the blinds, before staggering to the shower room to take a quick bath. The shower helps remove some of the heat and alcohol, but I decide that a bath is still needed. I filled the tub with lavender, milk, and sage and welcome the comfort it could provide.
I can’t help but slap myself for thinking about my childish crush. Antonio must have laughed so hard, seeing me flaunt myself in front of him. He did not make me feel embarrassed like this before. He had simply watched me during the rehearsals. Now when I have no show to offer, he still keeps his eyes on me. Last night, he had looked at me differently. I could feel him undressing me with his eyes.
My belly flutters, and I slap myself again, groaning into the silence. I honestly thought he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I am so naive and crazy to think we would end up together after all this.
The buzzing of my phone is the only motivation to step out of the tub to wrap my towel around my frame. By the time I reach it, it has gone silent so I tip-toe out of the bathroom and draw up the blinds. Greeted by the splash of warm colors on the wall, I feel my pulse slowly return to normal. My giant-sized bed is covered in a red and white striped comforter. It is correctly made with a teddy bear nestling at the headboard. The teddy holds a huge "hug me" sign at the center. Some part of me wants to rip it apart and toss it into the bin. I notice my phonebuzzing again on the nightstand beside the bed, distracting me from such wild thoughts. I hit the answer button when I see it's Grace calling.
"Hey," I say, heading to the double accordion doors of the closet. I return to bed with my luggage in search of underwear.
"Hey!" She yelps, "I have been trying to reach you.” She sounds breathy.
“Yeah, I am at the hotel now,” I say.
“Yes, so I’ve been told. I was calling to see if you could help get the wedding gifts gathered and take them back to the hotel, but mum says she is on it now. She says you left early. Is everything all right?”
I hate myself right now for letting my personal problems attract so much attention and prevent me from performing my duties until the very end of the party. Grace has confided in me for her big day, and I failed her.
“I am sorry, Grace, I…”
“No. It's fine. It err…” she breaks into giggles. “It um…uh…” I hear louder breathing. “Ca-can I call you back later tonight, Ella?”
“Of course,” My imagination filled with Sergio going naughty on her while she speaks on the phone. That image is the last thing I want to remember before I sleep.
“Alright, bye, baby. Speak… “. The line goes dead before she completes her sentence. I drop the phone on the bed and jump in, closing my eyes.
I will just go to sleep thinking about everything I could have enjoyed here in Italy without all the drama in my life right now.
Chapter 8
Antonio and Ella
I end my call with Grace and walk with purpose to the room number she gave me. I’m struggling to think straight. My arrival at the hotel has only one goal, and I am hell-bent on having her as my reason. I placed several calls to be sure that she was in.
Room 13. I knock once and wait.
No one responds. I move closer, reassuring myself that I am not making a mistake, running after a woman who may never even want me.
I knock again, and I sense someone stirring in the room; a loud sigh comes, followed by a thud. I wait, but the doorknob doesn’t move.
