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“That will be fine. Thank you.”
“And we will let Mr. Moretti know his driver is no longer needed.”
He lifts the phone behind the marble counter and a moment later, a black SUV pulls up behind Alessandro’s car.
“The driver’s name is Steven. He’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”
“Thank you.”
I stroll outside, going to the second vehicle. Neil stands next to Alessandro’s car with the back door open. Ignoring him, I go to the SUV, climbing into the back.
When Steven is behind the wheel, he asks, “Where would you like to go, Ms. Bass?”
“To a grocery store. I don’t care which one.”
“Will do. Will you need help carrying your bags?”
“I think I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll give you my card just in case.”
Ten minutes later, we pull up in front of a grocery store and I exit the SUV with Steven’s card in my pocket. I’m not surprised to find that Alessandro’s man followed us in his car, his phone pressed to his ear. I can only imagine what he’s saying to his boss, which means I need to get in and get out. I’m really only here for one thing, and the last thing I want is for Alessandro to show up and see what I’m buying.
I’ve put this off long enough but now I need to know…
Inside, I grab a shopping basket and ask a sale’s associate where the pharmacy is. She points me in the right direction, and I hurry to the aisle feeling a sense of dread when I see several options. Who knew there were so many choices? I settle on one that seems straightforward and then rush to another aisle, grabbing random items. By the time I get to the checkout line, my basket is full, but if someone asked me to name an item other than the one I came for, I don’t think I could do it.
“Would you like help carrying out your bags, ma’am?”
“No, thank you.”
Outside, the SUV is waiting, and I slide inside. Alessandro’s car is still there, too, and Neil lifts his phone to his ear, likely tattling on me.
Steven asks, “Back home, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
He nods, taking off. I’m not surprised when my phone buzzes.
Alessandro Moretti
Why did you get into a car that I have not vetted?
Indignation courses through me. He hasn’t reached out once since I left! And to reach out because of this? My fingers fly across the screen.
First, I don’t owe you an explanation for why I do ANYTHING.
Second, your driver is rude and refused to take me to the grocery store.
I have a delivery service set up for you, Isa. There’s no need for you to go to the store.
How do you know I didn’t run out of something? Maybe I was baking and needed sugar. Did you think of that?
Third, I’m an adult. I don’t need you to tell me where I can go. I agreed to stay in a house that you vetted because I knew it would make you feel better. In my opinion, I’ve done more than enough.
I miss you.
Those three words stun me. I type out several replies before deleting all of them. It won’t do any good to tell him I miss him. That I wish we could work this out. That I might be pregnant and being away from him is killing me. So, I’ll say nothing instead.
