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Fuck.
That was the lamest farewell in history.
Elio scowled, though it was one of those blink-and-you-missed-it looks. His expression cleared quickly. “Goodbye, Freckles.”
He released her and she missed his touch in an instant. Then, he walked to his truck, waiting until she got in her car and turned it around in the driveway before starting his own vehicle.
True to his word, he followed her down the winding roads until they hit the highway. He honked the horn, and she returned his wave, watching him in the rearview mirror. Then, he turned left as she turned right.
And that was that.
What a week. Despite the sadness of leaving him, Gianna was surprised to realize the stronger emotion right now was happiness.
The loneliness that had lingered for too long seemed to be gone. She hoped for good.
After what felt like a lifetime of Gianna wandering around in shadowed rooms, Elio had turned on the lights, and she vowed to herself that she was never going back into the dark.
Turning on the radio, she shuffled through the stations until she found Neil Diamond, singing along to “Sweet Caroline” loudly and off-key, as she grinned like a fool.
* * *
It was late afternoon when Gianna dragged her suitcase to the fourth floor of her apartment building. The damn elevator was on the fritz again. The trip from the Poconos to Philadelphia shouldn’t have taken more than a couple of hours, but she’d hit traffic, due to the fact the roads were still slick. Plus, she’d treated herself to a long lunch at a restaurant Liza had suggested, and then, she’d lost a couple more hours wandering around an indoor flea market.
She’d skipped the grocery store upon pulling into town, deciding to put it off until tomorrow. All she wanted to do tonight was unpack, start some laundry, and veg in front of the television. She planned to throw the frozen pepperoni pizza in her freezer in the oven for dinner.
Unlocking the door to her apartment, she’d only taken a few steps inside before getting the sense that she wasn’t alone.
She started to back toward the hall, reaching for her phone to call 9-1-1, when Sam stepped out of her kitchen.
“I thought I heard the door open,” he said.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, having enough sense to feel guilty for being in her apartment without permission.
Then she changed her question. “How did you get in? You don’t have a key anymore.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Mrs. Pasquet.”
Gianna glanced over her shoulder at her neighbor’s closed door. “She let you in here?”
“She has the spare key.”
“And you asked for it?” She couldn’t keep from raising her voice, her ire growing more with each passing second.
“No, no,” Sam quickly replied, waving his hands as if to erase that thought from her mind. “I was waiting for you, out in the hallway. I’d been there about an hour when Mrs. Pasquet opened the door and saw me. We chatted for a few minutes.”
Mrs. Pasquet had adored Sam, and in some ways, it felt like her elderly neighbor had taken their break-up harder than Gianna had, always asking her if she’d seen Sam lately.
“I told her I was hoping to talk to you. She told me you’d gone on vacation, but she seemed confused about when you were getting home.”
Gianna had told Mrs. Pasquet she’d be back on Saturday, but her neighbor was getting more and more forgetful, something that had been worrying Gianna lately.
Which made the fact that Sam took advantage of the beloved woman even more infuriating.
“So you somehow convinced my ninety-two-year-old neighbor to give you the spare key?”
Sam shook his head. “She offered it. Said she didn’t think you’d mind if I waited for you inside the apartment rather than hanging out in the hallway.”
