Episode 9

CHAPTER 8.

By Isabella.

I had imbibed so much I couldn't keep upright. Stumbling and faltering, I dragged Valentino down with me. Tension filled the air until he cut through it with a gentle kiss. A whirl of sensations I couldn’t decipher swirled through my mind and body. I was drawn to Valentino, more than I cared to admit, yet I couldn’t indulge the impulse to succumb. Ezequiel’s phantom lingered. Within my chest. Etched deep within me. How could I give someone hopes when marked by depression?

I put a stop to the moment and decided it was best to lay down to mitigate the alcohol's effects. Retreating to our separate rooms, I unleashed a hefty sigh. My heart raced. Valentino was attractive. I liked that man too much—his sculpted body, his face, those blue eyes, his smile, blond hair, his voice. Everything about him seemed perfect. Yet I couldn't allow myself a relationship. I had not overcome Ezequiel.

After hours of rumination, sleep finally took me.

"“Following a fabulous weekend with friends, Monday arrived"time for university. I couldn't stop thinking about that boy. His kisses bewitched me, and he monopolized my thoughts. I awaited eagerly to see him again.

"We spent the whole day in classes; my eagerness for them to end grew. I paid no class any mind, immersed in thoughts of him. How could someone so recently met dominate my thoughts?"

"'What's going on with you? You've been distractingly absent all morning,' Julia asked as we left the classroom."

"'What? What are you talking about? Nothing is wrong,' I countered, avoiding discussion of the mysterious club guy."

"Exiting, Mariana turned, beaming"she had spotted him. There he was, leaning on a pristine white Chevrolet Camaro, sporting a white shirt, black ripped jeans, and a green jacket. His tousled hair added to his allure. His gaze locked onto mine as I approached him hesitantly.

"'Hi,' I greeted. 'What brings you here? I’ve not seen you around before.'"

"'How can you ask? I've come for you,' he responded."

-'For me?'

"'Yes, I was at home and remembered I didn’t get your phone number. So, I found out your schedule and... here I am...' he explained."

"'That’s incredible,' I laughed. 'Though that also sounds like stalking.'"

"'Stalking?' he said. 'I thought you’d enjoy the surprise.'"

I smiled.

"'I did. I've been thinking about you,' I admitted shyly."

"'Does that mean yes?…'"

-'Yes to what?'

"'That you're now my girlfriend,' he proclaimed cheerfully."

"'What are you talking about? We barely know each other. I know nothing about you,' I objected."

"'How about we go to the cafe across the street, and I can tell you about myself?...' he suggested."

"'I'd love to,' I exclaimed."

"After bidding my friends goodbye, I joined Ezequiel at the cafe. There, we ordered two ice cream sundaes before I asked:"

-'So, who are you?'

"'Ezequiel Ferrero, at your service,' he said, extending his hand."'The rest, you will learn over time.'

"'Isabella Moretti,' I replied, giggling. 'And yes, I accept.'"

"'Accept what?' he inquired, puzzled."

"'To be your girlfriend.'”"

I awoke in turmoil, the memory of his mesmerizing, grounding smile spiraling through my consciousness once more. Our relationship had sparked quickly and, similarly, had concluded abruptly. Panic began to set in. Tears streamed down my face as uncontrollable as ever. Images of the accident flooded back:

"“Chicago. Night. Rain. Just out from a dinner. A proposal. A joyful announcement. I recalled everything"his anger, then laughter, his joy, his tears. The highway. Ezequiel’s car. Speed. Flips. The explosion.”

Screaming, I clutched my head, reliving it all. The pain resurfaced acutely. I sat beside my bed, seizing the bottle of pills, swallowed two, and wrapped my arms around my legs, wailing.

In that moment, strong arms enveloped me. It had been a horrendous nightmare. He was here. Everything was fine.

"'I had a terrible nightmare,' I gasped. 'I dreamt we had a horrific accident and you... died.'"

"'Calm down, I'm here,' Valentino soothed. 'Nothing will happen.'"

Realizing it wasn’t Ezequiel’s voice startled me, and looking up, I observed my body—my hands, my legs. Lifting my blouse, there was the scar. Reality struck; it had all been true, and the person beside me wasn’t Ezequiel, but Valentino.

"'Are you okay?' he inquired."

"'No. I’m sorry. That nightmare hit hard.'"

Valentino carefully lifted me and assisted me to bed.

"'Rest. We’ll return to Chicago tomorrow. Something's come up that needs me there.'"

"'I’m sorry. I ruined the trip.'"

"'Not at all. I must go back for some business. We’ll return soon, and I’ll show you it all. There’s a lot I want to show you,' he said, smiling. 'Besides, we’ve done what we needed here.'"

Valentino stayed, watching over my slumber. I felt much soothed. The following day, we prepared for our return to Chicago.

By Valentino.

Heartrending screams compelled me to check on her. There, she sat at the bed's edge, hugging her knees, sobbing. Wrapping my arms around her, I sought to console her. Her pain squeezed my heart. She relayed that she dreamt of our accident. As I spoke, she looked up bewildered, examining herself—her hands, her legs, and then her abdomen. Her words laid bare her boyfriend's death. She hadn't moved on, but it wasn't the time to probe. I soothed her to bed and stayed by her side until she fell asleep. I wanted to protect her fragile self from repeating that agony. I glanced at the nightstand and noticed the anxiolytics. I began to understand her. They reminded me of the time I depended on those drugs. The six months following my older brother's inexplicable death and my little sister's suicide.

Francisco Guevara, the lawyer managing my brother's case, called that afternoon. There were inconsistencies in the story, and he might have new information. It was imperative I returned to Chicago to resolve this. We'd depart the next afternoon.

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