Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry,” I said, as I rubbed his back. “Dante’s angry right now, but like Charlie said, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our safety. He’s all about keeping his family safe, and we’re his family, too.” He seemed to find that reassuring.
The next morning, we flew home to Southern California, after promising my relatives we’d visit them soon, and often. Kit and Devon were still in Baltimore, but once they got back, that would be another reason for frequent trips to San Francisco.
I’d suggested flying into San Diego, but Armando wanted to fly to L.A., so I could get my car and pack my stuff. I assumed he wanted me to stay with him because he was still rattled and didn’t want to be alone right now.
We took a cab to my building from the airport. Once we were inside, Arie wandered through the flat, looking at everything curiously. He’d seen it on quite a few video calls, but this was his first time visiting. “This is the least cozy apartment I’ve ever been in,” he muttered. “Somehow, it manages to feel even more impersonal than a hotel room.”
“You’re not wrong.”
When we reached the bedroom, he went straight to the nightstand and exclaimed, “Finally, something in here that isn’t gray and depressing!” He was referring to the framed photo of him and me in red racing suits—a copy of the same picture he had in his office. It was on display beside the stuffed toy eggplant he’d given me the day after I met him.
It was apt that the only colorful and meaningful things in here had to do with Arie, now that I thought about it. My life had been as dull, gray, and empty as this flat before I met him. But he’d changed my world.
This was too much to say right now though, so I pulled a duffle bag from my closet and asked, “How much should I bring, enough for two or three days?”
“Bring everything. You’re done hiding, so you don’t need this place rented in your cousin’s name anymore, right?”
“You’re right, I don’t, and without this flat there’s no reason to keep living in L.A. Can I stay with you until I find someplace to rent in San Diego?”
“Actually, I was thinking you’d move in with me.”
I turned to him and asked, “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’d love that, if you’re sure it’s what you want.”
He slid his hands around my waist and said, “I want to be with you, Tory, all the time. I know my apartment is tiny, but we can make it work. You said you want to paint, so maybe we can rearrange the furniture in the living room to give you enough space to set up an easel.”
I would have suggested renting us a house, but he probably needed the security of his apartment after what he’d been through. It had been his home for a long time, and his neighbors were like family, so I said, “We’ll definitely make it work.”
I lifted him off his feet and kissed him, and when I put him back down, he grinned at me and said, “This is a big step.”
“It is, and it’s going to be great.”
He helped me pack, which didn’t take long. When my luggage was stacked up beside the front door, he asked, “Is that everything?”
“It is. You’re looking at all of my worldly possessions.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “I left a lot behind when I moved to the US, and since then all I’ve bought are a few clothes.”
“Do you have anything from your childhood?”
I unzipped the suitcase and pulled out a book. Then I removed a faded photo from inside the front cover and handed it to him. “This is my most prized possession.” He studied it as I said, “That’s me at about six with my mom and dad. It was taken in our living room. You can see the quilt my mom crocheted, and my dad’s guitar collection is on the wall behind us. One of my favorite memories is of him playing that red, acoustic guitar and singing Elvis Presley songs for my mom and me. It’s actually how I started to learn English.”
“He liked Elvis?”
“My dad loved American rock and roll. I bet he’d know the words to every song on your juke box.”
“That’s awesome. I wish I could have met him.”
“I wish that, too.”
“Would he have thought I was too old for you?”
“All my dad ever wanted was for me to be happy. That’s why I know he would have loved you, Arie.”
I did a final walk-through while he waited by the door. It felt like a chapter of my life was ending—one that had begun the day I threw some stuff in a suitcase and fled from my apartment in London.
When I joined him, he asked, “Are you ready to go?”