one
I tried to avoid thinking about any one subject for too long. I let my brain jump from topic to topic, hoping that the constant stimulation would keep everything in some distant place. I couldn’t think about Michael, Genovese, and the last few weeks… the things that had happened. My only chance at sanity was pushing them as far away as possible.
Once I made it to the city I checked myself into one of the more moderate hotels, assuming that three nights would be long enough for me to find an apartment. After parking his SUV in the lot out back I hailed a cab to the nearest used car dealer. I had no intention of living my life in excess and planned to get it back to normal as soon as possible.
The dealer's eyes lit up as I easily picked a 2009 royal blue Toyota Camry and handed my car over. Within half an hour I was leaving the dealer, with a promise to come back for my permanent plates tomorrow.
I made my way back to the hotel and headed to the lobby, deciding I needed to work on a job and a place to live. The clerk was able to give me a renter's guide, and a recent newspaper. I spent the better part of the day making phone calls, and was surprised with my success.
With the money Michael had given me, I was able to rent a beautiful loft on the edge of downtown. It was small, but open, with lots of windows. The loft was surrounded by restaurants, fancier bars, and lounges—lots of places I could try to find a job. The building manager promised to have my place ready for move-in by 8am the next day.
It was 7pm, and I was finally letting the exhaustion of the day kick in. I had yet to eat anything, and had spent the day in my sweatpants. I forced myself into the shower, relishing in the feel of warm water working through my strained muscles.
Once I was out I cracked open the bag Michael gave me, pulling out a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt. Oh so now you understand the type of clothes I'd be comfortable in. I rolled my eyes and pulled out a pair of panties, and a simple black bra. As the bra fell out, a small note accompanied it. I arched a brow and shook my head, deciding it wouldn't matter what he had to say.
After getting dressed I walked to the nearest bar and grill, ordering myself a grilled chicken sandwich and a tall beer. The waiter eyed me funny but brought my beer a few minutes later. I rubbed at my temple and took generous sips, while my mind sorted through the day. Maybe things will be alright—maybe I should consider some fucking therapy. I pulled the new cellphone out and idly flipped through the options, my brows furrowing when I realized I had 23 text messages. Sighing a little I opened the small icon, my eyes widening as Michael's name filled the screen.
"Jesus…" I mumbled, taking another gulp of my beer. Leaning back in my chair I maneuvered through each text, my resolve slowly breaking apart.
I'm so sorry.
Please talk to me.
I didn't mean for this to get so messed up.
I never wanted him to hurt you.
You told me you wanted to help me.
I don't want to lose you, Gabriella. Please talk to me.
Please just give me a chance.
I found the SUV, is that the hotel you're staying in?
I just want a chance to make things right.
Can we please start over?
I could see the last one was from twenty minutes ago. Shaking my head I tucked my phone back into my pocket and muttered a "thanks" when my sandwich was dropped off. I picked at it, my hunger dissolving from my newest mood. I forced half of it down before giving up. After settling my check I made my way back to the hotel, taking the elevator up to the room. Once I unlocked my door I stepped in, flicking the light on.
"Gabriella…"
I spun around quickly, my eyes widening as Michael stood before me.
"ARE YOU CRAZY? GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" I screeched, marching towards him. Before I could raise my hand to hit him again he grabbed my arms, looking down at me.
"Please just talk to me. If you never want to see me again
I tried to avoid thinking about any one subject for too long. I let my brain jump from topic to topic, hoping that the constant stimulation would keep everything in some distant place. I couldn’t think about Michael, Genovese, and the last few weeks… the things that had happened. My only chance at sanity was pushing them as far away as possible.
Once I made it to the city I checked myself into one of the more moderate hotels, assuming that three nights would be long enough for me to find an apartment. After parking his SUV in the lot out back I hailed a cab to the nearest used car dealer. I had no intention of living my life in excess and planned to get it back to normal as soon as possible.
The dealer's eyes lit up as I easily picked a 2009 royal blue Toyota Camry and handed my car over. Within half an hour I was leaving the dealer, with a promise to come back for my permanent plates tomorrow.
I made my way back to the hotel and headed to the lobby, deciding I needed to work on a job and a place to live. The clerk was able to give me a renter's guide, and a recent newspaper. I spent the better part of the day making phone calls, and was surprised with my success.
With the money Michael had given me, I was able to rent a beautiful loft on the edge of downtown. It was small, but open, with lots of windows. The loft was surrounded by restaurants, fancier bars, and lounges—lots of places I could try to find a job. The building manager promised to have my place ready for move-in by 8am the next day.
It was 7pm, and I was finally letting the exhaustion of the day kick in. I had yet to eat anything, and had spent the day in my sweatpants. I forced myself into the shower, relishing in the feel of warm water working through my strained muscles.
Once I was out I cracked open the bag Michael gave me, pulling out a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt. Oh so now you understand the type of clothes I'd be comfortable in. I rolled my eyes and pulled out a pair of panties, and a simple black bra. As the bra fell out, a small note accompanied it. I arched a brow and shook my head, deciding it wouldn't matter what he had to say.
After getting dressed I walked to the nearest bar and grill, ordering myself a grilled chicken sandwich and a tall beer. The waiter eyed me funny but brought my beer a few minutes later. I rubbed at my temple and took generous sips, while my mind sorted through the day. Maybe things will be alright—maybe I should consider some fucking therapy. I pulled the new cellphone out and idly flipped through the options, my brows furrowing when I realized I had 23 text messages. Sighing a little I opened the small icon, my eyes widening as Michael's name filled the screen.
"Jesus…" I mumbled, taking another gulp of my beer. Leaning back in my chair I maneuvered through each text, my resolve slowly breaking apart.
I'm so sorry.
Please talk to me.
I didn't mean for this to get so messed up.
I never wanted him to hurt you.
You told me you wanted to help me.
I don't want to lose you, Gabriella. Please talk to me.
Please just give me a chance.
I found the SUV, is that the hotel you're staying in?
I just want a chance to make things right.
Can we please start over?
I could see the last one was from twenty minutes ago. Shaking my head I tucked my phone back into my pocket and muttered a "thanks" when my sandwich was dropped off. I picked at it, my hunger dissolving from my newest mood. I forced half of it down before giving up. After settling my check I made my way back to the hotel, taking the elevator up to the room. Once I unlocked my door I stepped in, flicking the light on.
"Gabriella…"
I spun around quickly, my eyes widening as Michael stood before me.
"ARE YOU CRAZY? GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" I screeched, marching towards him. Before I could raise my hand to hit him again he grabbed my arms, looking down at me.
"Please just talk to me. If you never want to see me again
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