Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Lying in my bed, I order myself some Uber Eats-- the In and Out by my place is, in fact, the best one. Waiting for my food I scroll through social media with no real goal. It's absent-minded behavior to pass the time. I need to do something or I'll go insane waiting to hear from Marco.
He should land in the next fifteen minutes or so.
I scroll on and on. Nothing keeps my attention. Beauty news, band announcements, weather stuff... I keep going just to do something.
Something catches my eye; I scroll backward. Sitting up, I hunch over my phone in interest. It's an article about the Corvello Cruise Company.
New CEO Marco Corvello takes control. Will he keep the company afloat or let it sink?
It's a piece about how much Marco has stacked against him. The company has been getting poor stock results recently, all due to unease about who would take control. I guess a lot of people don't think Marco can handle it... Scowling, I scroll onward. I know Marco will be fine. I'm sure of it.
But as I continue to read, my scowl deepens. The article paints Marco as a playboy, someone who's only interested in women and partying. It's a completely inaccurate portrayal of the man I know and love, and I can't help feeling angry at the writer for perpetuating such falsehoods.
My phone buzzes and I jump, almost dropping it in my lap. It's a message from Marco.
"Just landed. Miss you already."
I smile, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. I type back quickly.
"Miss you too. How's your mom?"
"Heading to see her now. Will call later. Love you."
I stare at the message in glee. My heart feels like it's about to burst with happiness as I type back. "Love you too."
I put down my phone and lay back on my bed. My peace is ruined by the doorbell. Jumping up, I hurry to answer. The young guy that left my paper bag of food on my step is already back to his car. "Thanks!" I shout. He waves quickly, driving off for another delivery.
Eager to get my fresh food into my stomach, I close the door, setting the bag on the kitchen counter. The burger is saucy to the point of messy. My favorite problem.
Chowing down on the salty goodness, I lick my thumb, staring at my phone some more. It rings, shocking me. My dad's name blinks. "Hey, Dad," I say when I answer.
"Filia! Where are you?"
"Home. I landed a couple hours ago."
"Oh, thank god. I'm so happy to hear that."
I eat a fry and consider how to reply. "I had a great time, by the way."
"That's...good. Good."
"Is it?"
He goes quiet. "Filia, I'm sorry I flipped out before. I was worried, then confused, it was all so much. I really am glad you liked Italy, and also glad you're back to your normal life now."
My neck tightens. "I have news. I'm done working for the airline officially. I'm not going to try to get my job back."
"Okay...what will you do instead?"
My eyes bounce to the wooden plane on my shelf. "I'll be traveling the world with Marco."
"Marco? The guy you met a few weeks ago? Filia––"
"I love him. It's very simple. If you're going to argue with me more, just end this call. I know what I'm doing, Dad."
"I believe you do, sweety."
That makes me blink. "You do?"
"You always have. I might have expected you to go for some nose-grinding career, but deep down, I knew your love was experiencing new places, new experiences. If this Marco fella can give you all that, good for you. I mean it."
My throat feels swollen so I chug some of my Pepsi. "Thanks, Dad. I love you."
"I love you, too."
***
I stay up late waiting for word from Marco. By midnight my body gives in and I pass out.
In the morning I wake yawning and I roll over in my bed. At first I'm disoriented; this isn't the cruise ship, or the fancy hotel. There's no warm, cinnamon smelling Marco beside me ready for a romp.
Fluffing my hair, I stare at my familiar windows, my ceiling, my rug. "I'm home," I say out loud, centering myself. I check my phone. No messages from Marco. Bothered by this, I decide to settle my brain with a hot shower.
But it doesn't help.
Neither does ordering crepes. I can't blame Uber Eats; nothing can compete with the food in Italy. I eat them anyway, sipping the coffee that tastes flat. I've been spoiled by experiencing food and drink in the presence of a man I loved. Everything tastes better with Marco near me.
The knocking on my door is loud––hard enough to scare me. It's an insistent knock. Rushing over, I check the peep-hole. On the other side is...
"Marco?" I blurt, opening the door for him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were visiting your mom!"