Prologue
940 Words
Three years ago…
Alessandra’s POV:
“Good morning, babe,” Javier kissed me.
“Hey,” I replied sleepily.
“Happy anniversary,” he kissed me again, and I returned the gesture. “I have a surprise for you tonight,” he whispered.
“Happy anniversary to you too,” I smiled, gazing into his green eyes.
He was Mexican; I was Italian.
“You’re so beautiful, and I love you,” he grinned, making my heart skip a beat.
“I love you too,” I said, kissing him once more before getting out of bed.
“Why don’t we skip work today and stay in?” he suggested.
“I can’t; I have an important meeting this morning,” I replied, shaking my head as I opened the closet.
He groaned.
“I can’t wait to take you to Mexico for our little vacation; my family misses you,” he said.
“I miss them too, especially Josefina,” I retorted.
Josefina, his younger sister, always kept me company.
“You two are inseparable and always team up against me,” he remarked.
“When you live in a house full of guys, she’ll always prefer female company,” I shrugged.
Javier’s mother had passed away five years ago. It was a sad day for all of us; she was like a second mother to me, teaching me the value of family.
“But she has Elena and Rosa, who visit often,” he argued.
“They don’t come all the time; remember, they moved for college,” I pointed out.
Josefina chose to stay home and attend community college in the city.
“If I were José, I would have moved too; our family had the money,” he said in his charming Mexican accent, which I loved, especially when he spoke fluent Spanish.
I learned Spanish well from him, and he picked up Italian for my family's visits.
“How’s Alessio?” Javier asked.
“Good, he’s happy to be back in Italy,” I chuckled.
Alessio is my twin brother who recently graduated from university in Paris and returned to Italy, though he’s still single.
“Do you think he’ll reconnect with his high school ex?” he added.
“I hope so; I like her,” I replied.
Alessio's ex had moved to Italy when he was a junior, and I still check up on her; we're long-distance friends.
We were born in Italy, moved to the U.S. at three, and when our parents returned to Italy after my grandmother fell ill, I stayed in the States with Javier while Alessio took a year before getting into a university in Paris.
Javier nodded.
I got dressed and wrapped a towel around me while he stepped onto the balcony to take a call.
I entered the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
***
I arrived at work, employed by a popular shopping line in Florida. Javier and I moved to Orlando last year after I finished university; we loved the warm weather.
“Morning, Ms. Ricci,” my boss, Georgia, greeted me as I entered her office.
She had silver-gray hair and hazel eyes and ran one of the largest shopping lines in America and Europe.
“Good morning,” I smiled as she handed me some files.
“I know today is your anniversary, but we have a meeting in half an hour; our annual modeling show is in a couple of months,” she stated.
I nodded; I had been hired as her secretary last year and knew all about the show.
“We need new models, too,” she added.
“I already emailed various agencies,” I explained.
“Good, you’re dismissed,” she said, her French accent noticeable. I have an American accent since I grew up here.
****
During my lunch break, I called Javier. “Hola, mi amor,” he answered, making me blush.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I giggled, playing with my hair.
“Just missing you; running a business isn’t easy,” he replied.
“I know, but you’re doing great, and I love you,” I told him.
“I love you, too, and you can expect something soon at the front entrance of the building.”
I grinned.
But then I heard background noise along with a woman’s voice: “Hey, baby.”
What? Baby?
“What are you doin—”
I hung up quickly, my heart racing. Was Javier seeing someone else?
I wiped a tear away quickly so no one would notice.
I got up and returned to my office.
Who was that woman?
Should I call Javier? No, I didn’t want to sound paranoid or distrustful—we had been together for eight years.
I sighed, feeling the need to talk to my best friend and twin brother.
I called Alessio, who answered on the third ring.
“Hey, ragazza,” he greeted in Italian.
“Hey, Alessio,” I sighed.
“Cosa c'è che non va?” he asked with concern.
“Penso che Javier mi sta tradendo,” I confessed.
“Che cosa?!” he gasped.
“Non sono sicuro che lo sia; cosa fare?” I asked.
“Vuoi tornare a casa?” he suggested.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Then start packing; you’re about to move to another continent. See you soon and call our parents. Ti voglio bene, sorellina,” he said.
“Ti voglio bene anch'io,” I replied.
I hung up.
Now, I’d need to resign or ask for a transfer since my boss has branches across Europe.
______________________
- Writer
