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An Ambulance On The Way
Last Updated:
2025-02-20 18:23:42
Maria-GraceDaily updates promised. I shall be pausing my other books and focusing on this one. Please support
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ENZO MORETTII got upstairs, washed my face and towel-dried it. A knock sounded at the door. I went to open it, thinking it was Isa, but it wasn’t her."Room service?" the lady and gentleman announced with cordial smiles."You ordered breakfast for two," the lady said.I remembered. I stepped aside and let them bring the food inside. As they were leaving, Isa appeared behind them.They exchanged polite greetings before she stepped in. The door was bolted, and I headed straight to the medium-sized breakfast table to eat.Isa walked over. For a second, I thought she was going to sit with me, but she only checked her food, picked it up, and went to the dresser.That was where she preferred to eat. At least six inches away from me."You only ever talk about Cleo. I didn’t even know you had a mum," I said, making a move to break the ice between us.The tension in the air was heavier than anything I had experienced.The truth was, my brain wasn’t ready for this conversation.We were meeting
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ISABELLA GARCIA “This is so crazy, babe. Are you okay?” I rushed out to Enzo, flinging my bag onto our bed. Enzo sat at the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes. He was shirtless, his back carved into beautiful chunks of muscle that flexed as he moved. He turned to face me, his neck craning. I hurried across the room. I wanted to stop and take off my shoes too, but I needed to be beside him already. Enzo had called me while I was still with Cleo to tell me what Edwina did. Edwina was Terry’s mom. I hadn’t heard from her in months. She never really cared about Ethan and me, but she loved Terry. “I got dragged for answers. I wasn’t beat up,” Enzo assured me as I sat beside him. He held my chin, and I sighed, feeling safe in his warmth. “This is all my fault,” I breathed out. “If I wasn’t with you, you wouldn’t be dragged into this.” Enzo shook his head, his fingers sliding to the back of my head. “This is happening not just because I’m with you, but because of me.” H
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ISABELLA GARCIA Cleo crouched beside me, holding a glass of water. She lifted it to my lips, but I turned my head away, pushing it aside. A few drops spilled onto my chest, cool against my skin, but I didn’t care. My focus was locked on the unfamiliar face before me. I didn't mind the water at that moment. I had my tear-stained eyes on the face I didn't know. “I’m Debbie,” The woman said as an explanation. “We work together. Cleo and I.” Debbie spoke as if introducing herself could fix things. As though knowing her name would make having her here easier. But it wouldn’t. It only made things worse and knowing her name didn't mean I knew her Silence rang out and Debbie stood in the middle of the kitchen as the awkwardness choked every one of us. Cleo moved first. She reached for my hands, and this time, I let her help me up. Debbie hesitated, then stepped back, instinctively giving us space. She had to already know she wasn’t meant to be part of this moment. It wasn't
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ISABELLA GARCIA I can get another car. Let Bobby wait with you,” Enzo said firmly. He was adamant about not leaving me alone at Cleo’s house, a place that had once been my home too. He had been so worried about me lately. It was sweet. I loved the feeling of being taken care of, of knowing that I was his priority. But I didn’t want to throw his entire day off just because of my presence. He and Marco had a packed schedule. They had a conference appearance to make and a board meeting to attend. If Enzo waited for another ride, he would be late. “We don’t know who has their eyes on you,” he said, stepping closer. His hands slid to my lower waist, pulling m body against his. I sucked in a breath, my body reacting instantly. Goosebumps rose along my arms and a fluttering warmth spread in my stomach. “She let me in,” I murmured to Enzo, lifting the key above my head to show him. His eyes flicked to it, but the sight barely softened his stance. He was still guarded, his expressio
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CLEO GARCIA “It was the worst time of my life,” Debbie said, lifting the bottle to her lips. She took a slow, deliberate sip of water before continuing. “I was just a little girl on the school bus, and people loved to mess with the little girl. I sat at the back, kept quiet, and avoided eye contact. Until…” She raised her fingers slightly. There was a memory playing behind her eyelids. I could just tell in the silence of the pause. I reached for the bottle, and Debbie wordlessly pushed it into my palm. The early morning air was crisp as we walked, the quiet streets a stark contrast to the long, exhausting night we had spent clearing our work schedules. A colleague had celebrated his birthday, inviting a few of us from the office out for drinks. Debbie had brought me along, and afterward, I asked her to come over so we could wrap up some unfinished work. I was ready to make friends with her. We hadn’t spent the night exchanging stories or deepening what we knew about each other.
