First message
Three months of ordinary life in the US for her, filled with work and a couple of short relationships, had been hell for him.
One night together on a Mediterranean cruise, and Thomas couldn’t stop thinking about her. She might have slept with him out of pity, but Thomas had never seen it that way. To him, he had finally gotten what he wanted. He had won.
Then two deals collapsed. Sicilians liked agreements to be honored exactly as promised. Thomas spent a week in a basement and a month in the hospital. Jaw surgery. A broken arm.
The funniest part, at least to Thomas, was how insignificant all of it seemed. He only cared about her.
He spent the rest of the time looking for her. When he finally found her, he flew to the US immediately and checked into the right hotel. First came flowers to her office. Then flowers to her apartment. Then something with diamonds, whose price he hadn’t even bothered to check.
When Thomas later saw a homeless man wearing the bracelet he’d given her, he laughed.
Woman with character, he thought.
Somewhere underneath the amusement, it hurt. Badly. Unbearably.
Next time, he waited outside her workplace. No flowers. No diamonds. Just Thomas.
“Stop playing this ridiculous game and get in the car,” he said, opening the door for her.