She leaves.
I'm halfway through my coffee when my phone buzzes.
Oliver's name flashes across the screen.
Something loosens in my chest. I didn't realize how much I needed this until right now.
"Hey," I answer.
"Hey yourself." His voice is warm. "How's life as a mafia princess?"
I laugh. It comes out tired but real.
"Complicated."
"That bad?"
"Not bad exactly." I set down my coffee cup. "Just... a lot."
"Tell me."
I want to. God, I want to spill everything.
But I can't. Not over the phone. Not like this.
"Can we meet?" I ask instead.
"That's actually why I'm calling." Oliver's voice brightens. "I miss your face. And I'm worried about you. You've been gone a week and I've barely heard anything."
"I know. I'm sorry. Things have been?—"
"Complicated. Yeah, you said." He pauses. "So can we? Meet, I mean?"
"Yes." The word comes out fast. Desperate. "I'll arrange it for tomorrow. I need to figure out the logistics here, but I'll let you know the details."
"Logistics." Oliver snorts. "Listen to you. Already talking like a mob wife."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"I actually need to get out of here for a while," I admit. "Even just for a few hours. This place is beautiful but it's also..."
"A prison?"
"Something like that."
"Then we'll make it happen. Coffee? Lunch? I'll come to you if that's easier."
"Let me figure out what's allowed and I'll?—"
My phone beeps. Second line.
I pull it away from my ear. Bruno's name on the screen.
"Oliver, I have to go. Someone's calling."
"Go. Call me later with the plan for tomorrow."