***BOOK ONE OF THE SERIES!!***
(Book 2 currently being written)
Giovanna Romano, having been abandoned by her husband as she learns about carrying his child, she spends three years raising her child alone. A single mother who had completely given up...
Friday evening came around too quickly. I had only just finished packing, now riding in the passenger seat to the airport. Trent's firm grip remaining on my thigh after dropping Aria off at Antonio's house for the weekend.
I always feel guilty when I leave her. Like I'm being selfish. But Hannah reminded me that even mothers needed a break. And that we'd be back Monday. But that didn't stop the tears as I left. Tears I held back whilst I said my goodbyes.
Deep down, I knew she wouldn't have time to miss me. She never does when she spends time with her cousins. But I'll miss her. So much.
Trent's car came to a stop as we reached a private air strip in Dallas. His thumb reached out to my face, delicately wiping a small smudge of mascara from under my eyes as he smiled over to me. "Come on..let's head out."
I nodded, climbing out of his car as Trent grabs our luggage from the trunk. He hands them over to a man in a smart shirt, tucked neatly into his black pants as Trent's hand rests on my lower back, guiding me up the stairs to the jet.
My eyes instantly scanned the jet. The Crystal white walls accentuating the navy material of the seats which are dotted across the jet. "Good evening, Mr Donovan." A blonde girl smiles up at him, pouring him a drink as if she knows his order off the top of her head.
Her eyes locked on him as she hands him the glass of whiskey, before trailing them over me. "New company?" She asks him, looking at me with a mixture of envy and disgust.
I felt my blood boiling, that Italian fire sparking inside me. But Trent beat me to it before I could say something. "Show some respect to my woman. We clear?" He said bluntly, lacking any emotion towards the woman who nods in agreement, retreating to the small room at the front of the plane. My stomach does flips as I listen.
His woman.
"Ignore her.." Trent begins, tapping on the sofa style chair as I walk over, cuddling up into his side. His arms pull me into him, making my legs draped over his lap as his fingers trace lines up and down my lower leg.
"I don't like her." I huff out, making him chuckle as he planted a kiss on top of my head. "Me neither.." he whispered in agreement as we both chuckled.
The rest of the flight, we lay with each other. Talk. Laugh. He steals a kiss here and there, letting his hands wander. But I wouldn't cave in.
Payback for him teasing me last night.
When we land, it was dark. But the air was still warm as we descend from the jet, the moonlight sparking down on us. There is a black sports car sitting on the tarmac, as a man hands Trent the keys.
As the man loads the last of our luggage into the car, Trent and I slide into the car. The smell of his cologne hits you the second you get in the car. A smell which instantly made my heart warmer.
"Where we heading to then?" I ask him curiously as the engine roars. Trent smirks over at me. "You'll soon find out." Is all he says as his car shoots out of the private airport, joining the derelict roads as the loud music in the car fills my ears.
After about 45 minutes of driving and singing, the car pulls up at a large gate surrounded by brick walls and trees.
The gate immediately opens slowly, revealing a huge, dimly lit gravel road. Trees lined on either side of it as we slowly drive down it.
Soon, I'm face to face with a stunning house. It was relatively modest in comparison to his wealth. White stone exterior with large windows dotted around the house. The car pulls towards the garage to the side of the house, that door too opening automatically.
As we pull in, there are three other cars lined up in there. Another black sports car, a Range Rover, and a navy blue Audi.
"Is this all yours??" I ask in shock, taking in the sights I've just witnessed. He chuckled deeply. "This has been my home for the past eight years." He confirmed, turning off the engine as he climbed out.
He grabbed the bags as I climbed out the car. I wandered towards the entrance of the house. Trent unlocked the front door, guiding me through the door as he dropped out bags in the entrance.
It was modern, very bright colours, yet still feels homey.
"It's beautiful.." I quietly admit, kicking my shoes off before walking round. On my exploration, I end up walking through a door upstairs. The familiar scent confirming who's bedroom this was.
Trent had a walk in closet and a bathroom coming off his bedroom like I did back home. I traced my finger along his dresser, observing my surroundings as my eyes caught something.
The wall above his dresser.
It was covered in picture frames. Pictures of him and Hudson under the bleachers. Him and Grace and Ellie on a boat. All five of us at prom. Him and I kissing under the big tree in my garden. Me on his back as we both were in fits of laughter. One of just me, sitting in the centre of all of the pictures. It was the summer before he left, sitting on his bed playing his guitar I stole from him.
I felt goosebumps take over my body as I took it all in. The realisation. He had those photos up all this time? Of our friends? Of us? Kissing? Me, sitting centre stage amongst them all?
"The only thing that made this place feel like home.." his deep voice caught my attention as he walked over to me. "You had these up the whole time?" I ask in shock and he nods, his finger tracing over the picture of me in the middle.
Trent nods, hugging me from behind as his chin rests on top of my head as we look at all the pictures he has proudly on display. "Of course I did. I didn't leave and instantly forget you all. Out here, it's not like Hayfields. People are out for the fame. But this?" He gestures to the pictures.
"This is home. This motivated me to do better. For you all." He admits, making a huge smile settle on my face.
"I'm proud of you, you know that right?" I whisper, squeezing his arm which held me against his chest. "I know.." he whispers back, leaving a delicate kiss on top of my head.
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Who would've thought? Eight years and he kept all the memories. Keep leaving comments and feedback. I'll read them all. And prepare for the award show. Things get..interesting.
