six hours

8: The visit

The days at the Romano house seemed to fly by, yet they dragged on endlessly at the same time. Life settled back into a familiar routine, with Ash and I back at Tante's restaurant, serving dishes and chatting with the occasional regular. But even though everything seemed normal on the outside, there was a shift that I couldn't ignore. The boys checked on us every now and then, but it was always rushed, like they had somewhere more important to be. Mrs. Renee, ever the caring figure, made sure we were okay, but the absence of Eddy—my Eddy—left a hole in my chest.

Ever since he started working, he had been distant. We'd barely seen each other, and when we did, he was always too busy, too caught up in his new world. I wasn't the only one feeling lonely—Ash, too, felt the weight of it. Cris, to his credit, tried to make up for it by dedicating his weekends and holidays to her, but Eddy? He was unreachable, absorbed in something I couldn't grasp.

And so, I decided. I was going to surprise him. Ash, knowing exactly how I felt, helped me get ready. Two hours later, I stood in front of the mirror, dressed in ripped high-waisted jeans, Air Nike sneakers, and a fitted crop top, my curly afro bouncing with each movement. I looked confident, like I had everything figured out, but deep down, I was nervous. This was my chance to remind him of what we had—of what I still needed.

I grabbed the keys to the car, and without a second thought, I drove to E.C. Corp. The sight of the building as I pulled up took my breath away. The sleek, glass exterior stretched up to the sky, reflecting the sunlight in a way that almost seemed unnatural. It was towering, intimidating—almost a symbol of how far Eddy had gone in his father's footsteps. Ten floors of glass and steel, each one stacked high above me like a mountain. I couldn't help but wonder—was this the world I was losing him to?

I walked into the lobby, immediately spotting the receptionist—a woman with a bold red lip, chewing gum loudly, her eyes glued to her phone as she filed her nails. The moment I saw her, I could already tell this wasn't going to be a pleasant interaction.

"Hi, I'm here to see—" I started, trying to keep my tone friendly, but before I could finish, she snapped her fingers and clicked her tongue dismissively.

"No one in this building is ready for a person like you," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain.

I blinked, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

She didn't even let me finish, her eyes still glued to her phone as she waved me off. "You're in the wrong place, girl," she said, her tone as sharp as the clicking of her nails.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, my hands shaking with frustration. I tried to reason with her, but she refused to even look at me. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, a deep voice echoed through the lobby, shaking the air.

"HOW DARE YOU MAKE LITTLE MISS WAIT!?!" a guard yelled, his booming voice shaking the walls.

I turned to see a tall, broad figure striding toward us. The receptionist—who I now knew was named Nicole—shot up from her chair, her expression shifting from indifference to shock.

"You mean to tell me that she's related to one of the Romanos?" she sneered, laughing out loud. "I read my magazines, and this maid is nothing." Her laughter rang out, a hollow, cruel sound that made my blood boil.

The guard smirked, clearly relishing in this moment. "I see you've been reading outdated magazines, sweetheart. You don't know that she's Little Miss Nora Edward Romano?" he taunted, his words sharp like daggers.

Nicole's face turned pale, and her eyes widened with horror as she realized her mistake. She scrambled to apologize, but the guard wasn't done. "Apologize for your job!" he shouted, dragging me away before I could say anything.