PENTHOUSE 521

twenty-one | a return to the spotlight

CATALINA
♔ ♔ ♔

First off, I regret everything that happened yesterday.

Blinding sunlight poured through my automatic-opening curtains causing me to throw a pillow over my head in an attempt to shield my eyes as its brightness flooded my bedroom. Waking up can be brutal.

I groaned. My wake-up alarm on my nightstand went off at full volume the next second. With a slam of my left hand, I managed to shut it off.

You see, any other day, I would've allowed myself to sink further under the sheets. My heart wanted to lie in bed all day and allow myself to reflect on yesterday afternoon's events. Maybe even cry, but we cannot base all actions on emotions. Eventually, we must carry forward, no matter how tiring it is, and get on with our lives.

So I made the difficult choice to listen to my brain and pry the sheets from my body, throwing them to the side. It took a few moments for me to get re-oriented and slide my slippers on, and set the curtains to a place where it wasn't overwhelmingly bright. After that, somehow I found the strength to reach my bathroom for my morning routine.

Once I reached the bathroom I decided I would take my shower, brush my teeth, clean my face, dress in an attempt to keep up with my typical regime. Sticking to my routine would keep me sane. It was something I could hang onto when my emotions felt like they were so unsteady under the surface.

Keep calm. I sucked in a deep breath and began undressing, letting my pajamas pile on the floor next to the shower door. A second later, I went under the spray of warm water.

It felt relaxing. The water's warmth instantly eased my tensed-up muscles, letting me feel more like myself. Those fifteen minutes spent in the shower were needed. Not only to feel fresh and clean but to take some time to think alone before I had to head downstairs.

I exited the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, brushing my teeth next. Halfway through brushing, my eyes caught my reflection in the mirror. They looked red and puffy from crying before sleep.

I didn't feel grief over heartbreak. If I called it that, it would be making it a big deal when we weren't even dating. That would be an injustice to both Niccolò and me and what we had.

But yet, at the same time, I cared for him. I loved him. I knew in my heart I loved him just as I hoped I would love a man someday. I had dreamed up it for so long. Yet, I knew the danger I and he was in. I was beginning to feel too safe with him, too comfortable around him to let the emotional barriers I had built since my childhood down. Life wasn't simple for anyone, but I could tell given that he was in the Mafia, and I had a life entangled with fame that the logic was there that things could get real ugly real fast.

So call me selfish and cold, I know how my actions could be perceived, but I did what I thought was best before we got trapped into something that was too good to be true and both ended up heartbroken. Yes, I do regret how I went about it, especially leaving him without any clue why, but in the pit of my stomach, I knew it would've been the same outcome regardless of how I approached it.

Maybe it was better to have just bit the bullet. Maybe his cluelessness would help him and in a sense, leave him grief that would subside quicker.

Disregarding my thoughts, I spat the toothpaste from my mouth, rinsing with mouthwash afterward. I sighed, running a hand through my wet hair before brushing it.

With that, I checked myself over, deciding to put on some eye drops. Hopefully, by the time I got to the breakfast table, the redness would have subsided. If not, then at least I could count on the fact that my parents wouldn't make a big deal out of it, or they would wait to address it after our public appearance. My Mom and Dad wouldn't want to be on thin ice with me all day. They couldn't let others see the cracks in the family relationship the three of us were supposed to have.