Dinner on Friday

18. Carla

SERGIO TO THE RESCUE

The next morning, I woke up soaked in my own sweat. At first, I thought it was from the scotch last night, but the first place my mind went to after I opened my eyes was the restaurant.

My heart pounded wildly at the thought of going there. As I picked out my clothes for the day, every movement felt mechanical, devoid of the usual enthusiasm I normally felt when getting ready to go somewhere.

After showering, I stood in front of the mirror like a statue. My reflection appeared haggard and worn. Deep lines of anxiety etched my face like grooves in a canyon. My hands shook as I tried to apply my makeup, the brush momentarily slipping from my fingers.

I skipped contouring and lipstick; the extra steps suddenly felt overwhelming. I met Dante in the kitchen, and he regarded me with concern.

He moved about the kitchen effortlessly. Gone were any signs of him drinking last night. Dressed in black jeans and a light grey sweater, he was a sight for sore eyes. My cheeks heated at the thought of what we did on the couch last night.

I stopped at the kitchen counter and he reached over, tipping my chin and looking into my eyes. "I hope you slept better than I did, but by the looks of you, I'm guessing you didn't," he said.

"I slept alright," I said, which wasn't a lie.

"I made you a banana shake with spinach." He kissed me before holding up a glass filled with a creamy substance. "Drink up. It'll give you some energy."

My eyes flickered to the glass, the contents swirling with promises of sustenance. However, the mere thought of consuming anything made my stomach churn with a sickening unease. Somehow, liquid food had become a reminder of the poisoning attempt presumably orchestrated by Annabella.

"I... I can't," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Food... it makes me feel horrible."

Dante's eyes widened in disbelief. "Cariño, are you pregnant?"

"What? Gosh no." His face fell and I paused. "Do want you want me to be?"

"I would be happy if you were, but since you're not, I will make you a new shake later. Or something else if you prefer." He pulled me into his embrace and kissed me again.

"Thank you."

Once in the car, my hands trembled as I reached for the seatbelt, struggling to click it into place. I could feel the sweat prickling my forehead, the rapid thumping of my heart echoing in my ears.

The mere thought of stepping foot inside the restaurant sent shivers down my spine...

Sitting beside me, Dante cast a worried glance in my direction. He gently squeezed my hand as if he knew exactly what I was going through. "I'm so proud of you, baby. I know this is hard for you, but you're doing this, overcoming your fears. No matter what, I'll be with you every step of the way."

I nodded, attempting to steady my breathing. "I know you will."

As Sergio maneuvered the car through the bustling streets, my gaze wandered aimlessly. The city seemed to whiz by, a blur of familiar buildings and unfamiliar faces. My mind, however, was trapped in a web of dark memories.

The closer we got to the restaurant, the more my anxiety intensified. Memories of the restaurant shootout still haunted my dreams, the sound of gunfire echoing in my mind. The bloodstains and shattered glass were vivid images etched into my memory, refusing to fade.

Sergio parked the car a few yards away from the restaurant's rear entrance. I couldn't bare going through the front door. For some reason, I kept thinking Santiago's body was buried out there under a pile of snow.