Fate Interrupted

39. Unravelling

Ren

I wake up in the dark. The annoying fan is still rattling away, and even under a thin sheet, my shirt clings to my lightly damp body. Gio's usually curled right behind me or with his hand on my hip, but I don't sense him there—probably too hot for him tonight. Ugh, I hate sleeping in this muggy heat!

I fidget around, trying to get comfortable again, but it's useless. Agitated, I flip over dramatically. I fully expect Gio to stir at that, but he doesn't. Blindly, my arms extend out to feel for him, but his side of the bed is again empty, and the sheets are relatively cool. I lift my head. It's 4:42 am, and a sliver of light glows from under his office door. What the hell??

He's up even earlier this morning. I should check on him, but I'm so tired I can't be bothered.

Distant thunder rumbles low, and sleep pulls me under again.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

As my eyes open, I slowly wake from the best few hours of sleep I've had all night. The room is unusually dim for morning, and the velvety spell of delicious sleep entices me to close my lids again. But just as they do, a loud roll of thunder breaks me into a state of alert, and I bolt upright. The clock is blinking 8:23 am at me.

Crap! I've overslept.

Bewildered, I leap out of bed and stumble into the giant pile of clothes I've left on the floor. After nearly falling on my face, I regain my balance, albeit momentarily, before smashing my big toe into the leg of the bed while turning the corner too sharply.

"Ouch! Crap! Crap!" Shit-fuck-damnit-crap! I keep yelling in my head as I fall sideways on the bed, clutching my throbbing toe.

"Bella, are you okay?" Gio calls from his office.

"Babe? You're still here, too?"  

I don't get a response. Limping on my heel into the hall as the pain slowly dissipates, I poke my head into his office. He is hunched over his drafting table, drawing over a massive pile of disorganized papers. More scattered all over the floor.

Crap Gio. What are you doing...

"Um, aren't you supposed to be on the job site by now?" 

He doesn't look up. "What time is it? I just got to get this done." His movements with the pencil are quick and sharp. 

"It's just after eight-thirty."

"Eight-thirty!" he gasps, whipping his head up. "How the fuck is it that late already?"

"I know! I need to leave right now, too! You should call one of the guys and tell him you'll be late, yeah?"

"Yes! Thank you!" 

He searches around his desk for his phone, which he always seems to be misplacing lately. I'm about to get changed, but instead of finding his phone, Gio finds a note on his desk of some sort of importance and just turns back to his work, engrossed.

"Babe—" 

"It's almost there," he interrupts. "The patterns for the plantings—they're almost perfect. All I need to do now is work on how the colors change throughout the year—gold and green to pink and yellow to orange and purple—it's going to be fucking amazing! I've never thought about it this in-depth before. It's going to win awards! I need you to watercolor this when I'm done, the client will freak out when they see this, you know a photographer, right? We can get this photographed in the early next summer when all the plantings are in, and the purples and coppers from the grasses are going to pick up on the weathering steel—it's fucking art, Bella! Lipas, Loral, no that's not right."