Never Get to Heaven • Charles Leclerc

001. VISITOR

"Okay, Adam, I'll see you later!" I called out to him.

"Remember the rules, babe!" He called back from his office. I rolled my eyes.

Adam had given me specific instructions for the weekend with Joanna:

No drinking.
No smoking.
No clubbing.
No talking to strangers—especially men.
Home before midnight.
Call and text him regularly.

I stared blankly at him, zoning out, while he lectured me about this. Through gritted teeth, I politely smiled and agreed to avoid another argument.

I didn't feel like my own person anymore, constantly being watched and controlled like a little girl. Since moving to Monaco, I have made no new friends. My days consisted of going to work, coming home to Adam, making him dinner as he was typically swamped with work, and going to bed. I wasn't sure how much longer I could go on like this.

I feel so trapped.

Before Adam, I had always been outgoing and bubbly, making friends wherever I went. Nowadays, I struggle to even say hello to people without feeling anxious.

"Of course, babe! I'll call you later." I replied as I walked out the door.

I was so excited to see Joanna. We hadn't seen each other in almost a year, and I couldn't wait to hear Jo's stories about everything I had missed. I longed for my old life in Lyon, my friends, the familiar streets, and our cramped apartment. Everything back then was so perfect that I wish I could go back and warn my younger self not to leave. I felt a pang of nostalgia in my chest as I reminisced about all the memories we shared, knowing I was no longer a main character in my best friend's life.

I got in my car and drove to the rental apartment Jo had picked out for us. The sun was beating down, and I opened the car windows, letting my blonde hair flow in the breeze. For the first time in a while, I felt almost peaceful. I turned up the music on the car radio and smiled, making a few more turns until I reached my destination.

I had made it before Joanna. Of course, she was late for everything. Collecting the keys and making my way inside, I couldn't believe how nice this place was—floor-to-ceiling windows, a huge kitchen, and a balcony overlooking the marina. How the hell did Jo get this place?

I placed my bag on the counter and pulled out my phone to text Jo. However, before I could even unlock it, my best friend came bursting through the front door with a beaming smile.

"There's my gorgeous girl!" She cried, dropping her bags and sweeping me into a tight hug.

"God, I've missed you, my little bee." Joanna squeezed me tightly, seemingly never wanting to let go.

"Me too, Jo. Me too." I said quietly, muffled by my head in Jo's hair.

Jo pulled away from the hug and looked into my eyes, which were lined with little tears. She gave me a small, sympathetic smile. The two of us had an unspoken understanding of how much I needed this. Jo cupped my face in her hand.

"We are going to make this the best weekend ever." She promised me, holding out her little finger.

I couldn't help but giggle at the gesture. Pinky promises were something we had always done with each other. I interlinked my little finger with Jo's, "It better be!" I beamed.

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After settling into our rooms, Jo and I decided to venture out for dinner. Despite living in Monaco for almost a year, I wasn't confident recommending restaurants. Adam had always picked for us.

We wandered around for a while, looking for a decent place to eat, eventually deciding on a little Italian restaurant near our apartment. The waiter led us to the table, handed us each a menu, and we took our seats.