Love Games

Twenty - two: Sonar heart

"What are you doing this afternoon?" asks Emma as we eat half a box of these delicious desserts, which are already making me feel queasy.

"I'll probably go home for a bit. It's been a while since I've been there. I miss them," I say, glancing away before looking back at Emma.

She doesn't usually mind what I do, but lately she seems to be interested in my every move.

Not that I mind, but she knows way too much about me.

"Come by the Ocean beach bar later tonight and introduce yourself, well, the truth is, you already know everyone who works there. " Emma says.

"Sure, I'll be there around six. Is that, OK?" I reply, even though I have a lump in my throat from both the desserts and the anxiety of this new job. I know all about books, but this is new territory. I'll learn, though.

"It'll be great because it's not too crowded yet and Tony's working tonight. He can show you around. He's the best. Not that I'm not good at it, but I'm more of an admin guy. I only come in when things get chaotic," Emma explains, almost apologising for not training me herself.

"Good. Then we're all set,' I say, heading for my room.

It feels like a mistake to take this job, but I have no choice. There are still a few local libraries in Sicily, so maybe I'll try to find something in a bookshop.

I throw myself onto the bed and land on my back.

Life is so unpredictable. One moment you think you have it all, and the next it's taken away from you, forcing you to make choices you feel unprepared for.

I roll over onto my stomach.

The sheets still smell of him.

It smells of Jack.

I don't know why I'm so obsessed with him.

Is it his danger? His beauty? Or is it the perfect words he always knew what to say?

I'm jolted from my reverie by the relentless ringing of the phone. I groggily fumble around, my hand finally closing around the cold, familiar shape of my phone. Bringing it to my ear, I manage a weary, "Please..."

"Hey, how are you?" My mum's cheerful voice comes through the receiver, instantly lifting my spirits.

"Fine, just fine," I reply, trying to sound more awake. "Actually, I was just going to call you. If you're home, I thought I might come over for a coffee."

"Come over," she says warmly. "Of course we're home. Your dad's out in the garden again, fixing some tools. It's quite hot today, so he's already sweating."

"Great, I'll be there soon, Mum. See you soon." I hang up, chuckling to myself.

They've been married for thirty years. They married young and their bond has only strengthened over time. I always thought I would have found my soul mate by the time I was thirty. For a while I thought I had. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

With a mixture of nostalgia and anticipation, I get dressed and head out the door.

The walk to my parents' house is not quite short, but full of memories.

Every step reminds me of my childhood, of the countless times I walked the same path.

Arriving at their house, I find the door slightly ajar, a sign that I'm always welcome.

I walked in and was greeted by the familiar, comforting smells of home.

My mother emerges from the kitchen, a flour-dusted apron around her waist, her face lighting up when she sees me.