WhatsApp Ft. Pierre Gasly

32

The next week I am back to work and trying to forget about Pierre, which is not easy and that's putting it mildly. He's been calling me all week long, texting me. In the end, he even used other phone numbers to try and reach me, but the only people I answer are family and friends from home.

I throw my bag on the floor and walk into the living room of my own place. After I came back from France, Dante had packed all his belongings and had left, luckily. I couldn't have handled Dante on top of Pierre. Or Pierre on top of Dante, I'm not quite sure which way it is anymore because in the little time I have spent with Pierre I have really come to like him.

I cook myself a quick dinner and then call mom.

"Hey mom." Since I have been back in Italy I haven't been home yet, dad I have seen at work, but mom I haven't seen yet.

"Anca, darling, when are you coming over again?"

"That's what I'm calling you about." I chuckle. "It has been a while, but I was home yesterday, but you two weren't home."

"Your father and I were on a date. It had been a while, so we went out for dinner." I smile. I love how my parents are still head over heels for each other.

"That's so nice mom!" I take a bite of my meatloaf. It is so simple to make, but I love it so much. "But when can I come by?"

"How about tomorrow?"

"That sounds great mom. I could really do with some motherly advice. Apparently ever since I met Pierre things are going bad and I don't even understand myself anymore..." Mom chuckles.

"Yeah, you could really do with some motherly advice." I hear a tone in her voice I can't place, but apparently, she already knows something I don't.