Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

Fashion Reflects Who You Are (Chapter 32)

Waking up to a morning sunrise lighting up her room, Marlow slowly stirred. The last thing she remembered was Piero holding her tight and humming.

Sitting up and resting against the headboard, she chuckled. Whether it was pure exhaustion or the fact that the bed was so comfortable, it was clear from how neat the covers were that she had not stirred at all. Rubbing her face in her hands, she glanced at the clock beside the bed; 6:42 a.m. This time yesterday, she was somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, imagining what it would be like to hold Piero again. Changing out of Piero's jogging shorts and back into her leggings, taking another whiff of her T-shirt, she tossed it back in her bag. It smelled worse this morning than it had last night. Throwing on the last clean T-shirt in her carry-on, she stared at herself in the mirror. Normally liking her outfit, the T-shirt over leggings wasn't cutting it this morning. However, with no suitcase, there wasn't much she could do about it.

Opening the doors to the terrace and stepping outside, Marlow closed her eyes and raised her face to the warming sun. Despite being in the heart of the city, her surroundings were surprisingly serene, with only the melodious warbling of birds breaking the silence to welcome a new day. Venturing further onto the terrace, her jaw dropped at the sight greeting her. Towering above the building to her right, several majestic spires reached towards the heavens, undoubtedly belonging to the cathedral she had caught a glimpse of the day before. Excited to share the breathtaking view with her friends back home, Marlow opened her bag and felt around the pockets for the familiar shape. Not finding it, she dumped its contents onto the bed. Desperate, she grabbed the room phone and dialled her cell. Keenly listening, each successive ring that did not echo back intensified her growing anxiety. Where could it be?

Though here with Piero, it would not be wise to be without easy contact with people she knew. Tired and not paying attention when they checked in, she could only assume he was on the same floor, but where? Calling down to the front desk, Marlow prayed for help.

"Buongiorno, Park Hyatt Milano, parla Lisara. Come posso aiutarti?"

"Buongiorno, parli inglese?"

"Yes, how may I help you?" a cheerful voice answered.

Relaying her situation and everything that had happened since her arrival, Marlow begged for help.

"Let me check our safe and see if anything was turned in."

Left to listen to some unfamiliar music, Marlow chewed on her thumbnail. Please be there. Please be there, she silently pleaded.

"I'm sorry. Nothing has been turned in."

Marlow's heart dropped, and she struggled to keep it together.

"Are you sure you don't remember the room number of the person you are with?" Lisara asked, trying to help in whatever way she could.

"No. I was so exhausted; I didn't pay attention."

"That's OK. What is your room number?"

"It's room 563," her vocal cords squeaked out.

"Give me a moment, and I'll see what I can do."

Grateful that she had not been put on hold, Marlow could hear fingers tapping on a keyboard.

"OK. I have it," Lisara said. "Since he has also registered your room under his name, would you like me to put you through to him?"

"Yes, please!"

"I'm sorry I had to put you through that, but we must protect our guests' privacy, especially when they have a security code attached to their file.

"I understand."