Stealing the Groom

Thirty Three

A/N: Before you read on I'd like to indulge in some shameless self-promoting.

It would mean the world to me if you guys added Sealed With A Kiss to your library. I'll be posting new chapters up every week from now on so please give Cole and Poppy's story a shot.

Ok now enjoy the last chapter of Stealing the Groom, which also happens to be the first book I have ever completely finished!

P.S: Check out the string quartet version of Romeo + Juliet's (The Leo D version) song called "Kissing You." ------>
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XXXIII: The Letter

THE JOURNEY BACK to Italy was quite seriously the most impossible task I have ever endured. For starters, I had to wait in the airport for almost two hours for an open seat because I had to change the time of my flight, and by the time I was actually able to board the plane I was in a horrid mood. 

It didn't make matters any easier that I kept looking behind myself, my eyes searching to see if I'd catch a glimpse of a pair of familiar brown eyes amongst the sea of tourists.

My heart ached; I wanted nothing more than to get home already so I could have myself a nice little cry and pig out on ice-cream as I watch, yet again, Dirty Dancing. 

Another set of bad news was that in exchange for changing my flight, I had to take one with multiple stops.

Once in Chicago, I was ready to get back on a plane for Europe when a severe snow storm hit. No planes were coming in or out, and to my misfortune I was trapped in the States for another day longer. 

Upon hearing about my predicament, my assistant decided to make the best of things and set up an appointment with an art gallery representative. Handling the logistics of the gallery’s purchase took a few more days, and by the time I was back in a first class seat flying over the Atlantic ocean, I had become a couple hundred thousand dollars richer. 

The second stop was in London. I took advantage of the trip and did some shopping in the airport as I waited for my flight to try and distract myself. 

Sitting down in a hard, plastic chair after passing by the security detail, I stared numbly at my new Pucci bag and felt nothing, not even an ounce of excitement. I felt dead inside, completely and utterly gutted out. 

I felt the cautionary sting in my eyes, and before I could let the hot, wet tears fall down my face I sat up straight and blinked them away. Taking the Pucci purse, I busied myself with transferring the contents of my messenger into the brand new leather bag. My hands stilled as I came across my phone. It was off, It had been since I ran out of battery on my way to the airport in New York. 

No use turning it on now, not if all I would find would be missed calls from my mother for daring to leave town without telling her. Stuffing it into the front pocket, I moved on until I ‘d gotten everything out of the old bag. Everything except an old, worn envelope.

My breath hitched when I realized what it was. Tears blurred my vision, and my hands shook as I slowly brought the envelope up for closer inspection.

It was the letter from Max that I’d found in his old locker at The Brew. With everything that had happened, it had completely slipped my mind to read it.

Now I wasn’t too sure I wanted to. 

My head snapped up as my flight was called to board the plane. Carefully placing the letter in my bag, I stood and carried my luggage. My legs kept moving forward, but my mind was elsewhere, high in the clouds and deep in the past.