Chapter Five

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CHAPTER FIVE

“Hey, Cart.”

“Mhm?”

“How did you manage to find me the other night?”

Carter, who had been focused on something else, looked up at me. Currently, we were eating breakfast at a cute little restaurant near the hotel, called Luogo di Carlo. There’s a devious smirk on his face as he goes on to answer my question, “Well, there’s a tracking device fitted into your phone. It’s there because I asked for it to be put there, I needed to make sure I knew where you were at all times so I don’t lose you. Last night I started to worry when you didn’t come back in time, and since I knew you weren’t that far away from the hotel, I decided to walk the way. But I regretted not taking a cab as soon as I had walked a block or two, as you seemed to be stuck in the same place for a while, so I rushed to where you were.”

“Wait; what? You put a tracking device in my phone?! What the hell? What for?” I ask, not knowing how to feel about the whole situation.

He rolls his eyes, “Because I need to know where you are at all times, Ava, who cares why? That device helped me track you down last night, and apparently saved you from what would have been the worst night of your life.”

“Which reminds me, how is your palm?” I ask, reaching out to grab his left arm. When I get a hold of it, I spread his fingers apart and look at his still bandaged hand.

“It’s getting better, don’t worry about it.” Carter says hurriedly, and I decide to trust what he is saying.

The rest of the day was spent packing for the journey, as we were going back home. We had actually originally planned to stay a week longer, but Carter said he needed to be back home today. He never really told me why, just said it was important.

I had decided not to push him further on the subject, as he seemed genuinely worried about the matter. Well, that and the fact that I feel like I’ve burdened him enough due to the injury he had sustained from the incident that took place the other night.

It didn’t take long, but we were soon back at the Richmond residence. “Ah! Mr.Carter! What are you doing back so early?” Anita asks, as she helps the driver unload the luggage Carter and I brought back from Rome.

“You can’t expect me to stay in Rome, especially when you and I both know what today is.” He tells her ,and continues up the stairs towards our room, with some luggage in each hand.

“Miss Ava, come, let me help you with that.” Anita says, taking my bags out of my hand, “You must be hungry, do you want me to get dinner ready?” she asks, her voice filled with concern.

I shake my head, “It’s alright, Anita. I’m fine.” I glance at the staircase where Carter had gone up a while ago, “Uh, Anita, can I ask you something?”

Anita nods, “Yes, what is it, Miss Ava?”

“What is so important about today? Why did Carter need to be home for today of all days?”

There’s a grim look that crosses Anita’s features that ages her more than it should. She’s quiet for a while, as if she’s deciding on whether or not to tell me, “I think you should ask Mr. Carter about that, Miss Ava. It is not my place to tell you.”

I sigh, “What? Did someone die today?” I ask sarcastically.

“Do not joke about death, Miss Ava. Especially around Mr. Carter, and especially on this day.”

I deduce from the reaction Anita at my mindless comment that someone did die today but I just don’t know who that person is. I walk up the stairs leading up to the second floor, I then turn and open the door to our bed room. “Cart?”

“What?” Carter comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. The water seems to be dripping slowly from his neck to his chest.

“Shit!” I cuss and turn my back towards him and stare at the door. “You could have said you were finished bathing, and how the hell can a guy bathe that fast? Did you even clean yourself properly?”

“Well, you can leave if you want, I honestly don’t care.”

I roll my eyes, “Ugh, Fine, I’ll go, I’ll talk to you la-” I’m cut off by something being thrown at the back of my head. The wetness of the object and the softness of it makes me scream because I know exactly what it was.

It was the towel Carter had around his waist a second ago. “What the hell, Cart! I said I’ll go, not to fucking strip for me!”

“Turn around, Ava.” He says calmly.

“No, I don’t want to see you naked, you sick-” I reply in disgust, but he cuts me off.

“I’m wearing pants, Ava. Stop overreacting.”

I turn around and see Carter wearing black casual slacks, but still shirtless, “You know what? I’ll just leave and you can get dressed by yourself.” I say turning back around.

“Ava, stop over reacting, it’s not like I like you; nor do you like me, but if you feel so damn uncomfortable, I’ll get a shirt on.” I hear some shuffling noises and he continues, “There, done. Now turn around.”

I do as I am told and I see him fully dressed. “Okay, well, I wanted to ask you about this before I was interrupted,” I take a deep breath because I expect this conversation to not end so well, “Well, who died today?”

His expression hardens, “What did you say?” he questions.

I take another deep breath to gather my courage, because God knows Carter is scary as hell with the expression he currently has on his face. “Well, I asked Anita, and she told me to ask you, and I joked about whether someone had died today, and she wore  this grim look on her face and she told me to go ask you, because it wasn’t her place to tell me what today was. So, who died today?”

He looks away and whispers something, but I manage to catch what he said. “My mother.”

My eyes widen, “Ohmygosh, I am so sorry, Cart. I didn’t realize-oh I’m such an idiot.”

He looks back up at me, “Is that all you wanted to ask me?” His hard expression hasn’t faded, if anything, it becomes harder.

“Will you be visiting her grave?”

He nods, “Yes, why? Do you want to come?” He asks. By now, his expression has softened and I feel better. At least he doesn’t look like he’s ready to murder me.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I kinda feel like an ass for not knowing your mother passed. I mean, I know I’m not your real wife, but I should have at least asked about your mom.”

There’s a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his lips, “Yeah, I don’t think she’ll mind, and I think it’s about time she met the new Mrs. Richmond.”

“You do know I’m not really your wife, right? I mean, you said it yourself.” I ask, part of me hoping he’ll go, ‘but you are now.’ and the other part expecting him to take back his offer and go alone.

He nods, “Well, yeah but if she were here, she’d kill me for not at least introducing you to her.”

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