• FIVE • A Taste of Indulgence

Samantha examined her face in the mirror. Her left eye was bruised, and her face was swollen. She covered it the best she could with makeup and then, unsatisfied and exasperated, snagged the largest pair of sunglasses she owned. She eyed a scarf hanging on the wall, then dismissed it, afraid that in the effort of trying not to draw attention to herself, she would inadvertently draw even more.

Richard never came back home last night. No call, no text, no apology, just silence. A pit had settled in her stomach from his absence, but she was also relieved because she didn't want to see him right now. She was afraid to ask him to leave, unsure how he would react.

It left her feeling restless and fighting the need to get out of here against the urge to curl into a miserable ball and disappear. Thoughts of going to sleep and never waking up teased the peripheral of her consciousness, but she refused to let them settle.

Unsure where to go, after driving aimlessly for almost an hour, she found herself downtown and maneuvered the car into one of the smaller parking garages. It was open and less daunting than the larger ones, although it was further away.

Richard had bought the BMW X3, but the somber Phytonic Blue Metallic he chose lacked the cheery personality of the one she originally wanted in the Sao Paulo Yellow. He claimed the bright color was ‘unprofessional’.

This whole little excursion felt like she was doing something wrong. She had budgeted herself so strictly the past few years, trying to save every penny she could towards buying out Uncle Eddie. Growing up with frugal parents and being mostly self-sufficient in college, combined with studiously saving, left her uneasy about frivolously spending money. She thought about the bills Richard had thrown down that she'd hesitated about picking up off the floor this morning.

She was stubborn and spiteful enough not to spend them. But she wasn't going to sit at home and cower, waiting for him to return, so she decided to compromise and treat herself to a nice lunch she wouldn't normally indulge in. It felt extremely selfish, but after last night, she decided she had the right to be.

Fuck him, she thought. He wanted her to entertain herself and give her money to play, then she would.

She remembered Richard’s barb about not having any friends. They had each moved on with their careers and families, and she felt like they had outgrown her as the distance between them widened. She had canceled plans too many times when Richard had needed her, so eventually, they stopped asking.

After she parked, she made it out to the street with her shame hidden firmly behind her sunglasses. She couldn't comprehend that this was the same city she walked in every other day before this. The sights and smells were still the same, but everything felt so different.

The raw, unfiltered noises of the busy street assaulted her ears, and the quick movements of the people around her made her jump. She focused on the lines of cars as their stop-and-go patterns were dictated by the lights on every corner. It gave the surrounding chaos a semblance of organization that helped soothe her.

She spied a little Italian place with small tables outside behind a low wooden fence that had colorful flowers in planter boxes along the top. A sign above the striped awning read Abbaticchio in swooping black letters on a stark white background, and there was a stylized rendering of a priest. 

The smells of garlic and bread seeping out had her mouth watering. She asked the hostess for an outdoor seat so she wouldn't have to remove her shades. She had seen this place many times, but it was a fine establishment with a carefree, old-world feel to it, which meant it was too expensive for her to enjoy alone, and not good enough for Richard or his clients, so she never booked here.

It was perfect for today, though.

She ordered the Cozze al Vino Bianco, a light dish of mussels in a garlicky white wine, and paired it with a 2022 Terlan Quarz Sauvignon Blanc. She was delighted by the complex notes of citrus, mango, and tropical fruits when the server poured a sample, and she nodded, indicating she was pleased with the selection.

With all the turmoil inside, she began finding a bit of peace in quietly observing the crowd around her. She felt unseen yet still a part of the whole. How long had it been since she'd done this? Just sat alone and took in the world around her? Somewhere along the way, she'd gone from being confident and comfortable on her own to a nervous wreck of constantly ensuring Richard was content and happy.

In a concentrated effort to be loving and strong and supportive, she'd lost herself. She yearned for those days; she felt adventurous and untouchable, so she refused to let the hell that had become her life darken this beautiful afternoon.

Samantha enjoyed her wine and grazed on her antipasto as she watched the busy flow of customers begin to trickle down. Only a few tables still had people at them. One table at the far corner of the patio had a dark-eyed man in an expensive suit who had been there when she came in. He had been seated with a few others, including a sandy-haired man who seemed energetic, a sharp contrast to the solemn man before her now. 

She could see by the way they interacted that even though they deferred to him, they were still friends. The others had left with the main lunch crowd, and now he was busy as he rotated between talking and typing away on his phone.

After two glasses, she let the server talk her into one more. She knew she shouldn't, but she was reluctant to let go of this moment of peace she'd managed to capture.

She found herself repeatedly drawn back to watching the man as he worked. Something about him fascinated her and stirred an attraction that cut through the fog of years of suppressed hurt, anger, and neglect.

Samantha must have stared at him a little too hard, or a little too long, because he startled her when his head snapped up and his eyes locked onto hers. She found herself paralyzed, unable to tear her eyes away from his powerful gaze.

And although a myriad rush of emotions seemed to fill her, fear of him wasn’t one of them.