Alessia's POV
I had to admit I was helpless at the moment - there was no one I could turn to.
Driving away into the night, my throat was raw from crying and my eyes were swollen, the tears having dried into salty tracks on my cheeks. I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to clear my blurry vision.
But I couldn't afford to stop the car, not yet. I had to leave the country for good if I wanted my baby and me to live, but how? How could I leave without my dad's alert? My head kept swirling with these questions as I drummed my fingers anxiously on the steering wheel.
My phone beeped, and I was startled, hitting the brakes; the screeching sound almost bleeding my ears. I jerked forward, my heart racing.
"What the heck is wrong with you? Do you want to cause an accident?!" a driver yelled, shaking his fist out the window.
"Are you drunk?" another said, glaring at my car before driving past. I winced and waved apologetically.
I pulled over to the side of the road, the tires crunching on the gravel. I got out, taking deep breaths of the cool night air, trying to calm my racing thoughts and then leaned against the car, feeling the metal cool beneath my forehead. I might lose my mind at this rate. I had to be practical, for my baby's sake.
I looked at my phone, and saw what had beeped earlier was the reminder of my dinner date with Derek.
I smashed the phone on the road, the screen shattering into a thousand pieces. "Fuckkkk!" I screamed my frustration boiling over. I had just ruined my phone but I shrugged, it was for the better I might be tracked with it.
Passersby stared awkwardly, and I covered my face, afraid about being recognized. I grabbed my bag and retrieved the scissors I had kept on the passenger seat, shoving them into my bag as I walked away from my car I was going to abandon, I couldn't afford to be traced.
Going to seat on a bench, I pulled out my snacks, and devoured it while gazing up at the night stars. After eating, I felt a little better and hailed a taxi. The driver looked at me warily but didn't ask questions as he started driving.
I gazed out the window, lost in thoughts as the car sped down the road. The driver's voice jolted me back to reality. "Ma'am, you haven't told me where to drop you."
I took a deep breath and replied calmly, "Drop me off at any affordable hotel close by."
The driver nodded thoughtfully. "There aren't many cheap hotels around here. Unless... I take you to a motel?"
I hesitated for a moment before responding, "I just need a place to lay my head for a few days. I don't have much on me."
The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror before speaking. "Alright, I'll take you to the Moonlight Motel. It's quite cheap." He smiled, showing stained teeth.
I muttered a thank you and rested my head against the seat, closing my eyes. The driver's whistling was annoyingly loud, but it was also strangely soothing. I was too stressed to care.
The taxi eventually came to a stop, and the driver smiled at me. "Here we are."
I looked out the window and saw the neon sign creaking in the wind, the letters faded and worn. The building itself was dilapidated, with peeling brown paint and broken shutters. My heart sank as I wondered why the driver had brought me to this rundown place.
I paid the driver for his service, and stepped out onto the rough, uneven road. The driver's parting smile did little to reassure me as I gazed up at the motel's sorry state. What had I gotten myself into?
As I entered the motel, I was hit with the smell of stale air and worn carpets. The interior was just as rundown as the exterior, and I couldn't help but wonder why the driver had brought me here. A shrill voice greeted me from behind the counter, and I turned to see a woman with a painted-on smile.
"Hello, ma'am," she said, gesturing for me to approach. "Walk faster, please." Her tone was brusque, and I wondered what her problem was.
"You're here for a room, right?" she asked, her eyes darting between me and the guy who had just walked in. I nodded slowly, taking in the surroundings. "Okay, we have one room left. Hurry up and pay so I can give you the keys," she said with a wink. "Women supporting women."
Before I could ask about the room's condition, the guy pushed forward, asking for a room. I quickly handed over the cash, eager to secure a place to rest. "Can I have the keys?" I asked.
The woman counted the money and handed me the keys with a smile. "Room number 004."
As I turned to leave, I caught her handing the guy another key. My eyes narrowed. Had she lied to me?
I pushed aside my doubts and climbed the creaky stairs, locating room 004. Despite the motel's shabby exterior, the room was surprisingly clean, though small.
I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. Before I knew it, I dozed off.
The following morning, I woke up to a pounding headache. My eyes darted to the small calendar on the side table and landed on the date.
January 25th, my wedding was just a day away, and my dad would stop at nothing to find me before then. I had to leave the country, I needed help but who could I trust?
As I rummaged through my bag, a card on the floor caught my eye. It was Matteo's card, which I thought I'd discarded. Desperate, I decided to call him, despite reservations about trusting him.
Downstairs, I used the motel's landline to call Matteo. My heart racing with each ring, I hesitated before telling him my location. He didn't seem surprised.
"Where are you?" he asked. I told him, and he promised to come right away. I wondered if I had made a mistake, but it was too late now.
Waiting for Matteo, I sat in the lobby, my eyes fixed on the clock. When he arrived, his furrowed brows and piercing gaze made me feel uneasy. "Let's talk upstairs," I suggested, trying to maintain my composure.
When we got into the room I closed the door gently.
Matteo's eyes scanned the room. "Why did you bring me to a motel room?" He asked raising a brow.
"No, no, it's not what you think," I said hastily, waving my hands in front of me.
He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "What do you think I'm thinking?"
I felt my face grow hot as I struggled to find the right words. "I just feel you're misunderstanding the whole situation."
"Like?" he prompted, his voice low.
I hesitated, my eyes darting around the room. What was wrong with Matteo, was he looking for a fight?
"If what you think are my thoughts, I know you think much better of me than bringing me to a place like this," he said, his eyes gaze not leaving mine. I could swear I saw a smirk playing on his lips.
I bit back a retort, wondering how the conversation had taken this turn. Matteo's presence seemed to fill the small room, making me feel trapped.
"Never thought you'd actually call for real," he said, stepping backwards and I let out a silent breath.
"But since I'm here, I need to know why." He added.
I fidgeted slightly, my hands clasped together in front of me. My mind raced for a convincing story, I hadn't thought of one.
I sat on the bed, trying to appear calm, but Matteo's gaze was like that of a detective.
Then I thought of the perfect story; it wasn't forged. It was the truth–the partial truth.
"The thing is, I need help to leave the country unnoticed," I finally said.
Matteo's frown deepened. "Why?" he asked.
I stood up, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "It's kind of complicated. My parents arranged my marriage with my fiance, and I don't actually love him."
Matteo scoffed in disbelief. "That's impossible."
I stood up and took a step forward. "It sounds weird, but that's the truth. I thought I could try to love him, and all of that was just an act."
Matteo's gaze didn't waver. "You don't look like you were forced to get engaged. You both look happy together from your posts and all."
I was taken aback. "You're on social media?" I asked, surprised. I had searched for Matteo on every social media platform I could think of, but he'd never popped up – which made me think he was an oddball.
Matteo grunted. "Don't change the topic here."
I sighed, feeling frustrated. "Look, I know it sounds unbelievable, but I'm telling the truth."
Matteo's expression remained skeptical. "I don't believe you, not even for a second. Make it make sense, Miss."
My voice cracked as I spoke. "It's how it is. I even found out he was cheating on me…with my best friend. No one understands how it hurts or how much I don't want to have anything to do with him."
Matteo's countenance changed, his eyes flashed with anger– and sadness. I wasn't sure what had triggered that reaction, but it was clear my words had hit a nerve.
Just as I was about to continue, a loud knock on the door interrupted us. "Who's there?" I asked, irritation rising in my voice.
"The cashier downstairs," the voice replied, and I went to open the door.
"Your money for the room just expired." The young lady said.
I felt annoyed. "What?! I thought it would last till evening."
The cashier's expression was stoic. "According to the account, you have to renew the payment or vacate the room, ma'am."
Matteo intervened, his voice calm. "It's fine, she'll vacate the room in ten minutes."
The cashier nodded and left. I turned to Matteo, confusion evident on my face. "What do you mean by that?"
He shoved his hands into his pocket. "Why don't you come to my place? Let's continue
our conversation there."
I was taken aback. "Huh?"
Matteo's expression was unreadable. "My place. It's better than staying here."