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LENA The stress from last night had quite literally seeped into my bones like some kind of sickness. Between all the crying that left my throat raw, and the nightmares, I didn’t know where I was anymore. And by the time we boarded Vincenzo’s private jet, I already felt like a ghost of myself. The flight was hell on it’s own. Ten hours of dragging myself between the plush bed in the bedroom and the cramped bathroom at the back of the plane. While half the time I tried to sleep, curling into the blanket Vincenzo draped over me, the hum of the engines lulling me just enough to drift. The other half was me hunched over the toilet bowl with my hair held up by my dotting husband while I emptied whatever little food I managed to eat. I could tell Vincenzo was incredibly worried, I was too, beca
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