"Hmm, I see," he said as if reading my thoughts on my face, which he probably did. "Do you know whether she felt the same for you?"I looked him square...in the eyes. He either assumed my silence showed the level or he read me again."I do apologize, but your response may tell me more than you know. Please, do you know how she felt for you?"I broke eye contact and shrugged again. "I thought I did, but I was wrong. I wanted to take our relationship to the next level, a more intimate level, but she. The women who lived here don’t like any woman, who wasn’t just like them. I can just picture a contingent of Sicilian Italian women marching down to her apartment, dragging her out by her long, lush hair, and making her an offer that she couldn’t refuse to accept. We never saw her leave. One day she was still there and the next day she was gone. Had we known she was moving, we all would have helped her pack. Yet, why would she even bother painting her apartment, if she knew she was leaving,. More

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