Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Wait—did you actually do that?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I chuckled.
“I had to send the invoice via PayPal because we don’t take Venmo here in Italy yet.”
I snort-laughed. “I’m really glad you called.”
“What has you down?”
“It’s sort of a long story, but basically, I made an honest mistake and Matteo got hurt.”
“Did you use his toothbrush after eating Oreos?”
“No.”
“Did you yell out the wrong name in bed?”
“God, no.”
“Then he can get over it. What does he have to say for himself?”
“That’s the thing. He hasn’t called or come by in two days. I was trying to give him space but—”
“Space? He’s Italiano. We don’t give each other space. We yell. We fight. We call each other every curse name in the book, maybe set a spell on your mother. Then we make mad, passionate love.”
I smiled through a sigh. “Maybe you’re right, and I should go over there.”
“You love him?”
My heart squeezed. “I do.”
“Then you fight for him, yes?”
“You know what? You’re right.”
“Get used to it, big sister. I’m always right.”
I chuckled again. “Thanks. What time next Saturday?”
“Seven. But call me if you want to talk before then—maybe after you take your chicken ass over to your hot boyfriend’s.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Camilla.”
“Ciao!”
***
I almost turned around.
After an entire day of making excuses as to why I should wait to go next door, the time had finally come. The sun was setting. The workers were gone. And I’d baked peanut butter brownies that smelled so good I was tempted to eat the whole plate myself.
But instead, I walked up the gravel path and stood in front of Matteo’s door for far too long. My hand hovered near the wood while my brain spiraled. What if I’d broken something that couldn’t be fixed? What if he still didn’t want to see me?
Before I could second-guess myself anymore, I took a deep breath and knocked.
There was a long pause that made me even more anxious, if that were possible, before the door creaked open.
Matteo stood there, barefoot, in a soft gray T-shirt and jeans. His hair was slicked back and wet like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and he looked tired. The expression on his face was unreadable.
“Ciao,” I said, holding up the brownies like a peace offering. “I made you something. It’s not from my grandmother’s recipes, but I swear they taste good anyway.”
Matteo put on a smile that looked like it had gotten lost halfway to his face. But he did step back. “Come in.”
I followed him into the house. It felt as quiet as mine had the last few days. “I wasn’t sure if I should come,” I said, setting the brownies on the kitchen counter. “But I needed to say I’m sorry again. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Matteo. If I’d known what that set would—”
He shook his head, cutting me off. “I know you didn’t know. You were just being thoughtful.”
I blew out an audible breath. “I still feel really awful.”
He didn’t respond to that, just leaned against the kitchen counter looking at me. Finally, he asked, “How’d your call go?”
I swallowed. “Good. They offered me a partnership to join them.”
He nodded once. “That’s a big deal, yes? You spent six years working for the last opportunity.”
“Yeah.”
Silence stretched between us.
“I’m going to turn it down,” I said.
His eyes flickered to mine, but he stayed quiet, seeming to wait for me to continue.
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I love practicing law, but I don’t want to go back to working the way I did. The offer they made was generous, but it came with a lot of expectations. I’m thinking it’s time for…a change.”
He looked at me. “What kind of a change?”
“I don’t know. Open my own small firm, maybe? So many things can be done remotely since the world changed during the pandemic—hearings, arbitrations, depositions. Some divisions even allow oral arguments to be done without stepping foot in the courthouse.” I paused to get up the courage to say what I really wanted to say. “I was thinking I’d still go back and forth to New York, but I want to be here, too.”
Matteo looked down, ran a hand through his hair. “Take the job,” he said quietly.
I blinked. “What?”
“Take it,” he repeated, softer this time. “I don’t want you to make decisions because of me. I cannot be the one to keep you here. You’ll be unhappy in the long run.”
“You don’t know that…”
He met my eyes. “And you don’t either.”
The words stung. Because he wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t possibly know what the future held. But I couldn’t imagine one without him. He wasn’t being unkind. He was being honest.
My eyes filled with tears. “I’m in love with you, Matteo.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let things go so far. It was a mistake.”