I introduced the two and saw they immediately liked each other. That had been pretty likely—Olga loved fashion and charming, handsome men.
“He’s gay, I think,” she whispered to me as we walked down the corridor. “Good thing he can’t understand us.”
“I’m going to disappoint you right there—the word ‘gay’ is the same in many languages, so I think he might just have gotten a hint there,” I whispered back.
Passing my former room, I recalled Massimo’s words as he spoke to me about our first times together and the surprises he had left for me. “Wait a second,” I said, grabbing the handle.
I went inside, feeling strangely anxious. Everything was… mine. So familiar. Untouched. Only the sheets had been changed, and the closet emptied of my things. There was a black envelope lying on the bed. I sat down on the edge of the bed and opened it. Inside there was a voucher for a luxury spa and a short note: Whatever you like. I hugged the note to my chest, already missing my Man in Black.
He could surprise me even when he wasn’t around. I took out my phone and called him.
“We’ll be at the end of the corridor,” Domenico said, pulling Olga along. Three rings later, I heard the familiar voice.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I breathed to the receiver.
“Me too, baby girl. Something happened?”
“No. I just found the envelope and wanted to thank you.”
“Only one?” he asked, surprised.
“There’s more?”
“You have to do better, Laura. There was more than one first time for us. Has Olga joined you already?”
“Yes, thank you, we’re already home.”
“Have fun. And don’t worry—everything is going great.”
I hung up and went to search for the other surprises.
I could think of at least a few options, but I didn’t know where to begin. It would be logical to retrace the steps of our recent past.
“The library,” I whispered, and headed that way. There was another black envelope on the seat of the armchair where I had sat that first night. I opened it and found a credit card with another note: Spend it all. Oh, God, I didn’t even want to think how much money was on that thing.
Then I went to the garden, where I first kissed Massimo. I found another black envelope on the canopied beach sofa. Inside, an invitation to our wedding and the few words I wanted to hear: I love you. I pressed the envelope to my chest and went back to the house in search of my friend and Domenico. I found them standing on the terrace of the bedroom located at the end of the corridor, not far away from my old room. It appeared that they both liked each other.
“Champagne for late breakfast,” Olga said, rising a glass of Moët Rosé. “Your mafioso did his homework.”
She pointed to a huge vase filled with ice, with several bottles of my favorite drink sticking out. Domenico shrugged apologetically, passing me a glass of tomato juice.
“I ordered two nonalcoholic sparkling wines from France, but they won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“That’s okay,” I said, sitting in a large white armchair. “I can do without alcohol for a few months.”
Olga pushed herself into the seat, pressing me into the armrest.
“Why, though? If you’re about to get married and Massimo knows nothing about the child, you should pretend everything’s normal. A bit of champagne-flavored sparkling water won’t kill you.”
I was afraid of the thought of having to rearrange my whole life, fully submitting to the needs of someone who hasn’t been born yet. And that was just the beginning. I knew the most difficult part would come in a few months.
“Domenico, I’d like to have lunch in town. Would you book us something?”
He poured another glass for my friend and left.
“Why didn’t you tell Massimo about the kid?”
“As long as he doesn’t know, I have a choice. I didn’t want this child, Olga. But I also know I won’t be able to get rid of it. Besides, Massimo was just about to leave, and I didn’t want him to change his plans because of me. I’ll tell him after the wedding.”
“You think he’ll be happy?”
For a moment I stayed quiet, looking out to the sea. “I know he’ll be. You could say that this unplanned pregnancy was his plan.”
I grimaced, shrugging, while Olga kept staring at me. “The fuck does that mean?”
I told her how I got the “implant” and about our first night on the yacht, explaining why he had lied to me. I also told her that this had all happened during my fertile days, and about the test that had shown nothing.
“So I think, however stupid this sounds, that I got pregnant when we made love for the first time.”
Olga sat in silence for a couple of seconds, mulling over the story, before taking a sip from her glass and saying, “I don’t want to sound like some crazy fortune-teller, but you know these things don’t happen very often. So maybe it’s fate? Maybe it just had to happen? You used to tell me everything in life happens for a reason. Have you thought about a name yet?”
“It all happened so fast, I haven’t had the chance yet.”
“Polish or Italian?”
I looked at her, trying to come up with an answer. “I don’t know yet. I’d probably like both at the same time, but I’ll wait for Massimo. Let’s not talk about this anymore. Come on, let’s grab something to eat.”
We spent the afternoon talking and reminiscing about our childhood. We had always known that we’d become mothers someday, but the plan was to… well, plan it, instead of counting on a happy accident. It was late when we returned home, and Olga was clearly tired.
“Come sleep with me tonight,” I said, making begging-puppy eyes.
“Sure thing, darling.”
I grabbed her by the hand and pulled her with me upstairs. She stopped, dumbfounded, as soon as we entered my apartment.
“Ho-ly shit,” she said with that natural charm of hers. “How much money does he have, Laura?”
I shrugged and took the stairs to the mezzanine.
“I don’t have any idea, but probably a fuckload. It’s really a bit overwhelming, but I got to tell you one thing—you get used to all the luxury real fast. I’ve never asked him for anything, though. I didn’t have to—he gets me everything I need.”
We sat on the bed, and I pointed to the opened door leading to the closet. “Want to see something really excessive? Go in there. You could buy a couple of apartments in Warsaw if you sold those clothes.”
I followed Olga through the door. The light flashed on, revealing the enormous space in all its glory. The wall opposite the door was lined with shelves filled with expensive shoes—Louboutin through Prada. There was a rolling ladder affixed to the shelves, allowing me to pick even those pairs that were on the very top. In the middle of the room there was an illuminated cabinet with watches, sunglasses, and jewelry, and above it hung a gigantic crystal chandelier. The interior of the room was black, the individual sections divided by tall mirrors. My things took up the right side, and Massimo’s the left. There was a comfy padded leather armchair by the door to the bathroom. Olga collapsed on it, shocked.