I want so badly to give my heart away to her. All of it. Saving none of it for later, unsure of what she’ll do with it. No, I want her to have it all.
I don’t know what stops me. Maybe that fear I said I would ignore.
Maybe I just don’t want to ruin the moment. I feel like we just broke through something, something that we’ve both been battling for and battling against.
“It is me,” I tell her, leaning in to kiss her on the lips. I whisper against her mouth. “But please, do me a favor.”
“What?”
I bring my mouth to her neck, kissing her sweetly before I press my lips against her ear. “Please. If you find yourself falling in love with me, don’t stop it. Don’t hold back. Don’t deny yourself that. Let yourself love me.”
I pull back and pin her with my gaze, hoping she takes me seriously.
She’s blinking at me, seeming like she wants to say yes.
Then there’s a frantic tapping at the window, and I look up with a start.
A ferry worker is angrily motioning for us to go. During all of this, we completely missed the fact that we are supposed to be boarding.
“Spiacente!” I apologize to the worker and then quickly start the car, the engine roaring as we follow the line onto the lower deck of the ferry.
By the time we’re able to park the car and then go to the upper decks, the subject of love has been dropped.
But I haven’t forgotten.
I am in my studio, busying myself by rearranging things before I can get back to work on my sculpture, when I hear a car honk from outside.
I grin.
My boy is home.
I drop what I’m doing and stride out of the front doors to see Paolo’s mother waving goodbye to me as she drives off and Vanni running straight to me.
“Papà!” he yells, throwing himself around my waist and hugging me.
My chest absolutely aches. It’s been so long since Vanni has hugged me like this, and every passing day with him I’m reminded that he is becoming less of a boy and more of a man, and that I’ll never be able to go back in time and get my boy back. Perhaps in his world, time is something you can manipulate and control, but in this world, when you have a child, it moves entirely too fast.
“Hey, Vanni,” I say to him, careful not to dote on him too much. I don’t want his own affection to embarrass him. “It’s good to see you. Did you miss me?”
He pulls back, looking awkward. “A little.”
“A little is good enough for me. Are you hungry?”
“Yes!” he exclaims, running into the house. “I want to eat everything!”
“Vanni,” I call out after him, looking down at my feet at his bag that he didn’t bother to bring into the house. “Whatever.” I shake my head and pick it up. He’s becoming more of a man, but with none of the responsibility.
I carry his bag inside and head into the kitchen to find him staring with wild eyes into the fridge.
“Go relax. I’ll make you something,” I tell him.
He leans against the counter, grabbing a pear from the fruit bowl. “Where is Grace? She didn’t leave without saying goodbye, did she?”
He looks so worried that I almost laugh.
“No. She’s upstairs having a nap.”
“Whew,” he says, exhaling. Then he manages a small smile. “Grandma and Grandpa talked her ear off, didn’t they?”
“Actually, they weren’t so bad.” Especially after we got back from dinner. Grace wasn’t talking and didn’t come out to have drinks either. My parents could tell that something was wrong, but for once they didn’t press me about it. This morning though, Grace went out of her way to help my mother with breakfast, so at least she left on a high note.
“They were upset that you weren’t there,” I add.
“Grandma is always upset. I see her all the time.”
“Not all the time.”
“Once a month. That is all the time.”
“I thought you and time had a different relationship.”
He shrugs. “It’s all relative.”
I make Vanni a sandwich, and he tells me all about his days at Paolo’s. Apparently his parents just turned vegan, which is something Vanni didn’t know about, so he was starving the whole time (nevermind the fact that we eat vegetarian many times a week). He had fun, but Paolo is a shade more introverted than he is, so by the end he was bored. Said he’d rather have stayed here and hung out with Emilio.
I toy with the idea of telling him about Grace, especially since my parents already know about us. But I know this is a decision I need to make with her. Even though he is my son, I know she would see this as a betrayal again.
And what are you to her? Did you even find out?
I guess for all our conversation in the ferry line-up, we never really hammered out what this relationship is. Boyfriend and girlfriend, yes. But with a time limit and no clear future.
And, for now, still a secret in this house.
So after Vanni is done and says he’s going to go sit by the pool and play a video game on his iPad all day (apparently Paolo also isn’t allowed video games anymore), I decide to go upstairs and check on Grace. She seemed so tired when we finally got home. I’m sure crying like she did took it all out of her.
I knock gently on her door. “Grace?” I whisper.
I open it and poke my head in.
She’s lying on top of her bed on her side, back to me. I take a moment to stare at the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, the golden afternoon sun coming through the window.
Fuck it.
I’m in love with her.
The realization is so sharp, so swift, I feel like I’ve been stabbed in the heart with the sweetest blade.
Of course I am in love with her.
There was never any other way.
There was never another outcome.
She walked into my life, and I fell for her and that’s the way our story is written.
With me on my knees.
I take a deep breath, trying to fight the feeling, needing for it to stay buried for a while. I might feel this way, but she doesn’t. I can’t afford to scare her again.
I’m about to close the door and leave the room when she lifts her head.
“Claudio?” she whispers.
Yes, my love?
I clear my throat. “I was just checking in on you.”
She looks over her shoulder at me and then rolls over, yawning. She raises her arms above her head and then flops them down on the bed. “I was having such a strange dream.”
I walk in the room, shutting the door behind me. “Good strange or bad strange?”
“Good strange,” she says as I sit on the edge of the bed. She hoists herself up on her elbows. “You had finished your sculpture, but instead of being the model, I was the one encased in marble.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“And then I was at the bottom of the sea, with all these fish around me.”
“Even more terrifying.”
“Except I was a mermaid. You know, also. Perhaps that can be your next project?”
“You’ll inspire me forever, la mia musa, but your dream sounds more creepy than good.”
“No, it was good. I was happy. At the end, I broke free of the marble and I swam away. With my mermaid tail.”