“Staring is weird, Mama.” He turns, a smile tugging at his lips.
I shake my head. “I’m just looking at my baby. Can’t a mother do that anymore?”
“Of course you can, but you’re like…reallystaring.”
He mocks me,but the smile on his face melts me. “But you and Papa did make a handsome boy, if I do say so myself.”
A small pang hits my chest—quiet, subtle—but I push it aside.
“You’ve grown so much, amore mio. You’re almost a man now.”
He smirks. “I think I’ve been one for a while. You’ve just refused to see it.”
I laugh softly. “I know. But you’ll always be my little boy. The one who hated shoes and used to fall asleep on the kitchen floor. The one who had a massive obsession with a certain Italian girl.”
“Mom,” he groans. “I said she looked niceonce,and now you’re ready to marry me off.”
I laugh again. “Maria Faravelli has grown into a beautiful young lady. I think she’d be perfect for you. We know the family,and you won’t have to worry about a horrible mother-in-law. You love Marta—and so do I.”
“Of course you’d want me to date your best friend’s daughter. But I’m in no rush. And honestly, I don’t even know if I want to get married. It all seems so… tedious and boring.”
I sip my tea. “Do your father and I look bored? Marriage can be a wonderful adventure all on its own. You just need to find the right person to take life on with.”
He nods slowly. “But you and Papa chose each other. It wasn’t a forced arrangement. You got to pick. But for me, it feels like I need to make some kind of strategic decision.”
All the half-truths I’ve told him over the years settle over me like a shadow. Yes—we chose each other.
“And youcandecide, my boy,” I say gently. “You don’t have to choose someone we like. The woman you marry should be someone you love, someone you care for. Love is wonderful, but friendship—that foundation—that’s what lasts.”
He nods. “And what if I choose someone you hate?”
I lift a shoulder. “Then I’ll have to learn to love her—for your sake. Most of the time, we don’t get to choose who we love. It just… happens. Out of nowhere. Like a sucker punch to the gut, knocking all the wind out of you.”
Much like Matteo and me, all those years ago on the rooftop. Who knewthatwould be our beginning?
He chuckles softly, then the sound fades. His gaze lingers on me, searching.
“You’ve been different lately,” he says. “Like something’s on your mind.”
I look away. Just for a moment.
“I just want to be sure I’ve said the things that matter,” I say quietly. “In case one day, I don’t get the chance.”
His brow creases. “Don’t say that.”
I reach for his hand, cover it with mine. “Life happens, my love. One minute someone is there and the next they aren’t. It’s fast and quick, much like when your grandmother died.”
I don’t think about my mother often, but when I do, it always puts a pit in my stomach. She was getting better one day and the next she was gone… just like that.
He watches me, silent. Truthfully, I have been thinking about life a lot lately and how fickle it can be. This world that we have chosen to live in can take it all away in the blink of an eye.
“I want to make sure you carry the right things forward.” I squeeze his fingers once. Grounding. Certain.
“You know how much Matteo loves you,” I say. “He always has.”
He nods without hesitation. “Yeah. Of course.”
I study him—so much of me in him. The way his eyes light when he’s excited. The crease in his brow when he’s deep in thought.
