I grab two slices of pizza and place one on each plate. Then, I wait for Carla to reappear, relieved when she does so in baggy gray sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. I slide a plate over to her.
“Mangia,” I command. Eat.
She rolls her eyes but takes a bite, groaning.
My blood heats and I mentally berate myself.
“This was a good call,” she mumbles, smacking her lips together.
I drag my eyes away from her mouth and take another swig of my wine. “What time is your flight?” I ask, recentering the conversation.
“Eight p.m. tomorrow. What about you? Or are you in Chicago for a visit?”
“Tomorrow morning. Ten a.m. But I’m just heading back to New York. I’m going to stick around until B’s first day at her internship.”
Carla smiles. “Marlowe told me about her new position with URBN Move. That’s so cool. That brand is really on the come up.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “B’s worked hard over the past year. She’s leaned into streetwear fashion and trends, doubled down on social media platforms, and made a ton of connections bartending at Corcho.”
“That’s amazing. You must be proud of her.”
“I am,” I say, meaning it. “When she showed up in Valencia, Mamma’s passing was still fresh. Bianca was a little lost and had no clue what came next other than partying. But she found her footing, discovered a path she’s passionate about, and now landed this creative marketing internship. It took some time, but she found her way.”
I let the words, all true, hang between us. Bianca and Carla are nearly the same age and their experiences, while different, are woven with similar threads. The grief of loss, the uncertainty of the future, the determination to forge a new path.
Carla’s quiet for a moment and from the little crease that appears between her eyebrows, I know she’s really listening to my words, not just hearing them. “Gracias, Luca. For coming tonight. For…everything.”
I dip my head. “Anytime, mia cucciola.”
At her shaky inhale, I look up. Her gaze is filled with curiosity but threaded with a vulnerability that knocks me off center.
And I see her. The fully-grown woman. A little lost, a little uncertain. But also, hopeful. Resilient. Fucking beautiful.
My chest tightens. I clear my throat, steadying my voice. “I’ll always show up for you. You’re family, Carla.”
She blinks and her smile wobbles. “Right. Family first.”
3
Carla
January 14
Luca
I’m back in Valencia. Hope you’re settling in. If you need anything, I’m here.
I smile at his thoughtful message, my thumb hovering over the keypad. Luca never told my brother about how I fell apart after the gala. For that, I’m grateful.
But, as much as I probably do need someone to talk to, I don’t know what the hell to say. These days, I’m still a bit in shock that my life has taken such a drastic turn. I feel…adrift. Even when I’m in the midst of my loud, nosy family, I feel separate. Apart.
January 16
Vale
I miss you! I hate that our time zone difference is six hours now instead of one. Womp. What are you up to?
Carla
