I don’t need to explain what I mean. She knows. I’ve talked about it since the day I decided to study nursing.
A huge smile spreads across Rosa’s face when she finally gets the proof she needed to believe I’m serious.
Working in the United Arab Emirates—regardless of the city—pays extremely well. Much more than any European city. The selection process is tough and the work is exhausting, but if that’s the price of fulfilling my dream and my mother’s, I’m more than happy to pay it.
“When?” she asks, eyes wide.
“A month before graduation. Applications opened and I applied.”
“You weren’t going to tell me?”
“I’m telling you now,” I say with a small smile.
She narrows her eyes at me, and I roll mine.
“I was waiting for the result of the first selection stage, but you were too anxious for that, weren’t you?”
“Tell me more.”
“If I’m approved—and I’m confident I will be—it’s eighteen months working in the Emirates. Any country would be fine, but Dubai would be ideal. That’s where they pay the most.”
“A year and a half?” she asks. The joy on her face dims noticeably. “Aren’t there shorter contracts?”
“No. But the money I’d make would be enough to add to what we already have and buy this house and the shop, Mom. It’s a small price. A very small one.”
My mother bites her lip and nods, even though she’s no longer as enthusiastic as she was moments ago.
“I wish you didn’t have to do this.”
“Wasn’t it you who wanted to know what my plans were?” I tease, trying to lighten the sudden heaviness in the room.
“But almost two years is a long time. You just got back.”
“It’s eighteen months for a lifetime, Mom. We’ll be able to start exactly where we want. Who knows—maybe afterward we can even go back to Italy to visit?”
She sighs, dreamy.
“And where does Nero fit into these plans of yours, Nina?”
“I like him,” I admit. “But he’s clearly not as interested as I assumed he was,” I add. “Whatever happens, he won’t be an obstacle.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
***
I clap a hand over my mouth the moment I grab my phone from the nightstand after waking up and see a new email notification.
Sitting on my bed, still in my pajamas and without even brushing my teeth, I blink at the screen.
My heart races wildly, and I’m sure that can’t be healthy—but I can’t stop it.
Not when, just a few hours after talking about the program in the Middle East, I receive the email with the result of the first stage of the selection process. It’s almost as if last night’s conversation summoned it.
Once I’m sure I’m not about to scream, I let my hand fall to my lap and take a deep breath. I tap the notification and open it.
My eyes race over the words, and when they reach“We are pleased to welcome you to the program…”I jump out of bed, screaming and bouncing without caring if I wake the entire neighborhood with my hysteria.
