"There isn't much to say. I grew up in New York with my parents until I was sixteen, then we moved to Los Angeles. During the last year of college I lost them in a plane crash." He paused looking at me.
"I'm sorry, baby."
"Thank you. It's been a long time, but I always carry them with me. I took over the family business after college and I am always on a journey to discover those who havethatspecial touch."
"Wow, so you never stop?" he asks as he goes to get the steaks from the fridge and seasons them with salt, rosemary, and garlic.
I get off the island, wash my hands, and continue to cut the vegetables. “I'm here, right? I stop every now and then."
"Hey, I should be cooking for you!" he complains, grabbing me by my hips.
"But cooking together is more fun!" I say leaning on him.
"True that. So tell me, how many hearts have you broken?"
I laugh nervously. “Not as much as you for sure. I only had one relationship that lasted almost a year."
"What happened? Too scared of you?"
"Hmmm ... no, he just got tired of waiting and I found him screwing my assistant."
"What a piece of shit!"
“I guess it's normal, but I don't like things imposed on me. Damian was a constant, and after yet another refusal he looked elsewhere."
"I'm sorry baby, but you don't have to justify his actions. He's not worthy."
“I'm not. The best thing after we broke up was that I went to Europe for two months and it was a unique experience."
"You won't run away from me too, I hope!" he says, hugging me.
"No, I do not think so. And what about you?"
“I had a happy childhood; my parents were the happiest couple in the world. I would like one day to have that important bond with someone,” he says as he begins to cook the veggies. I lean on the counter, looking at him. "When dad died, looking at mom and the emptiness in her eyes made me understand what love really is. After a week she had a heart attack. In college I met the guys, and we formed the band. It has always been a hobby. We've played in some bars, some parties or weddings, then a few years ago we dared a little more and here we are."
"What inspires you to write your songs?"
"It depends on my state of mind. A phrase exchanged with someone is enough to give me an idea."
“Who inspired you to write Only you?” I asked him and he paused, lost in his thoughts.
"Amber," he answers with a sigh.
"Your girlfriend?" I ask, trying not to sound pathetic.
“Amber and I were friends, before we gave each other a chance. Having her by my side was the best gift that life could give me,” he says with sad eyes, and I would just like to disappear. I'm jealous. “She had a passion for cars and for racing. And during a race she had an accident. After four months in a coma, she passed away."
"I ... I'm sorry," I say as I wash my glass and take the phone out, walking away in the living room.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"Matt, I ..." I say embarrassed.
"Don't do this, please, don't look for excuses to get away from me."
"I don't, it's just… you still love her Matthew, and don't deny it. The way you talk about her, she’s still here," I say touching his heart.
“Amber was something unique, I don't know if it was love. We were fine together. Seven years have passed since her death and the sense of guilt still haunts me. I should have stopped her."
