I quickly flip open the menu, scan the page until I find the gnocchi section, and point to the picture of the dish I want, hoping for universal recognition. He nods, writes something down on his notepad, and disappears.
I settle back, glass of water in hand, and watch the way the man at the table across from mine hands a small plate to his daughter, who carefully tucks a napkin into her lap. The way the couple in the corner shares a single slice of pizza, leaning in close to take turns biting—gross.
Life is so different here. There are no phones buzzing, or people rushing to finish a meal, everyone is living at a slower pace and intentionally being more present. That’s what my life has been missing—presence.
The waiter returns with a plate of pillowy gnocchi in a pale butter sauce and a small carafe of wine. When I take my first bite I close my eyes and have to hold back a moan. It’s warm, soft, and exactly what I’ve been craving. I close my eyes briefly, letting it sink in.
But I’m interrupted by the buzz of my phone. I don’t open my eyes, wanting to stay in the moment as I try to ignore it, but when it goes off for a third time I reluctantly pull it out.
“How the hell is this thing even on,” I mutter as I punch in my passcode. “I remember turning it off before I left my hotel…”
My appetite quickly fades as I stare down at the notifications. Missed calls from Gabriel and my brother, a couple from Eliana, and even one from my mother, though she doesn’t usually leave messages.
My chest tightens.
Gabriel’s name flashes on my screen as a call comes in and that alone makes my stomach twist. I want to pick it up, explain myself, but the truth is complicated. I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want to unspool everything yet. I can feel him waiting, probably angry or hurt, but I need space to breathe in a city where no one expects me to perform or explain myself.
But regardless of my justification, there’s one person I feel like I actually owe an answer to.
My brother, Zale.
I thumb out a quick message.
Zalea:
I’m okay. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.
I hit send, then turn the phone face down on the table and stare out at the rooftops again.
“Freedom tastes like gnocchi and wine,” I whisper to myself.
I pour out the contents of the small carafe into my glass and I’m surprised to find it tastes stronger than I expected. I wonder if the Italians would judge me for ordering tequila instead. I shrug, laugh softly at myself, and wave the waiter over.
“Another,” I say, pointing to the empty carafe.
He nods with a smile and hurries off, and once again my phone pulls me out of the moment. It’s no longer buzzing, it’s now blaring loud notification chimes.
What the hell?
I quickly flip it over and nearly throw it when I see it operating on its own. I watch as the notes app opens and a message is typed out.
Answer your phone, Z.
Goosebumps crawl up my arm as I stare down at the three words, and I physically jump when my phone rings and Gabriel’s name pops up on the screen again.
He hacked into my phone?
I quickly type back a simpleNo.
Don’t start a game of cat and mouse with me, baby. You know I’ll win.
An uneasy feeling creeps in as I stare down at his warning, coupled with a tightness
Are you out of your mind?
Just a little bit.
I should report you for hacking into my private devices without my permission, Gabriel.
