Angela met Noah’s eyes. Her nostrils flared and her lips pressed together, a sure sign she was holding in a laugh. Noah grinned. Angela always looked cute when she was trying not to laugh, which thankfully didn’t work that often. It was the first thing Noah fell in love with, backwhen they were young and first dating, and she’d made that face when Noah told a terrible joke.
He didn’t miss those days. Not exactly. And he didn’t exactly miss being married to Angela. But he missed the version of himself that had been married. A man whose life was on course. A man who knew what he was doing.
Not a man dwelling on a twenty-year-old unrequited crush while waiting in line for fried dough.
Finally they made it into the bakery.
“What d’you want, Jakey?” Noah asked. “Mozzarella and tomato?”
“Yeah!”
“What about you?” Angela asked.
“Hot salami?”
Angela ordered for them in halting Italian—when had she pickedthatup?—and Noah collected their orders.
“Don’t burn your—” Noah began, but Jake had already bitten into his panzerotti. He curled his lips back and breathed through his teeth.
“—mouth,” Angela finished. She met Noah’s eyes and they shared a long-suffering sigh at their son’s expense.
Noah bit into his own panzerotti—a pocket of fried dough filled with tomatoes and mozzarella and hot salami—far more carefully. The pastry was short and crunchy and salty, the filling spicy and savory, though he could feel the oil escaping the paper wrapping to trail down the outside of his hand. He should’ve grabbed napkins; instead, he had to lick it off.
They found a quiet spot of sidewalk to enjoy their panzerotti, Jake sitting on the curb, Noah and Angela standing above him.
“This is nice, huh?” she asked.
“Mm-hmm,” Jake mumbled around his food.
“I love how walkable it is here. Everything’s so easy to get to. Plus the subway.”
“Yeah.” Itwasnice.
If Milan hadn’t been so walkable, he never would’ve bumped into Ramin again.
“I don’t know if I’ll move here or close to Bellagio, like Nonno and Nonna. I’ve still got a lot to decide. Plus I need to figure out the whole school situation.”
Ah. She didn’t meanniceas in nice to visit. She meantniceas inWouldn’t it be nice if I moved here with Jake?
And maybe it would. Itwasnice here. Milan had a good vibe. Everyone seemed happy, and no one was in a rush (except for other tourists on their own Death March of Fun).
It was nice, but Noah didn’t want it to be. He wanted to argue with Angela. He wanted to point out that it was far from home. That none of them spoke the language. That Jake didn’t know anyone here. All his friends were back home. His school. Heck, Angela’s own parents and siblings were there!
Noah was, too.
But he had to be objective about this. Give Italy a fair shake.
He wasn’t his parents. He’d do what was best for Jake. He’daskJake and let him decide what was best for himself. Even if it hurt Noah.
That’s what being a dad meant.
eleven
Ramin
Twenty Years Ago
Ramin was crying.
