You can say no, if you want. I’ve just been thinking about asking for a while. If we try it and you don’t like it, we never have to do it again.
Matteo
In fact, you can hang up on me mid-call and I won’t even be offended.
Matteo
But if you don’t mind it, this could be a good way for you to see the twins, too. They’d be able to start recognizing you and your voice.
My fingers hover above the screen, teeth capturing my bottom lip as I consider how to reply. I want to say yes, but I don’t know if I can. He makes some good points. Trying once doesn’t mean committing to doing it again. If I hate it, I can hang up. And seeing my niece and nephew more will always be appealing. If I can’t betetyaAnya in person, I’d like to do my best at doing it virtually.
Matteo
Shit, did that sound pushy? I don’t mean to make it seem like I’m using them to coax a yes out of you. Like I said, I’ve just been thinking about it, so I had reasons it could be nice built up LOL.
I laugh under my breath, realizing that he might be just as nervous as I am with all those back to back messages. Keeping that in mind, I finally decide how to respond.
Anya
You’re sure you won’t be upset if I have to hang up?
He replies in an instant.
Matteo
Absolutely not! You can literally hang up if my face annoys you or if my voice sounds weird. Any reason at all, I promise.
I can’t imagine anyone has ever found his face to be annoying.
How could they?
Anya
I don’t think your face is going to annoy me. But I’m not sure if it will be overwhelming or not.
I’m not sure, but I think I want to try either way.
Trying things is a victory whether you fail or not. Progress is a step in the right direction, even if you need to take a break in the middle of your journey.
Inhaling slowly, I straighten my shoulders and move out of my closet to sit at my vanity. I was putting away my folded laundry when Matteo texted—a regular part of keeping my space clean and tidy.
Sending a quick following text, I prop my phone up against my mirror and flatten down my hair on either side of my face. The warm bubble lights surrounding the vanity desk brighten up my reflection; not too stark against my fair complexion.
My text stares back at me as I try to act natural.
Anya
Call now before I talk myself out of trying.
In less than two short breaths, my phone buzzes. The video call chime goes off, and I wait for familiar panic symptoms to hit but nothing comes. My stomach doesn’t drop with dread, andmy throat doesn’t go tight. Hands steady and unshaken, I reach forward and hit answer.
Matteo’s face fills my screen in a whoosh, his bright blue eyes capturing my attention before anything else. His roguish brown hair is styled in that almost messy sort of way, and he’s wearing a black button down that’s split down the middle, exposing a small section of his bare chest.
I open my mouth to say hello, but can’t get the greeting out in time.
“Whoa,” he says, his eyes blinking open wider.
“What?” I ask immediately, looking at the small square of my reflection to make sure there’s nothing on my face. When I don’t see anything, I look above my phone at the mirror to confirm.
