He doesn’t dodge it or deflect. He meets my eyes and says, “I gave it more importance than I should have. I’ve put it behind me.”
“Then why don’t I see that same light in your eyes anymore?”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I just haven’t found my perfect match like you did. But I’ll be getting under someone—on top too—until that happens.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“And what does your therapist think about you deflecting everything and always carrying your burdens alone?”
Mark lets out a laugh. “That I’m a lost cause, obviously. He doesn’t say it out loud, but I can see it written all over his face. Besides, it’s been months since my last session.”
I reach for his hand and hold it. “Maybe it’s time to go back. Only I know how much therapy helped me this year. And the kids too.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “Now show me what changes you want to make to the blog layout.”
Once again, I let him change the subject.
I won’t push. But I won’t stop wanting him whole again, either... not when the hurt remains so visible in his eyes.
The second the line connects, I don’t wait. “How was arriving in Pisa today?”
Alexander chuckles on the other end. I press the phone closer to my ear, greedily holding onto the sound of him, wishing he was here beside me.
“And your day, Cecilia?” he asks. He always asks about me first. Wanting to know the smallest details.
When I finish telling him everything, his voice softens.
“Did you miss me today too?”
“Always,” I whisper. “But I know you’ll be with your family these days and—”
“I’m asking about you, Cecilia. Didyoumiss me today?”
“I miss you every day,” I say, my voice full of longing. “I miss your scent. Your body. Your voice in my ear when I wake up. Even the way only you know how to make my coffee... without me ever having to explain it, because it’s the same way you drink it too.”
My eyes go to the canvas. “I miss doing nothing with you. Just being together... your arms around me.”
He doesn’t say anything for a second.
“That’s an easy fix,” he says. “We can make it happen in less than half an hour.”
“Since when did you change careers and go into teleportation?”
“I’m in your city, tesoro. No teleportation necessary.”
My heart stutters, losing its rhythm. “You’re here?” I whisper. “No... how? Why? When?”
“I know I promised I would wait for your call... wait for you to ask me to come. But I couldn’t make myself go back to Pisa. I wouldn’t have lasted at the villa, in my penthouse in Milan, not even at the office... every room, every window would have led me back to you. So I came. Hoping I could see you, and we could finally finish that conversation face to face.”
“Oh my God...” I gasp. “You’re really here.”
I’m already moving before the words have fully left my mouth, slipping my shoes on, grabbing my coat, throwing it over the light peach sweater dress I’m wearing.
“You still live at the same address here, right?”
“Yes,” he says, “but I can meet you anywhere you want.”
“No, stay there. I’m coming to you.”
