However, when I arrived, all I found was silence and an empty room.The only person present was a janitor mopping the floor.
“Excuse me, where is the class?”I asked, feeling a bit bewildered.
“Oh, the class was dismissed; the teacher had an emergency, and there wasn't a last-minute substitute for the last three hours.Everyone went home,” a woman in her fifties replied.
“Thank you!”I said, leaving.As it turned out, I hadn't missed any class after all, and it was still only 11:30 AM.
The bus station was eerily quiet when I arrived; there was no sign of anyone else.Emily, I figured, had already hopped on the 11:20 AM bus, so I had to wait for the next one at noon.I settled onto a bench inside the station, watching the blue buses glide in and out.Just then, a bus pulled up with a sign reading“Rome.”
Mom had told me I was welcome to visit anytime, and since it was just an hour away, I figured now might be a good time.I could catch the evening bus back home and still be at the dinner table, or I could convince my mom to come back with me.With nothing else planned for the day, it seemed like a perfect opportunity.
I hurried to buy a ticket, not knowing when the bus might leave.As luck would have it, it departed just five minutes later, and I was on it—a thrill coursed through me.I had her address—only a 15-minute walk from the bus stop.Maybe we could grab lunch together and catch up.There were so many things left unsaid, especially things she might have held back in front of Dad.
When I was younger, she would talk to me endlessly, but as I grew older, those conversations became less frequent.Perhaps she felt it was her duty to guide me through my childhood, and now that I had become the person she envisioned, that guidance was no longer necessary.Still, I missed those moments with her.I missed my mom.
I reminisced about the days when she would brush my hair for at least fifteen minutes, wrapping me in warm hugs and showering me with kisses.It was a ritual I cherished, and even when my hair became tangled, she would patiently brush through it again.
She would say, “You're going to grow into a beautiful woman, but remember that true beauty lies within.Take care not to lose that.”
As I neared my stop, I stood up, ready to step outside.When the doors slid open, a wave of warm air hit me, a stark contrast to the chill of home.The streets were a frenzy of Vespas and scooters darting past in every direction, weaving between cars with reckless abandon, almost flying around.It was pure chaos.
Tourists snapped photos and shopped despite the off-season, while others shouted and cursed in the bustling crowd.Litter was strewn about, making me wonder how anyone could choose to live in such a disorderly place.
With wide eyes, I took in my surroundings.I had visited Rome several times before, but usually from the confines of a car or in a familiar crowd with school groups.
When I turned a corner, my heart nearly stopped.I gasped for breath, my eyes widened, and my mouth fell open as I slowly approached the Trevi Fountain.It felt surreal, like this had been my very first visit.
The fountain was monumental, its beauty overwhelming.Despite the throngs of people, I maneuvered my way closer, each step pulled me further into its allure.It was the most stunning thing I had ever laid eyes on.I studied its intricate details, trying to commit every feature to memory.
Time slipped away, and I realized I needed to keep moving; I was only five minutes away.Still caught up in a whirlwind of
emotions, I suddenly spotted a familiar face.It was my mother, her long dark curls cascaded flawlessly, always managing to look stunning with little effort.
Unlike her, I inherited my father's blond hair and blue eyes, but her deep onyx eyes had captivated me as a child, drawing me in completely.She was elegantly dressed in high black heels, tailored trousers, a chic blouse, and a beige trench coat—she always had an impeccable fashion sense, something I had always admired.
Originally from Rome, she met my dad while still in college, and they fell in love; she left everything behind to move to a quiet suburb for him.Shortly after, I came into the picture.
She sacrificed her ambitions and dreams to prioritize our family, always putting us first.At least, that was how it had always seemed—until then.
As she was about to step onto the street, I instinctively opened my mouth to call her name, but then I noticed her waving at someone else, who approached her quickly.I stood there, frozen in disbelief.My mother was kissing another man…
Chapter 9
Time seemed to slow down.I found myself rooted to the sidewalk, unable to move.The people around me felt like they were frozen in a still image, barely shifting in my periphery.A whirlwind of emotions churned inside me, each more complex than the last.
Before me, she and a man shared an unspoken connection that I couldn't quite grasp.He was tall, with a mane of thick, grayish hair, and dressed in a muted gray coat.The way he gazed at her, it was as if she was his.
Then, they kissed once more before parting ways.I noticed my mother heading to the left, and I followed her from across the street.
I observed her stride—radiant and assured, her long hair dancing in the wind.I desperately tried to decipher her thoughts and feelings, to understand the reasoning behind her actions.
How could she do this to the man she had shared nearly two decades with, to the life they had built together?Was it truly possible to fall out of love with someone who had been a partner, a confidant, and a parent to their child?Someone who had professed love time and again, who had pledged loyalty and devotion?The notion that such profound love could simply fade felt incomprehensible.
I continued to follow her, yearning to bridge the gap, to shout out my questions, to demand answers.But the thought of confronting her made it all too real, and so I remained silent.
Flashes of memories burst forth in my mind, each one a snapshot of joy, love, and togetherness.I was just seven years old on one scorching summer day, playing in the garden.I swung back and forth on the swing my dad had crafted for me, while my mom lounged nearby at the outdoor metal table, savoring grapes and sipping red wine, her toes nestled in the cool grass.
My dad gazed at her with a look of pure admiration, his smile radiant and filled with love.Then, out of nowhere, the skies opened up and rain began to fall.It was too late to seek shelter in the house, so we huddled beneath a tree.
