As I’m sure you know.
Realization hits and I don’t know how to interpret it. Maybe she’s privy to more than I thought.
“I’m so sorry,” I hear myself saying, wondering how much or how little I should reveal. “I should have said something, but with Matt and I...”
She holds up a hand to stop me. “Before you go on, just know that Matteo has never told me anything. Whenever I mention you to him, he closes up like a clam. My son has always been incredibly discreet, sometimes to his own detriment.”
I don’t know why but hearing her talk about Matt sends a helpless kind of longing ricocheting through my chest. It reminds me that he exists, but not for me.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “We’re not together anymore. Officially, we never really were, but we definitely aren’t now.”
She only gazes at me. I’m not sure if she’s waiting for me to add more, and before I can help it, words just start to fall out of me.
“It’s my fault. At first, I hated him, and he probably liked it that way. I think he found it entertaining. But the more we talked and the more I got to know him, I realized he wasn’t what I thought. Because the thing of it is, Matt’s amazing, isn’t he? He’s smart and generous and yes, sometimes he’s also insufferable, but so am I. And, for some reason, he liked me back, but I screwed it up. I’m sure it’s better this way. I’m too dramatic and he’ll find someone who’s rational and who has their life on track.” I can feel myself starting to ramble, so I try to dial it back before going on. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry for seeing him behind your back. I don’t regret liking him, but I should have been open about it, and I hope that someday you can forgive me.”
After a short pause, a knowing smile appears on the professor’s face.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she says. “I was sure you and Matteo were interested in each other from the very first night. Sparks like that don’t just go unnoticed.”
I take a guilty breath in as she continues.
“I know my son, and it was clear that he was different in Rome, and it wasn’t hard to guess that it was because of you. I just chose not to mention it as it was happening.”
“Why?” I ask her.
She offers me a tiny shrug. “Why should I? You’re both adults. And after so many years of watching Matteo just going through the motions of life, it was wonderful to see him happy.”
A spark of hope ignites inside me, but I make quick work of smothering the flame, leaving only a cold trail of smoke in its place. I made Matt happy once, but those days are gone.
I go to speak, but it takes a few seconds. “Right. Well, like I said, I screwed it up.”
“No love story is perfect,” the professor gently replies. “And regardless of whether or not this one is over, you shouldn’t doubt that itwasa love story. Even if it was a short one.”
I take a breath and give her another hug, all of a sudden feeling like she and I are now the ones who are breaking up.
“You really are one of the nicest people I’ve ever met,” I say into her shoulder. “And I still can’t believe that you’re even talking to me.”
I move away and find her gazing at me with her perpetually affectionate grin.
“A long time ago I promised myself that anyone my son cared about, I would care about as well. For years my husband’s parents were never kind to me. And even though he always stood up for me and he carried it well, I know it took a toll on him. I swore that was something Matteo would never experience. And lucky for me, he only chooses to care about extraordinary people.”
She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“You’re a brave woman,” I tell her. “I would be so intimidated if my husband’s mom was hostile toward me. How did you stand it?”
“Please,” she says through a little laugh. “I may be soft-spoken for the most part, but people would be wrong to mistake my kindness for weakness. I know my mind and I know my heart, and no one was going to tell me who I could or couldn’t love. In this world there will always be people who will try to convince you that you don’t deserve happiness and that you shouldn’t be able to have whatever you want. Don’t let yourself be one of those people.”
I smile and squeeze her hand back. “I hope we can keep in touch.”
“I’ll make sure we do. I’ll be back in New York sometime in October. You and I will get lunch. Marco and Holly as well. The whole group.”
She releases my hand and kisses each of my cheeks in farewell. “Ciao, Violetta.”
“Ciao,”I echo back. She walks away in a whoosh of her trademark burst of color, moving ethereally through the sea of Manhattanites that seem forever garbed in black.
“Who was that?” Daniella asks, arriving at my side. “Is it weird that I don’t know her but I want to be her friend?”
“Not weird in the least,” I answer. “I want to be her friend, too.”
