The remainder of Marcella’s boldness evaporated. ‘Va bene. Maybe I have been difficult, too. I don’t know.’ Marcella wound her scarf a little tighter around her neck. ‘You’re right, Stella. Federico was my Andrew. I know what it’s like.’
Stella wrapped her arms around Marcella’s middle. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Me too. I’m going to go talk to him.’
‘Grazie, Marcella.’
‘But only because you are mysorellina romana, and if fixing this relationship is going to help . . .’ She turned on her heel to leave, but stopped suddenly. ‘Fammi un favore, Stella?’
‘And what favour is that?’
Marcella’s dark brown eyes reflected some of the low light from the restaurant’s window. ‘Don’t forget why you came back to Roma: foryou. And for April second.’
Vincent was sat on the steps of the central fountain in Piazza di Santa Maria in Trastevere when Marcella first spotted him. With his pizza box folded back on itself in his lap, he was watching children play with a glow-in-the-dark ball.
‘Here for round two?’ he asked as Marcella approached.
Stood a few feet in front of him, Marcella said, ‘I’ve come to sayscusa.’
‘For what?’ Expressionless, he popped the final inch of crust in his mouth and dusted his hands. ‘Thatwas delicious.’ He closed the box and set it aside, getting to his feet. ‘No pigeons harmed in the making.’
‘I am sorry if Monday’s visit to theBoccaupset you. And thepicc—’
‘It wasn’t the damn marble that upset me, Marcella,’ he bit back. ‘It was the weird jabs, rude remarks and pigeon pushing that pissed me off. You’ve been at me for the past few days. Weeks!’
‘I know.’ She swallowed her pride. ‘Scusami.’
‘What have I done? I’m not a troublemaker, Marcella. I’m here, just like you, trying to live my life.’
‘And I’m here,’ Marcella pointed to the cobblestones beneath her feet, ‘trying to keepmylife together, andStella’slife together, in this stupid, crazy, mayhem of a city.’
‘Leave Stella alone. She doesn’t need your protection, Marcella.’
‘Yes, she does.’
‘And what are you protecting her from? Huh?’ He took a step forward, now looking down on her.
‘From another bad mistake.’ The force behind her eyes was enough to push Vincent, albeit figuratively, back to a safe personal distance.
‘And you thinkI’ma bad mistake?’ he barked. Marcella didn’t respond. ‘You’re all talk.’ He tutted to himself and went to turn away.
‘Aspetta,’ Marcella said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Vincent turned to face her once again, hands on his hips. ‘I’m meant to believe that?’
‘Stella’s right. I projected a lot of my own insecurities about men onto you.’
He stood there, momentarily silent, studying her now teary eyes. ‘How so?’
‘Because I’ve been hurt. It’s hard for me to trust men. Especially new men that come into my life.Scusami. And . . . I know about what happened with Céline. And I’m sorry about that, too.’
Some of Vincent’s determined front suddenly subsided and his eyes shot to his feet. ‘Stella told you that?’
‘Sì. Now. Just to defend you.’
He scowled. ‘You think I’m pathetic, right?’
Marcella coaxed him to join her on the fountain’s step, and gave his forearm a squeeze. ‘Assolutamente no.’ She gave a defeated smile. ‘The three of us are all the same. My Federico. Stella’s Andrew. Your Céline.’
