‘I know.’
‘Things will get better.Ti prometto. Buttheywill always be the ones who . . . You know?’
‘I know.’
‘Allora . . .’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Hearts heal with time, but they don’t always forget.’
‘Scusami, all the same . . .’
Marcella could sense that Stella wanted to say something else, as she twice went to speak, but couldn’t find the words. ‘Tutto bene?’
‘I feel like an idiot, Marcella.’
‘Why?’
‘What kind of relationship was it, anyway? We spent the majority of our time either sneaking around or fulfilling his sexual needs. What did I get from it? Nothing. It was . . . what . . . maybe two months? Ugh.’ She grunted, frustratedly pulling the covers tighter under her chin. ‘Why am I even letting this upset me? He played me and my insecurities, like Nero with his fiddle.’
‘Stella, the fact that you can see that is a good thing. It’s growth,no?’
‘I’m so ashamed. How the hell did I not see it? Why did I believe him? All those times. I’m a fucking idiot.’
‘Eh, basta! He is the only one to be judged here,cara. Not you. Now, what are you going to do tomorrow? We will arrive back home around noon. You have to survive Vincent for an hour.’
‘I need to distract him long enough to enact a few little karmic pranks I’ve come up with. Can you help me before you go to work?’
‘Ma, certo! Your Artemisia is here and ready.’
Their return journey home had been delayed on account of train issues, leaving Stella and Marcella with just over half an hour with Vincent before he had to leave for the airport.
Stella gave Marcella a knowing glance, signalling that she needed a moment or two in Vincent’s room to enact her little revenge scheme. Marcella whisked him into the kitchen to write down a series of restaurants and bars he justhadto visit during his trip.
‘Don’t worry, none of those places should have Roman offal on the menu,’ she reassured him.
‘Good. Else I’ll leave you a nasty Google review!’ he joked.
In the meantime, Stella quickly ducked into his room. She managed to get her hands on his wallet, and pulled out all his bank and credit cards, and an old library card for good measure. She carefully rubbed each and every one against the large magnet she’d bought, before stashing it away in her cardigan pocket.
With her hands trembling, she grabbed his phone. Having seen him enter his access PIN on numerous occasions, she was glad to see it hadn’t changed. She scrolled through to his contacts list which featured a disproportionate number of women’s names and hit delete, wiping it, before carefully positioning it on the nightstand where she had found it.
Finally, as she could hear Marcella winding up the conversation, she located his laptop charger in his rucksack. Stuffing it quickly under his bed, she scuttled back into the living room, where he was closing his suitcase.
‘Have you got everything? Passport? Wallet?’ she asked innocently.
‘I think I’m ready.’ He dusted off his suitcase and stood it upright. ‘Just need to grab my rucksack, wallet and phone. One second.’ He ducked off to get them, leaving Stella to mime an incredibly enthusiastic silent happy dance in his wake. ‘All sorted! Ready to go!’ He slung the bag over his shoulder, kissed Stella goodbye, then disappeared down the stairs with his suitcase in tow.
‘Part of me wants to go to the airport to make sure he actually gets on that damn plane and leaves the country!’ Stella said, giving her mouth a wipe with her sleeve.
They both stood at the larger window behind the couch, peering out onto Via di San Calisto. They watched Vincent emerge from the main entrance below, juggling the rucksack and suitcase. He turned and smiled up at the window.
Through gritted teeth, Marcella muttered, ‘Just smile and wave, Stella.’
Through an equally forced smile, Stella replied, ‘That’s what I’m doing.’ They watched him turn the corner and disappear from sight. ‘Thank God for that!’ Stella let out an enormous sigh. She shuddered, recalling the unnecessarily sloppy final kiss she had suffered through.
Marcella, able to read her mind, said, ‘Hopefully that’s the last thing you have to fake,eh?’ She mimed her best contorted orgasm face.
Both collapsed back onto the couch, laughing.
With the apartment door closed and Vincent on his way back to the States, Stella made a promise to herself that she would endeavour to enjoy the next three weeks and keep at the job hunt. Knowing that she would inevitably have to field the odd call, return a few messages and reply to a few emails didn’t faze her. The distance between Rome and New York City brought her the relief she needed.
