The confession makes my chest ache, because I can't stop thinking about him either. I can't stop wanting him, can't stop needing these stolen hours where I can be myself instead of the person everyone expects me to be.
And I wish he knew that the woman he’s saying that to, the woman he’s thinking about, is the same one he sees almost every day, who has been in love with him for years.
"I think about you too," I whisper.
He turns me in his arms so we're face to face, and even with the mask, I can feel the intensity of his gaze.
"Who are you?" he asks, and there's something desperate in his voice. "Really. Who are you when you're not here?"
The question terrifies me. I don't know how to answer it. The lines between Giulia and Valentina have blurred so completely that I'm not sure where one ends and the other begins. And I never made up a backstory for Valentina—never thought about who she might need to be outside of what we did in the bedroom.
"I'm no one," I say finally. "Just a woman who needed to escape."
Luca’s gaze sharpens. "Escape from what?"
"From a life I didn't choose. Expectations I can't meet.” The words are more honest than I intended, and I can see him processing them, trying to understand.
"Are you in danger?" he asks, his voice hardening. "Is someone hurting you?"
"No." Not physically, anyway. "I'm just... trapped. And this—being here with you—it's the only time I feel free."
He kisses me then, soft and gentle, and it's so different from the desperate claiming of earlier that it makes my eyes sting with tears. "Then be free," he says softly against my lips. "Be whoever you want to be when you're with me."
If only it were that simple, I think, as tears fill my eyes.
—
I havea cake tasting the next afternoon, right after I leave Liesl’s apartment. I feel like I’m being battered back and forth, going from one personality to the next, and I’m exhausted.
Alessandro and I sit in a pristine, elegant bakery, sampling flavors and fillings while the baker explains the merits of each option. Vanilla with raspberry filling. Chocolate with salted caramel. Lemon with buttercream.
They all taste like sawdust in my mouth. Alessandro is attentive, asking my opinion on each one, trying to gauge my preferences. He's being considerate, or at least pretending to be. I don’t really care which one it is. All I can think about is last night, and Luca.
"What do you think?" he asks, gesturing to a sample of champagne cake with strawberry filling. "This one seems like it might be your favorite."
I take a bite, chew, and swallow, all mechanically. "It's lovely," I say, even though I can barely taste it.
We settle on the vanilla with raspberry—a safe, traditional choice—and the baker beams at us like we've just made the most important decision of our lives. Maybe we have. Maybe this is what my life will be from now on—a series of safe, traditional choices that add up to a perfectly acceptable existence that slowly kills me from the inside out.
I keep up that pretense until I’m at the club again, tangled up in Luca’s arms. He's waiting for me when I arrive, and the relief in his eyes when he sees me is almost painful to witness. We go upstairs, and this time the sex is slower, more tender, like he's trying to memorize every inch of my skin, every sound I make, every way my body responds to his touch. Like, somehow he knows that we’re running out of time.
He brushes my hair away from my face as we lie in bed afterwards. “I’m falling for you,” he says quietly, and the words startle me enough that I jolt upright a little. "I know I shouldn't. I know this is supposed to be just physical. But I can't help it." He looks at me, easing me back down next to him, and my heart is beating so hard it hurts.
“You can’t,” I blurt out.You don’t know that Valentina and Giulia are the same person, that the woman you’re falling for is the same woman you can never have."You don't know me," I whisper, my voice shaky. "Not really."
"Then let me know you." He cups my face in his hands. "Tell me your real name. Tell me where you're from. Tell me anything real."
I want to. God, I want to so badly it hurts. I want to rip the mask off and let him see me, blurt out that it’s been me all this time, and beg him to take me away from all of this. But I can't.
Luca is loyal. I know that about him, down to his core. He’s loyal to my father, to Romeo, and even to me… therealme. He stays away from me at home, I think, because he’s trying to protect me. Because he feels something for me, or at least sees what I feel for him, and wants to make sure we don’t make a mistake we can’t take back.
But we have… even though I don’t think it’s a mistake. He might, though. I don’t know what he would feel, but I know at the end of the day, he won’t leave here with me. And we can’t ever be together, not really.
The only way forward is to preserve this, so it ends beautifully, instead of in pain and tears.
And I'm not ready for it to end. I'm not ready to lose the only thing that makes me feel like myself.
"I can't," I whisper. "I'm sorry. I can't."
