“I’m sure my modeling could’ve been better.” She gives me a wry grin. “And I think I ate enough gelato to last me the full trip.”
“Impossible.” I match her grin with one of my own.
I’m pretty sure she knows exactly what I’m trying to talk about, but neither of us appears to want to gothere. I wonder if her reasons are the same as mine. Running my hand through my hair, I remember how soft hers was when I threaded my fingers through it.
Stop being a child and tell her how you feel.
Tentatively, I reach for her hand, gently placing mine on top. “Tessa, I?—”
“How adorable are they, Roberto?” Mamma comes back from the kitchen holding two glasses, and Papa follows with two more.
Tessa flinches, her hand pulling away from mine. Snatching it back, I set our joined hands firmly on my thigh. She flushes but doesn’t move it this time.
“You’d think he’d bring you to us earlier, so I could witness the love between you two in person. Though, it’s just like Gio to keep his girlfriend all to himself for three years.”
Chapter 24
Tessa
Iswivel my head slowly toward the man, the myth, the liar-liar-custom-pants-on-fire. He has the decency to look moderately mortified.
“And Gio asking you to be his girlfriend on Christmas Eve in the falling snow? It sounds like something out of a fairytale. But that’s our son, the romantic.”
I squint at theromanticwith a clenched smile.
“How did you feel, Tessa? When he told you that you were his ‘future’ that night?”
My boyfriend—Mr. Future himself—swallows, and his Adam’s apple looks more like an orange in his throat.
“I felt… surprised.” Then, narrowing my eyes at Giovanni, I add, “I felt emotions I’veneverfelt before, that’s for sure.”
Maria sighs. “That’s lovely. And then what happened?”
“What… happened?”
“Yes, from your perspective. We’ve heard it all from Gio before, but I’m sure your version is better.”
Giovanni leans in front of me, blocking my view of his mother. “Oh, I don’t think she needs to?—“
Standing up, I interject with, “I’dloveto tell you, Maria. He read me a poem. A poem so touching, it nearly moved me to tears. When I heard it, I felt as though I was soaring through the sky on the wings of an eagle.” I turn toward him, my clenched smile relaxing into a shit-eating grin. “Do you want to share, Giovanni? I’d just love to reminisce.”
The sound of the garden door creaking catches all of our attention, and Maria turns around to find Roberto quietly sneaking out, no doubt on his way to visit Giuseppe. “Roberto! Gio is going to recite a poem!”
With Maria’s back turned toward us, my pretend boyfriend shoots up from the loveseat and mouths,Soaring through the sky? Really?
Three fucking years without telling me? Really?I retort.
Roberto walks into the room, and we both freeze.
“Well? Go on, Tesoro.”
Giovanni actually looks kind of nervous now, and a sliver of me starts to feel bad for putting him on the spot. Then I remember his tall tale:Giovanni and Tessa’s Love Origin, featuring the Fallen Snow, and the remaining shred of guilt evacuates my body.
He faces out toward his parents and begins reciting something by memory in Italian.
“Più fine del più raffinato abito,
e più forte della cucitura più resistente.
