Poor girl. This world we’re in would crush her fragile mind, and I bet she had absolutely no idea what Elio really did.
“Where is the Zahra?” Gemma’s nonna made her way toward us, her eyes as blue as Gemma’s pinned right on me.
I shifted uncomfortably.
“Hmm, you are the fuck friend turn girlfriend.”
“Nonna, come on,” Gemma chided, sounding embarrassed.
“Shh, I must do inspection.” She squinted her eyes at me, and then both hands came to my face, turning it from left to right.
From the corners of my vision, I caught Devil leaning against the wall, eyes filled with amusement.
“I see…” the woman drawled out, “I see same ears… same eyebrows… same eye shape but more in woman form. Hmm… what else… frown for me.”
“Why the fuck would I—”
“Frown now!”
I frowned, not because she asked me to frown, but because this was really weird.
The woman smiled. “Perfect. Soulmate.”
“I am so confused,” I said.
She took her hand from my face. “My mother always tell me if a woman meet her soulmate, her true soulmate, they will have some similar thing in look, in manner, and sometime in thinking. That is how I know me and Maurice, my dead husband, are not soulmate. That is also how I know my Gemma and that Giacomo fool she date before are not soulmate. But you and Elio, soulmate.”
I turned to see a big grin on Milk’s face. “I read thatsomewhere too!” she said, tilting her head. “And now that I think about it, you do look—”
“You have a beautiful home.” I cut Milk off before she made the whole situation even weirder than it already was. “It’s… it’s homey.”
“Yes. My Gemma work very hard for it. Hope everybody like spice! I will check on turkey now. You, pink hair, come set the table. Elia, come, let us talk as you help me carve the turkey.”
When I was alone with Gemma, I turned to pin her with a look.
She stood straighter. “Listen, Zahra, I know how this must all seem, Elio and me, but I promise that it’s nothing like that, and I really don’t want to cause problems between you two. And honestly, Elio really,trulydoes care so much about you, and I feel like he’s going to hate me for this situation, and—well, maybe the gift box was a bad idea; I just really wanted to do something nice. I’m sorry if it seemed otherwise.”
“How did you meet him?”
“A ride. I gave him a ride in my car many months ago.”
I scanned her from head to toe. “Huh… Why didn’t he mention you?”
“He told me he was finding the perfect way to tell you. I really wanted to meet you, but not in this way. In a normal way.”
“Right… and you have no ulterior motives.” I studied her.
“I don’t think I have enough in me to have ulterior motives,” she answered.
“You’re just friends with him.”
“Just friends, I promise.”
“You don’t think he’s hot.”
She blinked. “I—I think he’s all right and perfect for you.”
“And not for you?”
