Page 126 of The English Bookstore in Bologna

“You’ve hit gold if you want to do that.”

“I do. If you’re up for it. I won’t even charge.”

A snicker from everyone.

Harold felt nervous but also inspired. Here was a woman who’d torn her book in half and then cried in public. “Yeah, okay, where do I start?” The birth of Aroldo seemed like as good a place as any, but then something made him think back further. “You want the truth, like the real truth?”

“That’s the best kind. Don’t worry. We’re all family.”

What did he have to lose? Alice? No. His dignity? Maybe.

“I’m a . . . well . . . I was a barista living with my mom a few months ago, working at a coffee shop in Denver, when a redhead appeared and altered my universe, as if my destiny had walked through the door. I was coming from the back with two jugs of whole milk when I set eyes on her. She ordered, took a seat at a table by the window, and started looking at her phone. I’m not sure what came over me—love, or lust—but I had this desperate urge to talk to her, but I didn’t have the confidence. Or a chance in hell. So I created this new person in my head.”

Harold’s heart pounded but he kept going. “I took off my apron, fell into an alternate persona, like an avatar, and took a seat next to her. No longer was I the hopeless barista living with his mom, too chicken to apply to colleges. I’d become a different Harold, and somehow, I was able to improvise as we spoke. I introduced myself and said that I was an entrepreneur who liked to occasionally work in the coffee shop. Alice was visiting friends but living here in Bologna, a student at the university. She was younger, which made the whole thing easier. For some crazy reason, she took to me, and we were laughing within minutes. And that fed this person I’d become and gave him confidence. Before I was busted by my manager, I suggested that she and I go for a walk.”

He shook his head, remembering that out-of-body feeling as they strolled the street chatting. For once in his life, someone had shown interest in him.

“Go on,” Bianca said.

“And then we had lunch and spent the afternoon together. Had dinner. Kissed that night. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Of course, my manager was texting me nonstop. By the end of the weekend, there was no turning back. She had a flight out, and as we were saying goodbye, I suggested I could take my work with me and come visit for a while. That’s how I got here.”

Everyone in the bookstore listened intently, and it was only then that he remembered that he had a tremendous fear of public speaking. What was happening?

Bianca said softy, “I’m so glad that you’re sharing, Harold. How brave of you.”

“And it only gets worse from there.” Settling in, he told them about pretending to have clients, but they were actually his gamer friends back home. He shared everything about Aroldo, admitting how he could barely remember the transformation. “I wouldn’t blame it on your book per se, but I was certainly on a journey to supercharge myself. Really, the reason I’m sharing is because I’m tired of hiding and you’ve inspired me.”

He looked over at Moira, wondering how she fit in. He wasn’t even sure who he was, so how could he know what she meant to him?

Bianca took over. “Harold, your courage and the love you’re capable of is who you are. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with who you were in the first place. It’s one thing to better ourselves, another to change into someone else. You and I were both guilty of it, but we still have time. We always have time. Why not go find your Harold in the Middle.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“Seriously. Even us at our worst is enough. Can you imagine all the things since the beginning of time that had to align to lead to you entering the world and taking your first breath? There’s nothing more beautiful. We’re all miracles. By simply breathing, we’re enough.”

Shivers of hope ran up his spine. “But how do we believe that and live that?”

“Great question.” Bianca sat up, and he could see she was truly thinking about it. “Because the same force that made rivers flow and flowers bloom made you. It wasn’t an accident. You’re part of the design.”

Harold spun her answer around in his head. “Yeah, but that just means I happened to make the cut. My dad’s sperm swam fast. Actually, he told me one time he wished he’d worn a condom. How do I really believe that I’m enough as I am?”

“I suppose that’s where faith comes in, Harold. Something far greater than me and you said yes to us. We got the green light. Okay, you might not have realized your purpose yet. We’re born miracles, and then we have to find out how to shine our light the brightest. How to give thanks for this miracle of life. But even when we’re not shining the brightest, when we’re still trying to find our way, we’re enough.”

“You’re still not answering the question, though. Give me proof that we’re enough. That I’m enough.”

Bianca sat up straighter, pure light on her face. “I get you, Harold. I see you. And I’m going to throw something back at you. Why don’t you believe it? Where is your faith?”

“I’ve never had any.”

“Why?”

“Because of life. Because I had a father who wasn’t really a father. A mom who was just trying to survive. I’ve been kicked around all my life, failed at everything except this one thing I did, this finding Alice and chasing her here. And that might have been my biggest failure so far . . .”

“Well, if you’re trying to figure out your next moves, don’t sleep on going to law school—if you’ve ever considered it. You have a natural talent for argument.”

Everyone laughed, but in a warm way. In a way Harold wasn’t used to.

Bianca continued. “Okay, fine, maybe we can’t ever know for sure if we’re enough as we are. No grand authority in the sky is going to come down from on high and deem you worthy of your life. You have to believe it. Every day. Not because you may or may not be a wealthy entrepreneur, or because you have great style, or because you’ve landed a stunning redhead. Or because you’ve written a book that’s set the world on fire. You’re worth it because you decide to be. No one can take that from you, Harold.”