Thirty-Eight - Rome
“ S aluti!”
The three of us clink our glasses together before taking a sip of Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio. The mood at the Collazo house is as jovial as it always is, with Isabella working magic in the kitchen to serve Nikola and I the world’s most beautiful chicken parmesan with homemade marinara sauce and penne pasta. I've missed dinners here. The occasion used to happen much more frequently—before Natalia died—and while I do feel a stab of guilt for being here without her, I have to admit that it feels good to be back at my friends’ table again.
The setting of tonight’s delicious dining experience is Nikola and Isabella’s gorgeous off-white dining room. The color alone reflects how bold these two are, because I couldn't imagine sitting down to eat in this room without worrying about sauce splattering or wine dripping onto the white seat cushion beneath me. My mind would drive itself insane with worry thinking about the chances that I could trip on the off-white rug leading from the kitchen to the dining room and spill something, creating a permanent stain on any part of the white and tan tablecloth. But somehow the two of them have managed to even keep the white placemats stain-free. I hope I can keep the streak alive as I cut into my chicken and watch the marinara slide across the plate, threatening to spill over the edge.
After my first bite, I look at Isabella and sigh. “ è delizioso, Isabella .”
She turns to me with a smile, her cheeks tinted pink from the amount of wine she has already had to drink tonight while she was cooking. “ Grazie, Roma .”
We spend the next few minutes quietly enjoying the meal Isabella prepared, with the only sound at the table coming from forks and knives clanking atop white plates with gold edges, but once Nikola takes a second drink, he finally begins the night’s conversation.
“I've got to tell you, Rome,” he starts with his wine glass firmly in hand and ready to lift as soon as he’s done talking. “I'm proud of you, man. You're starting to look like your old self.”
Isabella finishes her glass of wine and sets it down to pour another from the half-empty bottle. “Yes, Rome. Nikola and I were hesitant to say anything, but you really do look good. It’s so great to see you smiling again.”
“Thank you,” I reply, although I'm actually unsure of how to feel. “Things have been going well both professionally and personally, so I don't have much to complain about. Things have been good.”
A brief pause elapses, but its pregnancy catches my attention. When I see the look on Nikola’s face I feel a hint of suspicion come to life in my gut.
“That’s great, man,” he says before another apprehensive pause that makes my brows crawl together. “So, uhh … how are things going with Nia?”
There it is—the question the two of them have been dying to ask me the entire night. Nikola and Isabella have always shown a scary amount of interest in my love life since Natalia passed away, and it has never failed to make me unreasonably uncomfortable. I know that they want the best for me and wish to see me happy, but the topic is always touchy because they knew Natalia. We were all very close friends from the beginning to the tragic end, and I've always been bothered by their desire to see me move on. However, they are right about one thing. I'm in a better place right now. It takes a copious amount of work to be as okay as I am, but things truly are better at the moment.
“Things with Nia are great,” I admit aloud for the very first time.
Isabella’s face lights up like a child finding their presents under the tree.
“Oh good!” she chirps. “I can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that. You've always been so secretive, Rome.”
“But we don't want to pry,” Nikola quickly chimes in, and I can tell that they have already talked about how they would approach this conversation. “We just wanted to see how things are going and make sure that you're happy. That’s all.”
Nikola eyes Isabella as she fills her wine glass to the top and drinks it back down to half.
“I appreciate that,” I say with a nod. “Like I said, Nia and I are great. We’ve been together for three months now, and it’s good. I like her.”
“That’s so wonderful, Rome,” Isabella says. “It’s great to see you happy again.”
“Are you still keeping it a secret at your job?” Nikola asks as he stuffs his mouth full of a thick piece of chicken.
“Actually, no,” I answer. “The veil of secrecy came crashing down a couple of days ago when my VP was spying on us in the breakroom. She saw us kissing and called Nia out in front of the entire office, hoping to embarrass her into quitting. But I wouldn't allow that. Since she was in the mood to spill secrets, I intervened and told everyone how Sierra had come onto me just after I took over the company. It was probably immature and unnecessary, but Nia was very upset and I felt the need to step in and protect her from mistreatment. Long story short, it all worked out. Sierra apologized to Nia and I, and everything is back on track with the only difference being that we’re not hiding anymore. It’s all good.”
“Wow,” Isabella says, her eyes looking a little squinted. “You stepped in for her? Felt the need to protect her? So can I safely assume that you have real feelings for her?”
“Isabella,” Nikola says, cutting his eyes over to his wife like a father threatening their child with a look.
“It’s okay, Nikola,” I say, trying to ease the tension I see building in his face. “Yes, I do have feelings for her. I like her.”
“Awesome,” Isabella blurts. “So, when do we get to meet her?”
“Isabella,” Nikola snaps, clearly unhappy with the question. However, this time, I don't think it’s okay.
As I look down at the table with the question swirling around my head, the first thing I think about is the last time I sat at this exact table with Natalia at my side. She was wearing a black and gray dress that hugged her curves. Her black hair cascaded down her back like a beautiful, endless waterfall of obsidian. Her smile radiated every time she gifted us with its presence, and when we made eye contact my heart fluttered as if we’d just met when we’d known each other for years. That was a month before the brain aneurysm snuck in and snatched her away from me in the blink of an eye. Five years have now passed since that dinner. Five years since I was sitting right here with the woman who was my wife and the love of my life. Five years since the four of us were the best of friends, thinking that we’d have a lifetime of dinners and laughter together. That’s it. Just five years. But now Isabella is ready to start up those dinners again—dinners full of drinks, laughter, love, and friendship … but without Natalia.
“What are you doing?” I ask as flames roar to life in my stomach and quickly travel through my veins to the rest of my body.
“What do you mean?” Isabella responds.
“Rome, it’s fine,” Nikola says, trying to maintain a grip on the situation, but it’s slipping through his fingers like he’s trying to squeeze liquid.
“Is it?” I snip. “Is it fine now after nearly five years of Natalia being gone—the anniversary of her death just days away? What, is five years the limit for grief? Once we hit the five-year mark in a few days you'll be ready to replace the woman who was your best friend, Isabella?”
“Replace? What the hell are you talking about?” she fires back, slurring her words a bit as the wine tightens its grip on her.
“Isabella, please stop,” Nikola pleads. “This is not what we talked about. Rome will let us in on his relationship if and when he is ready.”
“He’s never going to be ready,” Isabella cuts in, suddenly angry as she drops her fork and sits back, her face scowling. “We’ve been trying to help him for years, but he refuses to grow up and move on.”
“Grow up?” I say with a shocked expression, but Isabella plows over me.
“Yeah, grow the fuck up,” she says, pointing her finger at me from across the table. “You're our friend, Rome. We don't want to see you miserable and spiraling, okay? We want you to be happy and with someone who can make you smile, because that’s what you deserve. But you know what else? We deserve it, too. Natalia was our friend, too! I miss her, too! So don't you dare say shit about me trying to replace her. We will never. But that doesn't mean that we have to die with her.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I bark, standing up so fast my chair goes flying backward. “Don't you dare talk about her as if you knew her better than me or loved her more. She was everything to me!”
“Rome, you have to calm down,” Nikola says, standing up to place a hand on my shoulder. “Just have a seat and we can talk about this calmly.”
“Oh, I bet you two have been just dying to have this conversation, haven't you?” I ask, my emotions taking over as tears sting my eyes and my heart races like I'm running. “You've been so fucking desperate to push me into something new all this time. Waiting for me to move on from Natalia and replace her with someone new.”
“We don't want you to replace her, dumb ass,” Isabella barks. “It’s okay for you to find happiness and fall in love again. Why are you so against it?”
“Because I’ll fucking lose her!” I scream as the floodgates open and tears come like a torrential downpour. “Don't you dare say the word love to me. When I love someone, I lose them. They fucking die. My mom. My wife. My fucking dad died less than a year ago! I will never allow myself to love Nia, because as soon as I do, she's cursed—fucking marked for death. So you two can forget all about your dreams of seeing me in love, making fucking wedding plans, or having children, because I refuse to let it happen. How do you think I was able to get this far with Nia after my dad died? Huh? I vowed to never love anyone else. That’s why things are better, because I know I will never afflict another person with the jinxed cancer that is my love.”
As I stand by the table with tears streaming down my face, Nikola moves over to Isabella and places both hands on her shoulders as she begins to cry, too.
“Jesus, Rome,” he says. “Is that what you think? That you're cursed? Love is not a curse.”
“What the fuck do you know about it?” I bellow. “Sitting here with your perfect house and flawless marriage, constantly reminding me of what I’ll never have. You don't know how it feels to watch everyone you've ever loved die. You two are the only ones left, and I wake up every day terrified that something has happened to you in the middle of the night. I expect it like I expect the sun to rise in the morning, and it fills me with constant dread.”
“You can't live like this, Rome,” Nikola says, and I see tears in his eyes for the first time since Natalia’s funeral.
“He’s right, Rome,” Isabella agrees. “It isn’t good for your mental health to hang onto these kinds of thoughts. You have to be able to move on.”
“I've moved on as far as I can,” I reply, turning my feet toward the door. “I've got all the closure I'm ever going to get, and I know what I have to do in order to be happy. Love is off the table, and that’s all there is to it. I’m not replacing Natalia with Nia. We’re not having double dates or couples nights like the good old days. That’s over, and so is this conversation. Thanks for dinner.”
“Rome, please don't leave,” Nikola pleads.
“Don't do this, Rome,” Isabella requests, bawling her eyes out.
I ignore them both. I hate that I'm crying as I go, and I hate walking out on the only two people on this Earth that have been here for me through all of my trials and tribulations. But I'm done. I’m fucking done with everything.