Chapter 10 #2
“I’ve told you this before, and I meant it,” he says, his eyes steady on mine. “There’s nothing you can’t ask me.”
I give him a small smile, and we start walking again.
“Have you ever been married?”
I turn toward him just in time to catch the smile that touches his lips.
“I came close once,” he says. “But it was so long ago it feels like another lifetime.”
He waits a beat, then keeps going. “I met her when I used to spend the summers visiting my family in Italy. We were always close, and over the years, we started dating. Right after college, I asked her to marry me. But when we talked about the future, about kids and other important things, we realized our visions didn’t align.
And even though I cared for her deeply, I ended the engagement. ”
Something tightens in my throat. “Do you... do you care about her even now?”
The fondness in his smile tugs at my chest. “I’d say yes. We knew each other for many years. But that was more than seventeen years ago. It didn’t take long for us to realize we were better as friends than we ever would have been as husband and wife.”
I nod. “And those differences you mentioned... the visions that didn’t align?”
“She wanted children right after we got married; she wanted to be a young mother,” he explains.
“But I wanted to wait a few years. I was about to start dedicating more time to Santoro Marmo, and when I became a father, I wanted it to happen at a moment when I could give myself fully to my children—not to the beginning of my career. It was something she couldn’t compromise on, and I respected that. ”
We stop in front of a fountain. I sit on a nearby bench, and Alexander takes the seat beside me.
“Have you ever regretted it?” I ask, my voice hushed.
“No,” he says without a second of hesitation. “She met the love of her life, a good man. They were made for each other. I even went to their wedding.”
He pauses. “My father passed away not long after, and for years my focus was the company. When I eventually started thinking about serious relationships again, I wasn’t the same man I’d been in my early twenties.
I knew exactly what I wanted, and none of the few relationships I’ve had since ever made me feel I should take a bigger step. ”
He draws a deep breath, his voice deep and certain. “I can be pragmatic when it comes to work... but marriage is different. If it ever happens, it will be for love. Real love.”
He finishes the sentence looking straight at me, and at that exact moment, a breeze sweeps past, brushing the back of my neck where my hair is pinned up; it sent a shiver over my skin. I can’t tell if it’s the wind... or the way he’s looking at me.
“And you?” he asks.
“Me? Getting married again isn’t on my mind.”
His hand comes to rest over mine on the back of the bench, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. “I know it’s not,” he says gently. “Not anytime soon, at least. But I meant... do you think you’ll ever feel ready to try again someday?”
I sit with the question for a moment before I answer.
“I don’t know. Truth is, my experience with relationships is almost nonexistent.
I married my first boyfriend and spent all these years with the same person.
” I draw in a breath, surprised to realize that saying it out loud doesn’t bring that old ache to my chest anymore.
“I don’t know if it will ever happen again.
.. or if I’d even recognize it when it does. ”
Alexander looks at me with an expression that’s both intense and unreadable. “You’ll know,” he says. “When the moment comes, you’ll know.”
And the way he says it, with that conviction...
“What are your plans for the rest of the summer?” he asks next, catching me off guard.
I let out a laugh. “Spend time with my children whenever they actually have time for me... and work?”
He studies me with a thoughtful expression. “Tell me three things you’ve always wanted to do. Things you never had the time for, or never followed through with.”
“Okay... that’s going to take me a minute.”
“My time is all yours, Cecily.”
I don’t know how long I sit there thinking, my eyes fixed on the water from the fountain, but I can feel his gaze on me the entire time. Persistent. Patient.
“Doing something with my hands... some kind of art. Ceramics, painting? Just for the fun of it,” I say, watching the light dance on the water.
“Planting something, too—though that would definitely be a challenge. I do not have a green thumb.” I laugh as I finish.
“I’d also love to go on a real hike someday. That one actually feels possible.”
I bite the inside of my lower lip, wondering if I should say the last thing that crossed my mind. Then I turn to him. “Promise you won’t laugh at what I’m about to say next?”
“I promise,” he says, placing a hand over his chest, one eyebrow raised.
I take a deep breath. “I watched a movie when I was younger, and there was this couple who danced with so much emotion and passion it stayed with me for years. I even thought about signing up for classes in one of the styles they danced, but I never did.”
“Can you tell me what style it was?” Alexander asks, his eyes never leaving mine.
I nod. “Salsa.” I resist the urge to cover my face. “I know—can you imagine me dancing salsa?” I laugh at my own expense.
“I can,” Alexander says, his voice hoarse and serious.
I shake my head quickly and switch subjects. “And you? What are three things you’ve always wanted to do but never have?”
He gives me a half–smile. “I’ll tell you after you do at least one of the things you just confessed.”
I scoff, dramatically. “That’s not fair. You made me bare my soul with my most well-kept secrets in a public park, in broad daylight, and you’re not going to tell me even one of yours?”
He tilts his head, that amused smile spreading. “Life isn’t fair, bella mia. There are many things I’d like to do and say... but I can’t.”
I swallow and look at him... the fading sunlight catching in his black hair, turning the strands a deep bronze at the edges. There’s something in the way he watches the water—thoughtful, almost longing—that makes me wonder what he’s holding back.
And what, exactly, are the things he wishes he could do. Or say.
I set the book aside on the couch when my phone rings, and I answer it absentmindedly without checking who’s calling.
“I need to ask you something,” he says, “and I want you to promise you won’t overthink it. Just answer with whatever you feel—not what you think you should say.”
The tone of his voice makes something warm run through my body.
“No ciao bella or cara mia today?” I tease, trying to hide the hitch in my breath.
“Ciao, bella mia,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Now promise me.”
“Alexander, I...”
“Cecily,” he says, interrupting me gently. “I know I have no right to ask for your trust. But you have my word. I would never do anything to harm you. Not in any way.”
This makes me smile. “I promise,” I murmur.
“I signed you up for a salsa class this Friday,” he says. “It’s at a studio less than an hour from your house. It’s a beginner class, so you don’t need to worry about being ready or anything like that.”
I don’t say anything for so long that he calls my name again.
“Cecily, you’re not supposed to overthink this, remember?”
“I... yes.”
“Perfetto,” he says, the Italian rolling off his tongue in that rough timbre. “Do you want me to pick you up, or should I send you the address and meet you there?”
“Y-you’re going too?”
“Of course. I’ve never taken salsa lessons, and I thought I’d give it a try, and be there as your moral support,” he says, amused. “But if you’d rather go alone, I’ll respect that.”
“No, it’s fine if you come. But... isn’t Friday a little too soon? That’s only two days from now.”
“Yes. Perfect timing for you to get used to the idea and not have enough time to change your mind.”
We talk for a while longer, and the moment we hang up, I let myself fall back into the couch cushions.
Staring up at the ceiling, I burst into laughter, wondering how on earth I just agreed to this.
Alexander
I glance at my watch again. She’s ten minutes late.
Did she change her mind?
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked so abruptly. Maybe I should’ve scheduled it for next week, given her more time to prepare. But the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about wanting to take that class… I could see it was something she still wanted. So I took a chance.
And now I’m standing here in front of the studio, wondering if I pushed too far... or if she’s about to turn the corner and prove me wrong.
Less than two minutes later, I feel that same pull at the back of my neck, the instinct that always seems to sense her before I actually see her. I turn, and there she is, hurrying toward me.
I smile, and when she’s close enough, I reach for her hand and bring it to my lips.
“Ciao, cara mia,” I say. “I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.”
“Sorry,” she says, slightly breathless. “Parking was impossible.”
“It’s all right,” I reassure her. “You have more than enough time to change. Shall we?”
I walk with Cecily to the locker area, then head back to the reception to wait.
When she returns, she’s wearing a dusty rose dress, fitted across her chest and up to her collarbones before falling loose just beneath the curve of her bust, the fabric flowing just below her knees. Low-heeled nude shoes complete the look.
Bellissima. Assolutamente bellissima[XXXIV].
When she stops in front of me, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and says, “The outfit suggestion on the link you sent was for something like this. I hope I got it right.”
“You look beautiful,” I say, more in control than I feel.
“Thank you.” She lets her eyes travel over me then, as if seeing me for the first time tonight. “You know... when you’re in jeans you look like a completely different person.”