Chapter 20 Space #2
Sophia wanted to argue. She didn’t.
“All right.”
At five-thirty, Vinny read the review alone in his mother’s kitchen after Gia sent the link with one order: Don’t come here. The words about the server, the shaking hands, and the cook leaving the kitchen made him want to put his fist through a cabinet. He didn’t.
Anna and Mary found him cleaning the stove like it had personally wronged him and pulled the truth out of him fast. He had tried to protect Sophia after she asked him not to. Both sisters were merciless about that.
“Maybe don’t try to fix it first,” Anna said. “Maybe listen.”
Mary added, “And apologize without explaining for like ten minutes.”
Then Sophia texted:
I can talk after close. Outside Bella Luna. Ten minutes.
He wanted to write more. He didn’t.
Anna pointed at him. “Don’t bring food.”
He closed his mouth because he had absolutely been thinking about soup.
At eight-thirty, Sophia stepped outside Bella Luna with Victoria behind her. Vinny stood across the sidewalk under the streetlight, hands in his jacket pockets. He hadn’t come to the door. He hadn’t looked through the window. He had waited where she had asked. Fair. The fine things still hurt.
Victoria stopped beside Sophia. “I’ll be inside.”
Sophia nodded.
“Ten minutes,” Victoria said.
Vinny heard that. He didn’t complain. Victoria went back inside, but she stayed near the window. Sophia walked toward him. He looked worse than this morning’s texts had sounded, tired, pale, and scared enough that her chest hurt immediately. She hated that.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
Neither of them moved closer. The space between them felt strange after the way they had been together two nights ago. His apartment. His bed. His hand in hers. Now the sidewalk. Two feet apart. No touching.
Vinny swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Sophia wrapped her arms around herself. “For what?”
He flinched. Right. Not because she wanted to hurt him. Because he needed to answer.
“For leaving the kitchen,” he said. “For not listening. For making the whole thing bigger. For making it harder for you.”
Sophia looked down at the sidewalk. That felt like the right answer. It didn’t fix anything.
“Antonia suspended you?”
“Yes.”
“For the week?”
“Yes.”
“Are you mad at her?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” His voice was rough. “She was right.”
Sophia nodded. The cold air moved between them. Vinny’s hands stayed in his pockets. He looked like keeping them there took effort.
“I read the review,” he said.
Sophia closed her eyes for half a second. “I did too.”
“He made people know it was you.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t write it.”
“No.” His jaw tightened. “But I gave him more to use.”
Sophia looked at him then. His face was open. No defense yet and no speech. Just miserable and waiting.
“That is part of it,” she said.
He nodded.
“But it isn’t all of it.”
“I know.”
“I asked you not to step in.”
“I know.”
“I said if I needed help, I would ask.”
“I know.”
“You wrote it down.”
His eyes reddened. “Yes.”
“Then you came out anyway.”
He swallowed. “Yes.”
Sophia’s throat tightened. Saying it out loud hurt more than thinking it.
“I know why,” she said.
His face twisted. “Do you?”
“Yes. You were angry. He was being awful. I looked upset. You wanted to protect me.”
Vinny looked down. “I did.”
“I know.”
She took a breath. It shook.
“Vinny, when you came out, everyone stopped looking at what he was doing to me and started looking at you defending me.”
He looked up. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t.” Her voice rose, then she pulled it back. “I know.”
He shut his mouth. She appreciated that.
“I was already embarrassed. I had spilled the dessert. He was saying horrible things. I was trying to get through it without falling apart in the middle of the dining room.” Her eyes burned. “And then you came out, and suddenly I was the girl whose boyfriend had to come save her.”
Vinny’s face crumpled. Just a little, enough.
“I don’t think that,” he said.
“But that is how it looked.”
“I know.”
“It made me feel like you didn’t trust me to handle it.”
“I trust you.”
“You didn’t last night.”
He took that. No argument. Sophia pressed her hands against her sleeves.
“I needed you to believe me when I said I could handle it. You were the one person I needed that from.”
Vinny looked away. His jaw worked once. When he looked back, his eyes were wet.
“I failed that.”
“Yes.”
He nodded. The simple answer seemed to hurt him. It hurt her too.
“I wanted to help,” he said.
“I know.”
“I care about you so much that I—”
He stopped. Sophia saw the word he almost used. It hung there for one second. He didn’t say it. Thank God. Not like this or while she was asking for space.
Vinny swallowed and started again. “I care about you so much that I panicked when I saw him hurting you.”
Sophia nodded slowly. “I believe that.”
“But it doesn’t make it all right.”
“No.”
“I know.”
She looked toward Bella Luna’s window. Victoria was still there, pretending badly not to watch. Gia appeared beside her, got yanked back by Victoria, and disappeared again. Sophia almost smiled, almost. Then she looked back at Vinny.
“I need space.”
He went still. She kept going before she lost nerve.
“I don’t mean forever. I don’t know what I mean yet. I just know I can’t be your girlfriend the normal way right now. I can’t have you walking me home or bringing me food or waiting after shifts. I can’t carry your apology while I’m still trying to handle what happened.”
Vinny looked like every sentence hit.
He nodded anyway. “All right.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
“No food through Gia.”
His mouth twitched once, then fell. “My sisters already yelled at me about that.”
Sophia blinked.
Despite everything, a tiny laugh escaped. “Nice.”
“They are terrifying.”
“They sound smart.”
“They are.”
The brief softness faded.
Vinny looked at her. “Can I text you?”
Sophia hesitated. His face tightened, but he didn’t push.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“All right.”
“I think… if it is about work or if Antonia needs something, yes. But not morning. Not good night. Not yet.”
He closed his eyes for one second. Then opened them.
“All right.”
“I need to get through school this week too.”
“I know.”
“And work.”
“I know.”
“And people saying my name online.”
His face hardened, then he forced it back. “I saw the comments defending you.”
“Vinny.”
“I’m not going to do anything.”
She searched his face. He meant it. At least now.
“I need you not to fight my battles in comments either.”
“I won’t.”
“Or with Francois.”
“I won’t.”
“Or with Windy City.”
He swallowed. “I won’t.”
“All right.”
Vinny looked down at the sidewalk. “What are we?”
Low. Deliberate. The question hurt more than she expected.
Sophia wrapped her arms tighter around herself. “I don’t know.”
He nodded, but his face looked worse.
“I’m not saying we’re done,” she said.
His breath caught.
“I’m saying I need space because I don’t know how to feel close to you right now without feeling like you might decide for me again.”
He stared at her. Then nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
He almost smiled, but it was sad and gone fast. “I’m trying to understand for real.”
Sophia looked down. That was honest. She could accept honest.
“I have to go back inside.”
“All right.”
Neither of them moved. Vinny took his hands out of his pockets, then stopped himself before reaching for her. She saw it. He put them back. Good. Awful. Steady.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“I know.”
“I’ll give you space.”
“Thank you.”
She turned toward Bella Luna. Every step felt mean.
Every step also felt necessary. At the door, she looked back once.
Vinny hadn’t moved. He stood under the streetlight with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched against the cold.
He lifted one hand. Little. She lifted hers back.
Then she went inside. Victoria opened the door before Sophia touched it.
Gia stood behind her with both hands pressed over her mouth. Sophia looked at Gia.
Inside Bella Luna, Gia managed not to speak for almost three seconds.
Antonia sent Sophia home, and Victoria walked with her without asking for details.
At home, Constance had the review open and closed the laptop before Sophia could see it again.
Sophia told her she had asked Vinny for space.
Constance only touched her hair and said, “That must have been hard.” Later, Sophia read Victoria’s draft post, approved it because it defended without making her helpless, and wrote two lines in her notebook: I asked for space.
I hate that I needed it. Across town, Vinny sat at his mother’s kitchen table and did not text.
Maria fed him anyway. Victoria posted at 10:14 p.m.; by 10:30, Nico had shared it, and regulars were adding their own stories.
Sophia saw enough to know support was coming and enough to know her name was still everywhere.
Then she put the phone down, opened her textbook, and made herself read until one paragraph finally stayed.