Chapter 39
Matteo
“WHAT IS DIS?” I held up a flyer.
Izzy crossed the room and snatched it from my hands. “You went in my purse?”
“I needed to move the Vespa out of da garage. I thought the keys might be in there.”
“They’re not.”
“I know that now.”
“So when you didn’t find them, you decided to rummage through my things?”
“I didn’t rummage,” I said, fighting to keep my tone calm when I felt anything but. “It was sitting right on top.”
“I was going to tell you about it.”
“When? The show is in two days.” I could feel my chest tightening. Izzy’s latest passion was painting, and it had taken off in a way that neither of us expected. A gallery in Rome was giving her a week-long solo exhibition. I was proud of her. I was. But right now, I felt blindsided.
Izzy cinched her towel tighter around her body. “I hadn’t figured out how to bring it up yet.”
“How about just saying it? Hey, Matteo, guess what? Da guy I used to fuck is going to serenade me while I show my art.”
“It’s not like that. The gallery thought it would be a good idea to play music, but the budget was small. We couldn’t find anyone else to do it unless they paid double, so…” She looked away.
“You told me you weren’t going to write to him anymore.”
“I didn’t,” she said quickly, though I wasn’t sure I believed her. “I stopped when you asked me to. But when they couldn’t find anyone, I looked up his band online. There was a phone number, so I called. He said he’d do it for free.”
I scoffed. “Sure. Because that’s not how he wants you to pay him, Izzy.”
She flinched. “You think I would sleep with him for payment? I’m not a whore.”
“I don’t know what to think, Izzy. Because you didn’t give me a chance to consider it. Like my thoughts didn’t matter.” My voice grew hoarse. “I feel like you have a whole life I’m not part of. Yoga. Painting. Art shows. Musicians from your past.”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would react like this.”
“I’m your husband. Of course I’m going to be upset if you’re spending time with a man you used to sleep with. Is dis why the show is during harvest? The busiest time of the year? Because you knew I wouldn’t be able to come?” I stared at her, breathing hard.
She shook her head and turned back toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry.”
“Great!” I yelled as the door clicked shut. “Walk away. Like you always do.”
***
The sound of the front door creaking open ten days later instantly sobered me up, despite having finished most of a bottle of wine. Alone. At the kitchen table.
Izzy stood in the doorway and whispered, “Hey.”
I lifted my wine glass to my lips and knocked back the remainder. “Guess da show lasted longer than a week.” We’d made up before she left, but things had still felt off. Even more so after she was supposed to come back yesterday and didn’t. Without calling.
“We sold out the entire collection, so I stayed to celebrate last night.”
“Congratulations,” I said flatly, without looking up.
Izzy sighed. “I need to talk to you.”
I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. I knew that deep in my gut. Yet I gestured to the chair across from me. “Get a glass. And your own bottle. I have a feeling I’m going to be needing the rest of this one myself.”
She sat down across from me without any wine. Her lips parted, but then she closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts before she finally spoke. “I need to leave, Matteo. For good.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut. “Because of him? The musician?”
She swallowed before meeting my gaze. “No. At least not the way you think.”
I should’ve yelled. I should’ve gotten angry or upset or…something. But instead, I felt numb. “Then why?”
She let out a shaky breath. “I was listening to Johan talk. About all the places he’s been, the music he’s played, the adventures he’s been on. And I realized I want that. I want more out of life than this.”
I felt the air rush out of my lungs.
“I know you probably won’t believe me, but I do love you. I just… I just feel like I can’t breathe when I’m here. We want two different things.”
I wanted to argue, wanted to tell her she was making the biggest mistake of her life. But instead, I sat, stunned by the finality in her voice.
“I’m sorry, Matteo. I truly am.”