Chapter 19
Annamaria
Eighteen years old.
Snow falls quietly beyond the backyard lawn as I sit at the grand piano, arms crossed over its gleaming surface, my chin resting on folded wrists.
Music refuses to come to me today. Strange, considering I spent most of the night awake, too exhilarated by Raffaele’s gift to think something as trivial as sleep deserved my attention.
All that excitement vanished after that weird phone call I got from him this morning, though.
Part of me wishes I hadn’t insisted on seeing him at all.
Somewhere along the way, the version of Raffaele in my head had evolved into someone else entirely.
Someone older. Wiser. A man layered with a depth the boy I once knew didn’t possess.
A man unafraid to show his softness, even if his edges were still sharp as razor blades.
Still, that illusion was shattered the second we FaceTimed.
He wasn’t transformed. He wasn’t some newly matured version of himself.
He was still Raffaele. Still the same reckless, charming rascal I befriended at thirteen.
And that should’ve been fine. That version of him had always been safe.
Predictable. With him, my feet stayed firmly on the ground.
The one who’d been texting me nonstop since we reconnected last spring was different. He made the air feel thinner. Made my pulse stumble. Sometimes it felt like my heart only knew how to beat properly after seeing his name light up my screen.
So why does it feel like I just lost something precious in that single phone call?
Is it because seeing Raffaele in real time reminded me that words typed in the quiet of night don’t always translate into who someone is during the day?
Maybe he hasn’t yet become the man I imagined.
Maybe the version of himself he shows through a screen is simply easier to curate than the one he lives out loud.
God, now I’m making excuses for him. The thought alone makes my stomach twist.
One minute I’m defending Raffaele, the next I’m questioning everything I know about him.
But what was that, really?
Last night, he made a string of excuses about why he couldn’t video chat with me. Said he was too busy with family obligations to make the call. Then this morning, he casually mentioned going out and partying all night. So which one is it? Which version of the truth am I supposed to believe?
Then again, why should it be any concern of mine? He’s a single twenty-year-old living in the city that never sleeps. What else did I expect him to do with his free time? Sit around the house and think about me all day?
The very fact that the thought even crossed my mind makes my cheeks burn in embarrassment.
Come on, Anna. Get over yourself.
“That’s the fifth sigh I’ve heard since you sat down,” Stella calls from behind me.
“Is it? I wasn’t counting.” I let out another sigh, turning my head toward her as I slump further over the piano.
Stella slides in beside me on the bench and mirrors my posture, resting her chin on her folded arms next to mine.
“Sounds like boy trouble to me.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Kind of, yeah.” She gives me one of her soft, knowing smiles. “You know who sent you this piano, don’t you? It’s the boy you’re always texting, right?”
I don’t offer my sister a reply. Not like Stella needs one to know she’s hit the nail on the head.
She may not know I’ve been talking to Raffaele on and off for years, but she does know about the second phone I go to great lengths to keep hidden. She’s smart enough to connect the dots and realize it’s not just for scrolling through the internet.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me who he is. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thank you.” A small smile forms on my lips.
“But do you want to talk about it? You look awfully bummed after getting such an over-the-top gift from your crush.”
Is that what Raffaele is? A crush? It feels like more.
I chew on the inside of my lip for a moment before gathering the courage to ask Stella for advice.
“Is it possible for a person to have two different sides to them? One that’s sweet and attentive, and the other kind of inconsiderate?”
“Sounds like you’ve got a Jekyll and Hyde situation over there.” She frowns. “Hate to tell you, sis, but if a guy treats you one way one day and another the next, that’s a huge red flag right there.”
“Really?” Doubt lingers in my voice. “Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m the same person I was yesterday. People change, right?”
“What you’re referring to is growth. Your crush love-bombing you one day with expensive gifts and being a jerk the next is some toxic-ass behavior, if you ask me. Not someone you should waste your time on.”
“Oh.” A frown pulls at my lips.
“Sorry, sis.” She softens a little. “Sounds to me like his mask just dropped, that’s all. Some people are like that. They show you the best version of themselves first to get you hooked, then pull the rug out from under you when they reveal who they really are. It happens more than you think.”
Stella’s words make sense, but they fail to bring me any real clarity.
This morning felt like I was talking to the Raffaele from five years ago, not the one I’ve been building in my head for almost a year.
Now I’m left wondering which version is real, and whether I imagined the one that made my heart race.
It definitely feels like Raffaele has two opposing sides to him, and I don’t know which one to trust.
“I’m in no mood to play piano today. I might just go upstairs and take a nap.”
“Are you sure? We could go out or something. Maybe grab a movie. Do something fun to get your mind off things. I’m sure I can wrangle Frankie and Izzie to come with us. We’ll make it a girls’ afternoon out.”
“Actually, that sounds kind of nice. I’d love that.”
“Thought you would.” She playfully bops the tip of my nose. “Go grab your things, and I’ll get Frankie and Izzie.”
“Okay.” An excited giggle escapes me, happiness bubbling at the thought of spending quality time with my sisters.
Moments like these are rare now that we’re all grown and scattered into our own lives, so I’m more than happy to savor them while I can.
With everyone staying here at the mansion until New Year’s, and Jude and Mina arriving tomorrow, there’s bound to be more than one opportunity to spend time with my brothers and sisters.
The Salvatore mansion isn’t technically our family home, but having everyone under the same roof, even just for a week, brings back that nostalgic feeling from when we were kids. It’s nice. A welcome distraction from my love life.
What love life, Anna? Raffaele is just your friend, remember?
The thought gets shaken away as I rush upstairs to grab my purse, winter coat, scarf, and gloves. Chicago winters aren’t anything to joke about, so even though the outing sounds fun, freezing to death over poor wardrobe choices isn’t on the agenda.
Just as I reach for the door, eager to find Stella, a familiar sound stops me.
Damn it.
I drop my things back onto the bed, then get the pillow to retrieve the phone hidden inside the case. Sure enough, one text waits for me.
Caro Mio: I’m sorry.
Two simple words stare back at me, and I have no idea how I should feel about them.
What exactly is Raffaele apologizing for?
The aloof way he spoke to me earlier? For telling me he was too busy to talk last night when in reality he had been out partying and couldn’t spare more than a few words to me?
Or is he sorry for bragging about some other girl his brother Matteo has feelings for, who has somehow fallen for Raffaele instead?
Because that’s exactly how it came across.
Like he was taking a victory lap of some kind.
It felt cold, inconsiderate, and, honestly, extremely spiteful—adjectives I never thought I’d use to describe him.
But why say such a thing to me, of all people? Was it meant to get some kind of reaction out of me? To make me ask if he loved this unknown woman back? Or was it just to hurt me? What was the point of any of it?
For a second, I hesitate over whether or not to reply, but before common sense can intervene, my fingers hit the send button.
Me: What are you sorry for?
Caro Mio: I’m just sorry.
Not good enough. Instead of answering again, I slide the phone back into its hiding place. I scoop up my purse and coat next, and I walk out the door.
If only all my problems were as easy to leave behind.
Fun was exactly what the rest of the day turned into. Not once did Raffaele or that God-awful phone call cross my mind. Instead, I spent the time enjoying my siblings.
Stella, Frankie, Isobel, and I ended up at a 90s movie double feature appropriately titled Girls Who Ruled the Decade. First up was 10 Things I Hate About You, followed by She’s All That. The movies were predictable, a little cheesy, and absolutely perfect for lifting my spirits.
Our girls’ afternoon got cut short when Lucky, Kirill, and Marcello stopped by the theater, insisting on taking us out for ice cream at the parlor where I work part-time after school.
Being there with my coworkers and siblings made everything feel warm and familiar.
The rest of the afternoon slipped by in laughter and light teasing.
The fun didn’t stop there. Dinner back at the mansion included my parents, Enzo, and Alejandro, followed by a heated game of Monopoly that stretched well into the early hours of the morning.
By two in the morning, my eyelids refused to cooperate, so I dramatically sold every last property I owned to Alejandro, who had been losing spectacularly, for a single dollar.
The only thing I managed to do when I got to my bedroom was brush my teeth and change into pajamas. The second my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.