Chapter 19 #2
Sometime in the middle of the night, a vibration hums beneath my cheek. I blink awake, confused for a moment before remembering the phone tucked inside my pillowcase. Still half asleep, I slide it out and squint at the screen, only to find a flood of texts from… Caro Mio.
That’s the name I’ve chosen to go with when dealing with the after-midnight version of Raffaele.
I only have to skim his texts to see he’s back to being the friend I’ve given so much of myself to these last months.
Caro Mio: You’re upset, and you have every right to be.
Caro Mio: That wasn’t me earlier. I promise you, that it wasn’t.
Caro Mio: The real me would never have treated you so poorly.
Caro Mio: I’m so sorry, Anna. That was not the version of the friend you deserve.
Caro Mio: We are still friends, aren’t we?
Caro Mio: I’m starting to think that call was a bad idea. Why aren’t you texting me back, Anna?
Caro Mio: I can’t sleep without talking to you anymore. Do you know that? Do you know the best part of my day is those few stolen moments where I get to be myself with you?
Caro Mio: Anna, sweetheart, are you there?
Caro Mio: I’m worried now. Please tell me you’re okay. Please.
The anxiety in that last text pulls at me, and to my own annoyance, I send a reply.
Me: I’m here. I’m okay.
His response is immediate.
Caro Mio: Thank Christ. I was starting to panic. Why didn’t you answer me earlier?
When no answer comes, another text follows.
Caro Mio: Silent treatment? I guess I deserve that.
Caro Mio: You’re right in being upset with me. But I promise you, that idiot who talked to you on the phone this morning wasn’t me.
Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I send him a reply back, a sarcastic one with a bit more bite to it than I’m accustomed to typing.
Me: It sure looked like you.
Caro Mio: It wasn’t, Anna. I promise you that much. I would never intentionally hurt you.
Was that what he did? Yes, yes, it was. If hurting me had been the goal all along, then he succeeded.
Me: Were you drunk? You sounded drunk.
Stella always says that when people get tipsy, they show their true face. The thought has been sitting heavily in my mind, trying to rationalize what made him act out like that.
The little typing bubbles pop up on the screen, and instead of the yes-or-no answer I was expecting, something else appears.
Caro Mio: No amount of alcohol could ever make me want to hurt you.
I know that’s what happened this morning, and for that, I apologize.
If things were different, and I could talk to you again like I wanted to, then I would have spent the precious time I had telling you how happy I was to see your face.
How even the sound of your voice eases the knot in my chest I’ve been carrying for longer than I care to admit.
I would have done it all so differently, cara mia. So very differently, if I could.
Teeth sink into my lower lip, but I don’t dare reply. If he wanted to do all that, then there was nothing stopping him. All these pretty words don’t justify his bad behavior.
Caro Mio: You’ve gone quiet again. Your silence troubles me.
Me: I’m not sure what you want me to say.
Caro Mio: I know.
Caro Mio: Can I ask you a question then?
Me: That depends.
Caro Mio: On?
Exhaustion settles deep in my bones with each text. After the busy day with my family, paired with the emotional wreckage his morning call left behind, a round of twenty questions is the last thing I can handle right now. Still, fingers move of their own accord, relenting to his request.
Me: What do you want to know?
Caro Mio: What do you feel for me? Honestly.
That wakes me up.
Me: I don’t understand the question.
Caro Mio: I think you do, sweetheart.
Caro Mio: Am I just your friend? Is that all I am to you?
I read the text again, the air turning thin, as if it were siphoned out of the room. I’ve somehow stepped into a trap without ever seeing the snare.
Was that why he told me that story earlier about his rivalry with Matteo over some girl? A childish attempt to get a rise from me so he could measure my feelings for him? If that was his plan, he went about it the wrong way. All it did was confuse me more.
Honesty hovers at the tip of my tongue, but self-preservation wins out in the end.
Me: You’re my best friend. My only true friend outside my siblings. I care for you a great deal.
It’s not a lie.
I care about him. More than I probably should.
But after his peculiar behavior earlier, I don’t feel safe enough to be truly honest. Maybe if he had asked me after his gift arrived yesterday, my answer would have been different.
Perhaps I would have had the courage to tell him I’m falling in love with him.
Now I’m just confused, wondering if the man I was falling for even exists.
Caro Mio: You care for me?
Me: Yes.
Three dots appear, disappear, then appear again.
Caro Mio: How tragic to read such lukewarm words from the same woman who consumes my every waking thought and haunts all my dreams.
Caro Mio: Good night, vita mia. Maybe one day I’ll get a different answer.
The screen goes still after his goodbye. And just like that, going back to sleep becomes impossible.