Chapter 29
Tessa
As I tidy up the bedroom, smoothing down the soft cotton sheets that smell like him, I think of Gio.
Gio.
His nickname slipped out of me during our time together in the hilly countryside yesterday. It just felt right. I can’t help but wonder how he felt about me using it. Only his family and close friends call him Gio. I’m not sure where Pretend Girlfriend falls in the rankings.
By the time we got home with the wine and showered, Maria and Roberto had us doing all sorts of things to prepare for the party. We both fell asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow, neither of us energized or focused enough to do anything but dream.
I planned to bring up the bike ride this morning, but it’s the afternoon and I haven’t seen him all day. He mentioned he’d be busy around the house preparing for the party, and I imagine it’ll only get more hectic as guests begin to arrive, but I’m itching to find him and talk about us.
Just as I fluff the last pillow, my phone rings. Daniel.
I answer it right away, and my brother’s face appears on the screen.
“Ciao, Tay-sah! Have-ah you-ah been-ah eating-ah enough-ah lasagna-ah?!”
I immediately spam the volume button on my phone to one, like I’ve been caught listening to a smutty audiobook on speaker at a baptism.
“Jesus, Daniel! That’s offensive. First, that accent is shockingly terrible. Second, Italians aren’t all about—”
“Tessa! I hope you’re hungry! We’re having lasagna for the party tonight!” Maria calls from the hallway.
A victorious grin spreads across Daniel’s face.
“Sounds great, Maria!” I shout through the door.
I sit down on the edge of the bed and sigh. “Okay, they’re allowed to say things like that, they live here. Just stop with the terrible accent, you’re embarrassing our family name.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “What family name? Cohen?”
Snickers fill the background, and I roll my eyes. “Grace, I know you’re there. Stop laughing at me! You’re as bad as him.”
“I’m not laughing, Tess,” Grace chokes out, coming into view. Her red curls nearly match the redness in her cheeks as she presses her tongue into her cheek, trying not to grin. “I swear,” she sputters, before not-so-gracefully stepping out of the frame to resume giggling.
Now all I see is Daniel’s right shoe.
For fuck’s sake, they might as well be two eighty-year-olds trying to make a social media post with the way they’re acting.
I wait for their laughter to die down, but my patience wanes.
“Are you guys done?” I make a show of checking out my nails.
“Sorry.” Grace steps back into the frame, looking sheepish. Daniel joins her, still grinning. That asshole.
“So, how goes it over there, Tessie?”
“It’s been really good. It’s so beautiful here. You should definitely add this to your second honeymoon destination list. The countryside is gorgeous, and the pace is much slower out here, more relaxing.”
Grace sighs. “That sounds wonderful.”
Daniel pecks her on the cheek. “Do you want to go, Gracie girl? I’ll fly us out tomorrow. Whatever you want.”
“You’re flying to New York to do the coin toss before the rival game… for your charity? In case you forgot,” she reminds him.
He tucks a flyaway curl behind her ear, gently tugging on the end of the spiral. “Football schmootball, baby. I’m retired anyways.”
I sigh. “Damn, you two are cute.”
Still gazing into her eyes, Daniel absentmindedly replies, “We know.”
I can’t be mad at their love for one another, even if I’m a little jealous.
“It sounds like Giovanni isn’t making your life miserable yet, huh?” Daniel teases.
“Um, no. For the most part, he’s been unexpectedly great. His family, too,” I gush. “His mom reminds me a lot of your grandmother, G. A tell-it-how-it-is—with a healthy dose of roasting—kinda lady.”
“Aw, I’d love to meet her one day,” Grace replies softly.
I blush. “Oh. Well, I don’t think that would happen. We’re not really… I mean, none of it is actually… What?”
They look at each other knowingly. And then I’m staring at my brother’s shoe again, catching barely audible interjections like, “you” and “no, you.”
Just as I’m about to hit the little red button, G’s sweet face fills the screen.
“I think you should, um, relax,” she says gently, averting her eyes to an off-screen Daniel.
“I am. Things move slower in Italy. It’s easy to relax here.”
“Does that ‘Italy mentality’ apply to you, too? Or are your thoughts still racing at a New York speed?”
“They’re…” I trail off. There’s no use denying it. I’m overthinking, overanalyzing, over everything.
Observing the conflicted emotions I imagine flashing on my face, Grace nods. “Just… be open to anything that might happen over there. Don’t close yourself off. Take risks. Embrace whatever comes your way.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Huh? Why are you being so cryptic?”
My brother pops into frame. “I think what Gracie’s trying to say is wherever you may go, go with all your heart.”
My eyebrows raise in soft surprise. “Wow, Daniel. That’s actually really insightful.”
He nods solemnly before holding up a little slip of paper. “Your lucky numbers are four, eleven, and nine.”
All it takes is one last snicker from my big brother for me to roll my eyes and end the call.
What would it be like to have Daniel and Grace’s soul-deep relationship? The way they support each other no matter what and put each other first? An image of Gio and me pops into my head. He smiles at me, peering over his sewing glasses, and I can practically feel my hand running through his curls.
Would it be so bad to just relax? To let go?
It might’ve taken me a little longer than I’d like to fully realize it, but I’m more confident than ever that Gio is not the man I thought him to be.
Looking at him through the lens of our time in Italy, everything is starting to make more sense.
Maybe his jabs were truly just jokes. Maybe his critiques were just him looking out for me.
And maybe his “lies” were the truth, but I just didn’t know him well enough to understand it.
Though, there’s still the matter of what happened between us on that day two years ago… Don’t go there right now.
Cruelty and callousness are not part of Gio’s character. They don’t even belong in the same sentence as the man I’ve come to know. We’ll figure this out. Together.
“Papa, no!”
My face relaxes into an easy smile upon hearing Gio chastise his dad, probably for a pigeon-related crime, from the garden. And I give myself permission to wonder, for the first time, if it’s my turn.