Chapter Eighteen #2
Hatred of me was galvanizing for voters, that’s what Kate said whenever I was wary my verbal takedowns went too far.
The more they talked about me on the news, the better for me overall.
The attacks, the vitriol, were good as long as they were met equally with progress on my campaign promises. The abuse was worth it until it wasn’t.
I don’t miss the death threats, the security scares, the spamming from trolls, but I miss the high of doing something right.
Those moments snapped everything into focus.
It wasn’t just about me, that’s what I always said to voters, to the media, it was about the people.
I was meant to be a representative of the people.
The only thing I had that was solely for me was Levi, and he turned out to be my downfall.
Now my entire life is for me, and I’m not going to let how I used to see the world make me feel guilty for that.
I tried. I really, really tried, and it didn’t work.
Why would I go back to a life of public service now that I’ve seen the other side?
Now that I know the public turns on you the second you admit you’re imperfect.
I’m significantly buzzed when I leave coffee/lunch/drinks at around 5 p.m. The sun is starting to set, leaving bright pink streaks through the sky.
I walk past the duomo, the clock tower, the center of town with its various shops, bars, and restaurants, all bustling much more than they were three months ago.
I try to capture a whiff of pride. This is because of me, right?
I came to La Musa and now it is in better economic shape because of me. Why doesn’t it feel like a victory?
I walk into the house to find Benito and Anita conversing in Italian in the kitchen. They stop when I walk in. “Izzy!” Anita says brightly. “You’ll join us all for dinner tonight?” I don’t know who “us all” includes, but I nod. “Perfetto!” Anita chimes.
Benito pours us each a glass of wine and Anita takes hers to the backyard. Once we’re alone, I turn to him. “How’d it go with your father?” I ask.
Benito runs his finger along the stem of his glass. “We were able to reach an agreement.”
I wait for him to face me and tell me the whole story, but he doesn’t. “. . . And?”
Benito takes a long sip of wine and looks in my direction, not quite meeting my eyes. “He convinced me that converting the old estate into a hotel is the right move. We have more tourists than the inns in town can handle, and it’s a beautiful property. It does no use to anyone sitting vacant.”
It’s a reasonable compromise. A small, luxury resort in a historic villa that would make La Musa more attractive to high-end tourists is not the end of the world. “Ok. That makes sense. What about the rest?”
He glances around the room as if he’s making sure no one else is within earshot. “He agreed to kill the deal on developing the rest of town.”
I grin, but Benito’s still stoic. “That’s great!” I nudge him with my elbow. “Why aren’t you more excited?”
He takes a deep breath. “There are strings attached. With my father there always is.”
“I’m not surprised.” I laugh. “I knew Raffaello wouldn’t walk away from a deal with nothing. What are the strings?”
Benito looks back down at his wine glass. “I’d have to go work for him.”
My heart sinks. That’s the last thing Benito would want. “In Milan?”
He shakes his head. “In London.”
The bottom of my stomach hollows out and I worry I’m about to vomit up the three Aperol Spritzes in my system. “But you’re not doing it, right?”
Benito’s eyes finally meet mine. They’re not as bright, not as sparkly as I know them to be. “I don’t think I have a choice.”
The edges of my limbs tingle and every nerve in my body shatters.
I’ve felt this way once before. A mountain forms in my throat and when I open my mouth to speak, no words come out.
Benito swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down like an unanchored rowboat. He clasps his fingers around mine.
I try to process what this means. Benito agreed to move back to London, just like that. Sutton’s getting what she wants, she warned me she always does. Only, I didn’t think it’d be that easy. I didn’t think Benito would leave me so easily. “I—”
We’re interrupted when Anita walks back into the house.
Benito gives me a pointed look and shakes his head.
He hasn’t told his mother yet, but I’m certain he’ll spin it so she’ll be thrilled.
She knew Benito didn’t want to come back here and now he’s going back to London, where he always wanted to be.
I was so worried about convincing him I wasn’t a flight risk that I never stopped to consider that he might be the one to leave.
My stomach churns. I should’ve eaten more today.
“Izzy, are you alright?” Anita asks. “You look ill.”
I hold up a finger. “Fine,” I choke out.
“I just need some air.” I put my wine glass down on the counter and flee out the front of the house.
I inhale sharply when the fresh air greets me outside.
The front door creaks open and I see that Benito’s followed me.
He wordlessly leans against the fence next to me. “What the hell?” I croak out.
Benito takes a deep breath and revels in a long blink. “I know how it must sound to you—”
“It sounds like you’re going back to London,” I say, the tears starting to work their way out from the inner corners of my eyes.
He takes a step toward me. “All he’s wanted this whole time was for me to come back to the company and secure my destiny. It’s been his plan. It’s why he’s done everything that he’s done. Sutton said—”
A rage fire erupts in my chest. “Sutton? You talked to Sutton about this?”
Benito’s eyes flash to mine and I see a glint of frustration. “Only to get her perspective on everything. She’s the only one who knows my father like I do.”
“Sutton wants you. Sutton wants you back in London. Of course she’d tell you to take it.
” I feel hoarse, like I’ve been scream-singing for hours at a concert.
I try to make sense of where I am. Are my feet on the ground?
Because it feels like my whole world has been flipped upside down.
Again. “How do you know your father will keep his word?”
Benito exhales loudly. “I don’t. He made a lot of promises, but I don’t know that I trust him.”
“This is the worst quid pro quo ever,” I say. Benito smirks. I hate that I amused him when it’s taking everything in me not to slap him across his perfect face. “You’re leaving me. Just like that. After everything?”
I see him swallow hard again, like my words are unpalatable but he has no choice but to accept them. “I’m leaving. I’m not leaving you.”
I roll my eyes. What difference does it make?
“Don’t sugarcoat this. Don’t try to make this better.
You’re still leaving. You sacrificed yourself.
You’re the hero. The savior of La Musa. You traded your watch for gold combs for my hair, and I sold my hair for a chain for your watch.
We’re tragic. You’ll always wonder about Izzy, the one who got away.
And I’ll be sitting on a porch when I’m 80, telling my grandchildren about my fleeting few months with the hot, young Italian mayor.
Whatever. It doesn’t change the facts. You’re leaving me. ”
He takes another step closer and reaches out for me, but I flinch back. “Izzy, I’m not leaving you. I’m getting out of your way.”
My eyes roll so hard I think they might finally get stuck that way like my mother always warned. “That’s a twisted way to look at it.”
“What steps have you taken to actually make a life here, Izzy? You don’t have your own housing—”
“Not yet,” I say. “But I’ll start looking.”
Benito ignores me. “You’ve barely learned any Italian—”
“I haven’t gotten around to it yet. I can start.”
“You don’t have a job—”
“I’ll get one at a flower shop or something.”
“There is no flower shop in La Musa!” Benito practically screams.
“Wait, really?” I realize he’s right, and every time I’ve bought flowers in town is at the farmers market. So much for that idea. “That doesn’t track.”
“See, you’ve made no real plans, Izzy. None.”
I look at him; there’s a pleading in his eyes. If I weren’t so annoyed with him, his pained expression would break my heart.
Benito sighs, his hand finding its way through his hair.
“You say you want this to be your home and yet you’ve done nothing to make it your home.
I am tired of pretending to go along with it all when I know you will not stay here.
I can’t be a part of this delusion that you can have a quiet, complication-free life. ”
I try to burn a hole through his face with the rage behind my eyes. Not 12 hours ago he very happily took part in that delusion. “Yes, I can.”
“No, you can’t. That’s not how life works, and more importantly, that’s not how you work.
Look at how that plan’s worked out so far.
You fought against the town’s development since day one, you took on my father, his business associates, Sutton.
It is not in your nature to be an inactive participant in the world.
Soon you will realize that, but I suspect you already do. Sutton said—”
I cut him off. That’s enough. “Sutton doesn’t know a thing about me. She wanted me to be mayor.”
“You should be the mayor!” Benito yells, though he’s not angry.
It’s like he’s pleading with me. An impassioned lawyer making his case.
“Or the CEO of something, or a businessowner, or. . .” He takes a step toward me.
“Or president.” I glare at him; how dare he throw that in my face.
The dream I now recognize as childish and na?ve, the one I know will never come true.
“The point is, Izzy. You could never be nothing.”
I absorb his words. After every argument we’ve had, I thought he finally understood my mission. Better yet, I thought he wanted to be a part of it. “If you don’t want me, there are easier ways to break it off,” I say.
Benito runs both his hands through his hair again and shakes his head.
“It’s not that. Please know that. If it were as simple as being with you or not, I’d choose you.
” He takes a step closer. “I see you. I always have. I see how amazing you are. I see how smart you are. I see how one-of-a-kind you are. I want to be around you all the time. I know if I stayed, I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you, but I can’t be part of letting you throw that all away.
I want you to want more for yourself. You should want more for yourself. ”
A chill runs down my spine. I don’t know how many ways I can say that I’m not that person before he will finally believe it. “I told you. I don’t want to be the person I was anymore.”
Benito is silent for a few moments then shakes his head again. “That’s just it, Izzy. You can never stop being who you are.” He looks off in the distance, like he’s staring at a future that is certain to everyone except for me. “Soon you’ll see that.”
“Fuck that,” I say breathlessly. I’m out of fight.
I’m out of energy. If even Benito can’t see that I’m really, truly done, how will anyone else?
What corner of the earth do I have to move to to finally convince everyone that I am done caring?
That I am done trying? “Have a nice life in London. With Sutton.”
Benito stares at me. I try to discern what exact emotion is behind his gaze but he’s impossible to read. “I wish things worked out differently,” he says.
I cannot possibly utter another word without erupting into a full-blown sob, so I say nothing.
Benito watches me for a moment before turning and walking back inside.
As soon as he’s gone, I sink to my heels.
I let the tears loose and fear I’ll never be able to contain them again.
I run upstairs to my bedroom and slam the door shut.