Chapter 36
ELIZABETH
Vlad and Valentina are getting married.
We're in a beautiful historic stone church, with sunlight pouring through the stained-glass windows and my friend is getting his happy ever after, and I should be happy.
I am, I tell myself.
Even if my own relationship is in tatters.
Intrusive thoughts gnaw into my brain, and tension coils in my stomach. I can't enjoy the beautiful wedding taking place in front of me.
Beside me Matteo is silent and distant, like he has been all morning.
I glance at him quickly only to find him staring ahead at the stained-glass window, not watching the ceremony.
It feels like he’s checked out of this place, this event, this vacation, and is just sitting beside me, distant and detached, like a bodyguard, not my lover.
He doesn't trust me because he seems convinced that I have something to do with the tech issues at work.
Me.
My mind's been spinning furiously ever since he broke the news and I’ve been trying to figure out who could have used my credentials and tried to mimic me.
The possibilities loop around in my head, while I stare at Vlad and Valentina exchanging vows.
It’s romantic and beautiful, but I stare at them blankly, my mind elsewhere.
A burst of applause jolts me back to the present. The newlyweds share a kiss and moments later they’re walking hand in hand down the aisle, smiling as family and friends rise to their feet around them.
Something heavy sinks in my chest.
They look so happy.
So certain.
Standing beside Matteo, I don't know if we're about to fall apart.
Takumi and the others have split off into their own little groups. People have made friends but Matteo and I aren’t attached to the crowd. We keep our distance away from everyone else.
It really does feel like we're at a funeral.
Soon after, the arranged transport takes us to the reception which takes place in a historic courtyard overlooking the sea.
The evening is warm and the salty air and music drift across the terrace.
Wine and champagne flow, canapes arrive, glasses clink and laughter rolls out into the evening sky.
It’s everything a happy wedding party should be.
During all this, Matteo and I stand on the edges, looking on like we don't belong, like we've accidentally joined the wrong event.
I'm emotionally exhausted. A sideways glance at Matteo confirms he's still shut down.
He's here in body, but that's about it. I can't see things between us improving at all.
He stands a few feet away from me in the courtyard, where we're supposed to be mingling with the other guests, but his expression is so grim that nobody dares approach us.
Even Takumi hesitated when he caught sight of us.
When we take our allotted places at the beautifully dressed dinner table ablaze with flowers and candles in glass containers, I'm relieved to find that we're not sitting with anyone from the gang. Vlad must have understood.
Neither of us knows the other couples on our table, and with Matteo's face looking like thunder, no one talks to us.
But my heart bleeds with misery, sitting here in a beautiful setting, on an otherwise idyllic evening. We’ve just finished the first course. Matteo barely touched his food, opting instead for another beer.
He turns to me, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since we sat down. “I'm leaving, now. I've decided to go and see my mom earlier than planned.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. Everything I've just eaten seems to plummet inside my stomach. I almost drop my wine glass. Around us, the guests at the table, the flowers, candles and platters of food, all blur out of focus.
“W-what did you say?” Surely I misheard.
“I'm going to Soave. Now.”
Now?
My breath catches in my throat. I set down my wineglass with trembling fingers, afraid I’m going to drop it.
He's leaving.
He stands up and grabs his phone.
“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” he murmurs quietly, before walking away.
None of the others realize what's happening, and why should they? The couples are laughing and chattering and enjoying their meal. I sit there, momentarily stunned. The words don’t make sense.
Around me, the reception continues as though nothing has happened.
Someone laughs. Chatter fills the air. Glasses clink.
I hear the sound of cutlery on plates. Candlelight flickers softly.
And in all this, my world is collapsing.
Nobody notices.
He can’t leave. Not like this. I push back my chair so hard that it nearly topples over, and I rush after him, my heart thrashing against my ribs. Panic claws my insides with every step.
This feels worse than an argument.
It feels final.
I catch up to him near the edge of the terrace. He looks devastatingly handsome in his black blazer, dark jeans and fitted black shirt. The sea breeze lifts his hair as he turns towards me, breaking my heart all over again.
“You're leaving? B-but you said—” My voice cracks.
“I changed my mind.”
He can't bear to spend another moment with me. The rejection feels like a whip against my face.
“But you said—”
“Doesn't matter what I said before. Things have changed.”
Things have changed.
His words slice through me.
He’s breaking up with me. I almost grab his wrist. Almost, but I manage to find my dignity and resist.
“I can’t stay here any longer. The wedding’s been great, and everything. Please give Vlad my—”
“Do you have to go right now?”
He gives me a look that makes me shiver. A look filled with loathing.
“I do, as it happens.”
He's leaving me because he believes the lies. Because whatever we had wasn't enough for him to trust me.
“Please, Matteo. Please don't do this. I'll explain everything.”
I place my hands on his chest, desperate enough to beg. Desperate enough to stop caring about my pride.
He flinches, and my heart cracks a little more.
I'll tell him everything. Every ugly, embarrassing piece of my past. And if he tells his father and I lose my job, so be it.
“You had your chance last night. You want to explain now? Now that you've had time to figure out a story and ...” He shrugs, “I don't know, cover your tracks?”
He seems so convinced.
“Someone is planting evidence against me.”
He shakes his head and makes to move away, like he can't bear to listen anymore. “I need a little distance from you.”
The words knock the breath from my lungs and I stumble back a few steps, reeling from his words that are as vicious as a slap. He walks away, leaving me feeling small and wretched, like I'm unwanted. Disposable.
I find myself thinking, should I stay here for the next two days? I can’t, not with the way Matteo has left.
But Vlad wouldn't like it if I cut my vacation short and I don’t want to get him involved in my problems—even though he'll see through whatever lies I come up with to explain Matteo’s absence.
He'll figure out that something's wrong.
If he knows I'm hurt, he'll want to fix it and the last thing I need is for him to get involved in mine and Matteo's lives.
When I walk back to the table, Vlad is watching me. He throws his hands up in the air, as if to ask me what’s happened.
I shake my head, plaster on a smile and wave at him dismissively, like it’s no big deal.
But it’s the biggest, biggest, biggest deal, and I am heartbroken.
***
MATTEO
The journey from Dubrovnik passes in a blur.
I spend most of the flight staring out of the window of the small, chartered jet, watching the darkness swallow the Adriatic below. Elizabeth’s face haunts me every time I close my eyes. I see the hurt in her eyes.
The lies.
The evidence.
And yet none of it makes sense.
By the time I land near Verona, at the airport closest to Soave, where Mama lives, I have a throbbing headache.
I take a taxi to her house, and the familiar drive is quiet, the roads almost empty at this hour.
As the car winds through the ancient town walls and narrow streets, something inside me begins to loosen.
For the first time in days, I don't feel like I'm bracing for impact. It's been like that being with Elizabeth and her friends. She's been on tenterhooks, and so have I.
The driver pulls up outside Mama's house just before nine o'clock and I climb out and make my way up the stone path.
I didn't tell Mama I was coming, but I see her watching through the windows, and I catch the way her face brightens when she sees me.
The front door swings open.
“Matteo!” She clasps her hands to her chest. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly. She's so tiny, a slip of a woman who is easily engulfed in my hug.
I exhale a sigh of contentment. After the headfuckery of the last few days, this feels like home.
“You came home, figlio mio.”
My son.
Her comforting words heal my bruised heart. I didn't realize how much I needed to hear them.
I step inside the house, immediately assailed by the scent of garlic, tomatoes, fresh bread, and the faint sweetness of something baking in the oven.
After the chaos of the last few days, after everything that's happened with Elizabeth, I can finally let go and unwind.
Being here illustrates just how complicated everything with Elizabeth has been.
It's such a contrast from what we had. She meant something to me.
She was precious and different, and perfect, but now I question everything that happened between us.
I wonder if she's been planted into my world, into Knight Enterprises, for sinister motives.
I don't know what to think, but I have a code when it comes to relationships. The lying and the cheating. The secrets. I never thought I’d suffer the same as Mama.
Elizabeth isn’t cheating on me. That much I’m sure of, but it’s what she refuses to tell me, the words she doesn’t say, the past she doesn’t explain, the secrets she keeps, that bother me.
Because of the things I know.
Soon, I’m sitting down at the kitchen table, while Mama fusses around me. I told her I was hungry and tired and she’s getting food ready for me as she asks a hundred questions. She wants to know about the wedding, and my trip to Croatia. She wants to know about Elizabeth.
She plates a heaping portion of pasta and her to-die-for pasta sauce and meatballs, and sets it in front of me.
“Let’s call the boys,” she says. She insists on Facetime calls whenever one of us visits, so that we can all feel like we're there. She misses us, that’s obvious to see, and I hate to diminish her joy, but my heart isn't in it, not at this moment.
“Can I eat first, please, Mama?”
“Of course,” she says. “We’ll call the boys tomorrow.”
She sits down and watches me eat, a permanent smile on her face.