28. Alex
Alex
The airport in Florence was extremely crowded, tourists shouting to one another in at least fourteen different languages while the announcement system droned on in Italian.
I felt like I was moving through water as I made my way through security.
Every step felt sluggish, my body going through the motions while my mind remained firmly back in Livorno.
The TSA agent barely glanced at my passport before waving me through.
I envied her ability to be so unmoved by the chaos around us.
My mother was already at the gate when I arrived, scrolling through her phone with a contentment I couldn’t quite fathom. How was she so excited about going home when I felt like I was being ripped in half?
“There you are,” she said, looking up with a smile. “I grabbed you some coffee since you didn’t get any back at the villa. It’s airport coffee, but it’s better than nothing.”
I took the cup from her hands, the heat of it grounding me slightly. “Thanks, Mom.”
She studied my face for a moment, and I could see her considering saying something. Instead, she just squeezed my arm and went back to her phone. I was grateful for her restraint. I didn’t think I could handle any more concern right now without completely falling apart.
The gate area was packed. Families with crying children, businessmen tapping away on laptops, elderly couples holding hands.
I found a seat near the window and stared out at the tarmac, watching planes take off and land with mechanical precision.
How was I supposed to get on one of those and fly away from the only person I’d ever truly enjoyed being with?
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from an unknown number. My heart leaped before I even looked at it, foolishly hoping it might be Leo. But it wasn’t. It was a message from Amanda.
Hope you had a nice vacation. Shame it had to end. Believe me, it doesn’t matter that you’re gay now. Nobody’s ever going to want to be with someone like you anyway.
I deleted it without responding, my hands shaking with a mixture of anger and despair. She’d got what she wanted. She’d called upon my fears and in response, I destroyed any chance I had at happiness, just like I’d destroyed my marriage. And now she was rubbing salt in the wound.
“Boarding Group A,” the announcement came through the speakers.
My mother stood up, gathering her carry-on. “That’s us,” she said, my stepfather standing beside her.
I followed them both to the line, watching as families shuffled toward the gate agent. This was really happening. I was really leaving. In a matter of hours, I’d be back in New York in my empty apartment, trying to figure out how to rebuild a life that suddenly felt completely meaningless.
We were halfway through the boarding process when I stopped dead in my tracks.
“I… I can’t do this,” I said.
I could feel the weight of those words hanging in the air between us, and I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It sounded like it was coming from someone else, someone braver than me.
My mother turned, her eyes widening. “Alex? What do you mean you can’t do this?”
“I mean...” I looked at her, then at Michael, then back at the gate agent who was watching us with barely concealed impatience. “I can’t get on that plane.”
“Sweetheart, you’re just tired,” my mother said, reaching for my arm. “Come on, we need to board.”
“No.” I shook my head, stepping back. “No, I’m not getting on that plane. I’m staying.”
Michael’s expression shifted, and I could see understanding dawn across his weathered face. He looked at my mother, then back at me, and something like approval flickered in his eyes.
“Alex, what are you talking about?” My mother’s voice had risen, drawing curious glances from other passengers. “Your apartment is in New York. Your life is there.”
“No, it’s not,” I said, and the certainty in my voice surprised even me. “My life isn’t there. My life is back in Livorno. With Leo.”
The words hung between us, exposed and raw. I’d said it. I’d actually said it out loud in a crowded airport with hundreds of people around us. And somehow, instead of feeling terrified, I felt lighter.
My mother’s face went pale. “Alex... what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m in love with him,” I said, the words tumbling out now that the dam had broken.
“I’m saying that these past two weeks have been the best of my life, and I was too much of a coward to admit it.
I was too scared of what you’d think, what people would think, and so I hurt him.
I hurt the one person who actually gives a shit about me, and I’ve been miserable every second since. ”
“This is insane,” my mother breathed. “He’s your stepbrother.”
“I know,” I said. “Believe me, I know. And I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what anyone thinks. All I know is that I can’t get on this plane. I can’t leave him behind.”
Michael put a hand on my mother’s shoulder. “Diane,” he said quietly. “Let him go.”
She looked at her husband like he’d lost his mind. “Michael, he can’t just—”
“Yes, he can,” Michael said firmly. “And he should. I tried to tell him this in the garden, and I’m glad he’s finally listening.”
I grabbed my carry-on bag, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I said to my mother. “I’m sorry if this is strange to you. I’m sorry for everything. But I have to do this. I have to go back.”
“What about your apartment? Your life?!” she called after me as I turned away from the gate. “What will people say?”
“I don’t care about any of that,” I called back over my shoulder. I was already moving, pushing through the crowd, heading back the way we’d come. Every step felt urgent now, like if I didn’t move fast enough, something would stop me.
I made it through security in reverse, my mind racing with possibilities.
I could rent a car. I could be back in Livorno in a few hours.
I could tell Leo everything. I could tell him the truth about how I felt, about how I’d been lying to protect myself, about how I couldn’t spend another second of my life without him.
The airport doors slid open, and the Italian sun hit me in the face. I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and called for a taxi, giving them the address of the nearest car rental place. As I waited, I texted my mother a simple message.
I’m sorry. I love you both so much. But I love him more.
I didn’t wait for a response. I just got in the taxi when it arrived and gave the driver directions, watching the airport disappear behind me as we headed back toward the coast, back toward Leo, back toward the only place that had ever felt like home.
The drive back to Livorno felt like it took forever and no time at all.
I sat in the back of the taxi, my leg bouncing with nervous energy as the Italian countryside blurred past the window.
Every few minutes I’d pull out my phone, checking the time, checking my messages.
My mother had responded with a single line.
We’ll talk when you get home.
Home. The word felt strange now. My apartment in New York had never felt like home. But the villa in Livorno, with its stone walls and lemon trees and the man waiting inside it... that felt like home.
The taxi driver kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror, probably wondering why I was practically vibrating out of my seat.
I tried to sit still, tried to calm my racing heart, but it was impossible.
I was about to walk back into that villa and tell Leo everything I should have said three days ago.
Everything I’d been too afraid to say in front of my parents.
I was in love with him. I was gay. And I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought anymore.
When we finally pulled up to the villa, the sun was starting to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
I threw cash at the driver without even checking the amount and practically ran to the front door.
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely get my key in the lock.
The villa was quiet when I stepped inside. Too quiet. My heart sank as I made my way through the empty rooms, calling out his name.
“Leo? Leo, are you here?”
Nothing.
“Leo?”
I walked out into the garden, hoping he’d be there. Instead I found the place completely deserted.
“Leo!”
“Hello?” a voice called back. It wasn’t Leo’s. I looked up and saw Matteo, of all people, on the roof. “Oh, hello Alex,” he said with a smile. “Leo said you went home.”
My stomach twisted in an instant. “What are you doing here?” I said before I could stop myself.
“Checking the roof,” he smiled, clearly unperturbed by my jealousy as usual. “It needed one last seal to make sure it wouldn’t leak again. There’s another storm coming.”
“O-Oh,” I stammered, feeling like an idiot. But that feeling could wait. Right now there was only one thing on my mind. “Do you know where Leo is?”
“He went into town,” Matteo nodded, pointing off toward Livorno. “Down by the sea.”
“Do you know where exactly?”
Matteo shrugged, climbing down from the roof with practiced ease. “He didn’t say. Just said he needed to think. He looked upset.”
I didn’t waste time with further questions.
I thanked Matteo and grabbed my phone, pulling up my maps to search for beaches or scenic overlooks near the water.
The sun was already painting the sky in deeper shades of orange, and I knew I didn’t have much time before dark fell completely.
If Leo was down there somewhere, I needed to find him before nightfall made it impossible.
I couldn’t stand to wait at the villa until he came back.
I needed to tell him how I felt right now.
The walk into town felt like it took hours even though it was probably only fifteen minutes.
My legs were still shaky from the adrenaline of turning around at the airport, from the taxi ride back, from the sheer magnitude of what I was about to do.
I kept rehearsing what I’d say to him, but every version felt inadequate.
How do you apologize for breaking someone’s heart?
How do you explain that you were a coward?
The streets of Livorno were quieter than usual, most of the tourists already settled into their hotels or restaurants for the evening.
I made my way toward the waterfront, my eyes scanning the shoreline, looking for any sign of him.
The sea was restless today, the waves churning with the promise of the storm Matteo had mentioned.
And then, down by the marina, I finally saw him.
He was sitting on a low stone wall that overlooked the water, his legs dangling slightly above the rocks below.
He was wearing the same pale linen shirt he’d had on this morning at the villa, and his dark hair was being whipped around by the salt-tinged wind.
He looked smaller somehow, more fragile, like he was being slowly worn away by grief.
My heart clenched painfully in my chest.
“Leo,” I called out, my voice barely audible over the sound of the waves and the wind.
He turned slowly, and I watched as confusion flickered across his face. For a moment, he just stared at me like he wasn’t quite sure I was real. Then his expression shifted to something that looked almost like anger.