Love & Gelato(64)

The cabdriver was eyeing us in his rearview mirror. “Tutto bene?”

“Si,” Ren answered.

Finally the driver swerved to pull up to the train station and Ren handed him a wad of cash, then practically jumped out of the cab, me following miserably after him.

We still had to get back to Florence. A whole train ride, and then the scooter ride, and then . . . Oh, no. After that I’d be back in the cemetery. With Howard. I couldn’t let myself think ahead that far. It made me feel like I was going to hyperventilate.

Ren slowed down for a second so I could catch up. “Our train leaves in forty-five minutes.”

Forty-five minutes. Aka forever. “Do you want to sit down?”

He shook his head. “I’m going to go get something to eat.” Alone.

He didn’t say it, but I heard it.

I nodded numbly, then walked over to a nearby bank of chairs, falling down in one of the seats. What was wrong with me? For one thing, you don’t sob all over someone and then immediately try to kiss them. For another, you don’t kiss someone who has a girlfriend. A gorgeous one. Even if you thought he might be into you.

Had I completely misread him? Had he really been spending all this time with me because he was just a good friend? What about all the times he’d held my hand or told me he liked me because I was different? Didn’t that mean something?

And what about Matteo? My father was literally the worst person I’d ever met. I had no doubts my mom had kept me away from him on purpose, so why had she sent me all the clues I needed to find him?

I needed a distraction. I pulled the journal out of my purse, but when I opened it, the words wriggled across the page like bugs. There was no way I’d be able to concentrate. Not when things felt like this.

Ten excruciating minutes later Ren walked up carrying a big bottle of water and a plastic sack. He handed them both to me. “Sandwich. It’s prosciutto.”

“What’s that?”

“Thinly sliced ham. You’ll love it.” He sat down next to me and I unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. Of course I loved it. But it was nothing compared to how I felt about Ren.

And yes. I’d totally just compared the only guy I’d ever felt this way about to a ham sandwich.

Ren reclined back in his chair, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his arms over his chest. I tried to catch his eye, but he just kept staring at his feet.

Finally I exhaled. “Ren, I don’t know what to say. I’m really sorry I put you in that situation. It wasn’t fair.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I mean, I know you have a girlfriend and—”

“Lina, really. Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

But it definitely didn’t feel okay, and there was maybe a cyclone right in the center of my chest. I leaned back in my chair too and closed my eyes, sending him telepathic messages. Sorry I dragged you to Rome. Sorry I kissed you. Sorry I messed this up.



Thirty-five minutes without talking.

No, thirty-one. Because we’d had that one horrible exchange and then I’d gone to the bathroom and stared hatefully at myself in the mirror for like two minutes. My eyes were all puffy and I looked destroyed. I was destroyed. I’d lost Ren and I was about to lose Howard, too. There was no other choice. I had to make sure Howard knew he wasn’t my father, no matter how badly I wished that he were.

“Train’s here,” Ren said, standing up. He headed for the platform and I followed after him. Ninety more minutes. I could do this, right?

The train was crowded, and it took us several minutes to find a seat. Finally we found two empty spots across from a large older woman who’d put a bunch of plastic bags in the space between us. A man took the seat next to her and Ren nodded at them, sliding into the window seat, then closing his eyes again.

I took the journal out of my bag and wiped it on my jeans, hoping to get rid of any lingering Matteo cooties. Time to dive back into the story. I had to get my mind off of Ren.



JUNE 3

Tonight Howard let me know in his gentle way that he knew about X all along. It made me feel ridiculous. Here I thought we were so sneaky, but it turns out most everyone knew. I found myself telling him everything about the relationship—even the bad parts. And there were a lot of bad parts. The problem was that when things were good with X, they were SO good that I forgot about all the rest. It was such a relief to talk about it, and afterward Howard and I went out onto the porch and talked about other things until the stars came out. I feel the most peaceful that I have in a long time.

JUNE 5

Today I am twenty-two. I woke up this morning with absolutely no expectations, but Howard was waiting for me with a gift—a thin gold ring that he bought from a secondhand shop in Florence almost a year ago. He said he didn’t know why he bought it; he just loved it.

The thing I love about it most is that it has history. The man who sold it said it belonged to an aunt of his who had fallen in love but was forced by her family to join a convent. Her lover had given her the ring and she’d worn it secretly her entire life. Howard said the shopkeeper made up a story to add some value to the piece, but it really is pretty and somehow fits perfectly. I was feeling exhausted, so instead of going out to dinner tonight like we’d planned, we stayed in and watched old movies. I barely even made it through the first one.