My Favorite Souvenir(82)

For our last night, Matteo took me to an open mic event at a local coffee place. With its deep, worn-leather couches and gritty air, it was everything I’d ever imagined a Seattle coffeehouse to be. They also had the best, most robust espresso I’d ever tasted.

Matteo said he’d always wanted to perform here but had never had the guts in the years since Zoe’s passing. This was his third performance in the short time I’d known him, and it gave me so much pride to feel like I might have contributed to that. I was so proud of him.

The musicians were given a small area in the corner that was illuminated by white Christmas lights hung on the wall. The darkness of the rest of the room helped keep the focus on the stage.

When Matteo’s turn came, he got up and performed his own version of “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz. Of course, I clung to every word, analyzing the song choice. It may or may not have been about me, or about love, or just a testament to fate and surrendering to it. That was definitely something we were going to have to do moving forward—trust in fate.

When the song finished, the crowd went wild. I rushed up to the stage and wrapped my arms around him. Despite the loud cheers, it felt like we were the only two people on Earth. Holding Matteo under the white lights of the stage where he’d just killed it was the best way I could’ve imagined winding down this trip.

The mood, though, after we left the coffee shop, seemed to turn melancholy.

It was just after nine, and our plan was to grab a late dinner somewhere out in the city.

“Do you know what kind of food you’re in the mood for?” he asked.

For these last hours together, I’d decided I didn’t want to share him.

“I was thinking about it, and I’d really like to just hang out Chez Duncan tonight. Maybe we can grab a pizza and take it back to your place?”

“Sure.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “We can do that.”

We stopped and picked up a pie, half pepperoni and half cheese, since I preferred mine without toppings.

Back at Matteo’s place, we casually ate on the floor, the vibe still somber. Each of us had only one slice. I wasn’t that hungry, and apparently he wasn’t either.

When my phone rang, I knew right away who it was, even before I looked at it. Once I confirmed I was right, I hit ignore.

“Is that him?” Matteo asked, his tone bitter.

I answered hesitantly. “Yes.”

“Why the fuck does he keep calling you when it’s clear you don’t want to talk to him?”

Of course I had no answer.

One thing I’d noticed during this trip was Matteo’s growing lack of tolerance for Brady. Something had changed. In the beginning, he’d seemed to have had more sympathy for his friend. Now it was like the mere mention of Brady irked him. I could only assume that as Matteo’s feelings for me grew, he’d come to see Brady as more of an adversary.

I sighed. “I’m sorry, Matteo. You deserve better than to have to deal with this situation.”

He looked contemplative. “I don’t think we should communicate after you leave here.”

My heart sank. “What?”

He got up and reached into his side table drawer for a piece of paper. Then he returned to the spot next to me on the floor.

“I bought you a ticket to New Orleans for Valentine’s Day. Here’s all of the information for the reservation,” he said, handing it to me.

“What does this have to do with not communicating?”

“I think you need to take the time when you get home to figure everything out, without any interference from me. You make me feel as though you want me, that you want this—us. But Brady is clearly still in the picture. I don’t want you to make any decision you’ll regret, one way or the other. You can see from being here in Seattle that a life with me would be different than what you’re used to. I obviously can’t give you the financial stability that someone like Brady could. I don’t even know where we would live. Everything would be up in the air. But I will tell you one thing… I don’t want to be with anyone who isn’t absolutely sure she wants to be with me.”

This trip had only made my feelings for Matteo stronger. So I was confused as to why he seemed more worried.

“Have I done something to give you the impression that I’m still confused? Because every second I’ve spent with you here has made me more sure that you’re the one for me, Matteo.”

He looked like he wanted to believe my words, but something was holding him back.

He shook his head. “You say that now. You’re still with me here. But look what happened when you went back home the first time. Brady came crawling back, and you let him into your life.”

There was no disputing that. I’d definitely been confused when I got home from our road trip. At the time, Matteo—Milo—had been new and scary. And Brady was old and familiar. Even though he’d abandoned me, Brady had still seemed like the safer option. And I’d somehow felt like I’d owed him a second chance. But safe or not, my soul didn’t light up with Brady the way it did with Matteo. Over the past several weeks, I’d learned that my happiness was more important than stability.

“At this moment, there is no part of me that’s not yours,” I said. “But I know only time will show you where my heart is.”