Love & Gelato (24 page)

I can't remember.
His face was as smooth as a fresh jar of Nutella. He definitely wasn't lying, but was it really possible that he'd forgotten? Had he suffered some kind of head trauma or have a mental block that kept him from remembering details about his relationship with my mom?

Suddenly a new thought tiptoed out of the corner of my mind. What if he
wasn't
forgetting? Or denying? What if . . . ? I sprang to my feet, crumbling the muffin in my hand. “I need to go upstairs.”

I ran out of the room before he could ask why.

My mother's words spun through my mind as I climbed the stairs:
Yes, X. I seriously don't think anyone would read my journal, but I'm giving him a new name, just in case.

As soon as I was in my room I locked the door behind me and fumbled for the journal. I switched on my lamp and started flipping through it.

Howard:
The perfect Southern gentleman (Southern
giant
, Francesca calls him), handsome, kind, and the kind of guy who will go marching into battle for you.

I
love
being in love in Italy. But truth be told, I would fall for X anywhere.

Howard offered to walk me home, and I found myself telling him about Adrienne and the psychic.

“No way,” I breathed.

There was a reason Howard didn't know about the secret bakery or the significance of Giambologna's statue, and why my mom had slipped up and called him by his real name.

He wasn't X.

“Addie, pick up, pick up!” I whispered.

“Hey, this is Addie! Leave a message and I'll—”

“Argh!” I tossed the phone on my bed and started pacing around. Where
was
she? I went and stood at the window. My mom had been in love with someone who wasn't Howard. She'd had this take-over-everything passionate love affair and then she'd ended up pregnant with
someone else's baby.
Howard's. Was
that
her wrong choice? That she'd gotten pregnant with Howard when really she'd been in love with someone else? Was that what had made her flee Italy?

I fell heavily into my chair, then popped back up. Ren would answer! I dove onto my bed, fishing my phone out of the covers and dialing his number.

He answered on the second ring. “Lina?”

“Hey. Listen, I did what you suggested. I asked him about the statue.”

“What did he say?”

“He knew all about it, the history and everything. But then I asked him if he'd ever seen it with my mom and he couldn't remember.”

“What is his deal? Either he has the worst memory in the world or—”

“Or he was never there,” I interrupted impatiently.

“What?”

“Ren, think about it. Maybe he doesn't know about the secret bakery or the confession of love at the Sabine statue because
he isn't X
.”

“Oh.”

“Right?”

“Ohhh. Well . . .
yeah
. Okay, walk me through it.”

“I'm thinking it went something like this: My mom moves to Italy and makes a bunch of friends, Howard included. Then a few months in she falls for this guy X. Something happens, maybe they fight too much, or there's too much pressure because the school has some kind of weird rule about dating, and they break up. Then my mom rebounds with this nice Southern gentleman who probably had a thing for her all along. She gives it a try, but she can't get X off her mind. Then one day she finds out she's pregnant and panics, because she's having a baby with someone she isn't in love with.”

“That totally makes sense!”

“I know. And that would explain why we stayed away from him all these years. I mean, he is a nice guy, and from all the stories she told, he was definitely a good friend to her, but you can't just
pretend
to be in love with someone. It would hurt them too badly.”

“Poor, scary Howard,” Ren breathed.

“And that's why she wrote ‘I made the wrong choice.' Maybe that was her big regret. She had a baby with someone she wasn't in love with.”

“Except you're that baby. So do you really think she'd have written that in the front of her journal?”

“Oh. Probably not.” I sat down. “But, Ren, it's so sad! I mean, the way Howard talks about her, you can tell he really loved her. And she told me all these stories about how much fun they used to have together. But it just wasn't enough—she loved someone else!”

“It's like that old song ‘Love Stinks.' ”

“Never heard of it.”

“You haven't? It's in a bunch of movies. It's about how whenever you fall in love with someone it turns out they're in love with someone else. And it's this big messed-up cycle where no one ends up with the person they want.”

“Ugh. That is so depressing.”

“Tell me about it.” He paused. “Are you going to tell Howard that you know? About X?”

“No. I mean, I'm sure we'll talk about it eventually. But not until I finish the journal. I have to make sure my theory is right.”

APRIL 5

Another night of drama. Simone got tickets to a new club near Piazza Santa Maria Novella and our group plus a few other students met up around eleven. I'd been working late at the studio, so I showed up on my own and when I got there the first two people I saw were Adrienne and Howard. They were to the side of the building, and Adrienne was standing with her back to the wall and Howard was leaning in to her, saying something in a low voice. The scene was so intimate that for a moment I didn't understand what I was seeing. I've never seen the two of them even talk one-on-one. What
was
this?

I went into the club without them noticing and found the rest of the group, and then the two of them came in separately, acting like nothing had happened. Then things really got weird. Partway through the night Adrienne called Alessio a liar—something about him breaking his promise to go with her to an art exhibit—and for some reason that really set Howard off. He told her that she was the last person on earth who should call someone a liar, and that if she had any shred of dignity she'd come out with the truth. Adrienne hissed back that it was none of his business. Then Simone stepped in and told them to both calm down.

Guess I'm not the only one with secrets.

APRIL 19

X has been out of town for a full week, but he gets home tomorrow. TOMORROW. I haven't been able to think about anything else. After class I told Francesca that I needed to find
The Dress
. You know, the once-in-a-lifetime dress guaranteed to make anyone fall in love with you. (Or in my case, make me look amazing when I tell him my big news.)

Francesca was the perfect person to ask, because when it comes to shopping she has the patience of a saint. It took us five hours, but we finally found it. It's an off-white sundress, very feminine, with a sweetheart neckline and a skirt that falls just above the knee. Francesca even talked me into getting a haircut. Who knew cutting off a few inches of useless hair could give you cheekbones?

And what's my big news, you ask? Earlier this week Petrucione asked me if I'd be interested in staying on through August to assist with the upcoming semester. I'll be paid and get an extension on my student visa, which means I will be here until the end of the summer!!

APRIL 20

Woke up early this morning ecstatic to see X and there was a message on my phone. He decided to extend his time at the conference he's attending and won't make it until Monday. That's when I had a brilliant idea—I'll surprise him in Rome! Even if he's attending seminars all day, at least we'll be in the same city. I can spend my days touring. Express trains take only ninety minutes, so if I catch the four p.m. train this afternoon, I'll be waiting for him at his hotel when he's done for the day. I can't wait to see the look on his face!

APRIL 21

This is my third attempt to sit down and write about what happened in Rome. I can't believe I'm writing this, but it's OVER.

I was never able to find X's conference online, so when I arrived I called his cell phone and told him I was at the train station with some great news. Right then an announcement started on the station's overhead speakers, and when things finally quieted down, I realized that something was wrong. He told me to wait right where I was.

A half hour later he came charging into the train station, and something was definitely wrong. I asked him if he wanted to sit in one of the station's cafés, and for the next twenty minutes I just listened to him talk. Bottom line: He feels like his work has gotten stagnant, he needs some new creative space, and he's decided to leave the school and pursue another job in Rome. Oh, and we're over.

Over.

I just sat there, his words swirling around me. It was like my mind couldn't process it. And then it all hit me. This was the end. He was breaking up with me.

Suddenly I couldn't hear his excuses anymore, only the hard truths. I'd spent nine months lying to my friends. I'd strained ties with my family. I'd completely changed my life to be closer to him, and our relationship had never been to him what it was to me. I had the fleeting thought that I could talk him out of it—tell him that I'd figured out a way to stay in Florence even longer—but even in that brief moment of denial I knew it was useless. When someone walks out of a relationship, there's nothing you can do to keep them there.

X was still talking when I stood. I said good-bye to him in a normal voice, like I hadn't just been shattered into a million pieces, then went to the counter and bought a return ticket on the very next train. I hadn't even been in Rome for an hour. I never even got to wear my dress.

APRIL 22

Woke up this morning thinking I'd had some kind of nightmare, but just like the last few days, reality was waiting for me to get my bearings so it could knock me down again. My eyes were so swollen from crying myself to sleep that I had to sit with a cold washcloth over them before I looked acceptable enough to go to class. The whole weekend I'd been holding on to a tiny shred of hope that X would be in class this morning, but of course he wasn't. Can it really just be over? Nothing has ever hurt this badly. Nothing.

APRIL 25

It turns out that Francesca knew all along. Last night after dinner she put her arm around me and told me that X wasn't worth it, and he never had been. I was so surprised. Did everyone know?

MAY 2

This morning Petrucione announced that X has resigned from his position. I felt a huge relief—not because he's officially gone, but because someone said his name. I didn't let people in on the relationship, and so now I can't let them in on my heartache. I feel so alone. Talking to Francesca doesn't help. If I bring him up, she says bad things about him, and I end up feeling worse. Florence is the perfect place to fall in love, which means it's also the worst place to be heartbroken. Some days I just want to go home. Should I even stay through summer?