looking for me. By the time I got home, the Polizia were already here.”
“Fuck,” I say. The word slips out, while imaging Amalea running in the front door after her tryst with another man to find the cops in her home. “ Mi scusi .” I apologize.
Amalea nods. “Enzo was hit by a car and passed on.”
“So, you broke it off with Davide…because of what happened with Enzo.”
“The guilt, how could I ever look at Davide again, knowing that it was my fault?”
“But it wasn’t,” I say. “I t wasn’t either one of your faults. I mean, you didn’ t set out to hurt anyone.”
“No, but unintentional hurt doesn’t make it any less wrong.”
“So, what, you’re going to spend the rest of your life holed up in here, eating all of this food and working at your little store…actually that doesn’t sound half bad.” I laugh and it makes Amalea laugh and it almost disguises the tiny tears in the corners of her eyes.
She reaches over and covers my hand with hers. “You’re a good girl, Quinn. I’m glad you came.”
“I am, too.” She may be the first person to ever tell me that. “When was the last time you saw Davide?”
Amalea looks up at the ceiling, like she’s calculating. “I’ve seen him around town, at the market, the train station…but I haven’t seen him this close in…five years.”
“Five years?” I think about how I’m missing Ben and I’ve only been away from him for a few weeks. I can’t imagine how my heart would ache being away from him for years. Or worse, as close as Amalea and Davide are, but not being able to communicate. “Amalea, you need to fix this! Five years?”
“There’s nothing left to fix. What was between Davide and I is broken. Gone.”
“It’s not. Trust me. I’ve been there—”
“Quinn, you’re lovely, but you’re just a girl, this is beyond your ability to relate.”
“I don’t think so.” And so I tell her. I tell her how I met Ben that summer, how I fell so insanely, ridiculously hard for him, but it scared the shit out of me. I tell her all the ways I tried to push him away because the words I love you scared me more than any monster ever could. I avoided looking her in the eye when I told her I got angry with Ben for not sticking up to his parents when they invited Caroline to stay with them while she looked at colleges. And how I took that anger, and went over to Mark’s house and let him strip me down and slept with him on his sofa, intent on getting back at Ben—or just feeling anything other than the searing hurt.
And I told her how Ben tried so hard to forgive me, but I wouldn’t let him. Because hanging on to my guilt was the punishment I’d given myself. And back then, I would have rather be miserable than happy. But Ben eventually proved to me that love could withstand the fuck-ups, if you tried hard enough.
“I know it’s not the same situation, but trust me, nothing is ever too broken if you love him. And by the way he looked at you, I’m positive he still has those feelings for you, Amalea.”
She pulls me in tightly, smothering me with her own sobs and tears and for once, I’m the one comforting someone else, rather than the one needing to be consoled.
Eleven
BEN
It feels strange to be back in Atlanta,
“Fuck,” I say. The word slips out, while imaging Amalea running in the front door after her tryst with another man to find the cops in her home. “ Mi scusi .” I apologize.
Amalea nods. “Enzo was hit by a car and passed on.”
“So, you broke it off with Davide…because of what happened with Enzo.”
“The guilt, how could I ever look at Davide again, knowing that it was my fault?”
“But it wasn’t,” I say. “I t wasn’t either one of your faults. I mean, you didn’ t set out to hurt anyone.”
“No, but unintentional hurt doesn’t make it any less wrong.”
“So, what, you’re going to spend the rest of your life holed up in here, eating all of this food and working at your little store…actually that doesn’t sound half bad.” I laugh and it makes Amalea laugh and it almost disguises the tiny tears in the corners of her eyes.
She reaches over and covers my hand with hers. “You’re a good girl, Quinn. I’m glad you came.”
“I am, too.” She may be the first person to ever tell me that. “When was the last time you saw Davide?”
Amalea looks up at the ceiling, like she’s calculating. “I’ve seen him around town, at the market, the train station…but I haven’t seen him this close in…five years.”
“Five years?” I think about how I’m missing Ben and I’ve only been away from him for a few weeks. I can’t imagine how my heart would ache being away from him for years. Or worse, as close as Amalea and Davide are, but not being able to communicate. “Amalea, you need to fix this! Five years?”
“There’s nothing left to fix. What was between Davide and I is broken. Gone.”
“It’s not. Trust me. I’ve been there—”
“Quinn, you’re lovely, but you’re just a girl, this is beyond your ability to relate.”
“I don’t think so.” And so I tell her. I tell her how I met Ben that summer, how I fell so insanely, ridiculously hard for him, but it scared the shit out of me. I tell her all the ways I tried to push him away because the words I love you scared me more than any monster ever could. I avoided looking her in the eye when I told her I got angry with Ben for not sticking up to his parents when they invited Caroline to stay with them while she looked at colleges. And how I took that anger, and went over to Mark’s house and let him strip me down and slept with him on his sofa, intent on getting back at Ben—or just feeling anything other than the searing hurt.
And I told her how Ben tried so hard to forgive me, but I wouldn’t let him. Because hanging on to my guilt was the punishment I’d given myself. And back then, I would have rather be miserable than happy. But Ben eventually proved to me that love could withstand the fuck-ups, if you tried hard enough.
“I know it’s not the same situation, but trust me, nothing is ever too broken if you love him. And by the way he looked at you, I’m positive he still has those feelings for you, Amalea.”
She pulls me in tightly, smothering me with her own sobs and tears and for once, I’m the one comforting someone else, rather than the one needing to be consoled.
Eleven
BEN
It feels strange to be back in Atlanta,
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