by A. Constanza
“Nonno told me you’re from New York—Brooklyn right? My mother is from Manhattan.”
“Really? That’s pretty close.”
“I received my bachelor’s from Manhattan School of Music.”
“That’s a tough school, but clearly you have the skills. Do you see your mother often?” I’ve always heard of Angelica being a mother figure, but he never mentioned his actual mother. I wondered if they were close now.”
“Once in a blue moon. She’s busy with her career. She’s an actress. Florence Amatore—or as the public knows her, Florence Lilianna.”
“That’s your mom?” I gasped.
Ignacio hummed and then moved his attention to the stars on the ceiling. He clearly wasn’t comfortable talking about her. “You can’t really see stars like this in the city.”
“No, not really.”
“You must love the night sky here then.”
I tilted my head and tried to think of a time where I stood in place and appreciated the night sky. I couldn’t think of any.
“I don’t think I’ve ever soaked it in,” I admitted.
“Let’s do that right now, then. Your second surprise is in the car,” he said, smirking.
We walked out of the cottage and near the edge of the water, opening our field of vision to something unimaginable. We had the perfect view of the night sky; it was dark, the moon was full, and the stars twinkled. Ignacio’s fingers danced down my arm until they intertwined with mine.
“How did I not do this any sooner?” I asked.
“It’s hard to see what’s really around us when we are preoccupied with our own lives.”
“Yeah.” I sighed.
“Surprise?” he asked, leading me to his car.
Ignacio told me to close my eyes, and I covered them with my hands as I heard him fumble around with something in his truck.
“Open.”
I opened my eyes and gasped at the sight of a brand-new keyboard set, a Yamaha one, to be exact, with the stand, headphones, and bar stool. It was all displayed on the box.
“No way, Ignacio,” I said, excited and reading all the features labeled on the box.
“You have talent; I want you to practice.” There was a genuine delight in his eyes. It was clearly important to him that I kept practicing. Our history made the piano an important staple of our lives—our connection.
“Thank you so much,” I whispered.
“Let’s eat, set it up, play a little, and go from there?”
“I would love that,” I said, making a poor attempt at containing my excitement. I could feel my fear of falling for someone subside. The trust and closeness slowly built up over the fear.
Maybe there really was a second chance for us.
NINETEEN
Ignacio
The sound of a door closing had woken me from my slumber. I immediately laid eyes on a sleeping Estella with all her guards down, and she looked truly at peace.
I caressed her cheek and admired the sight of her. I vaguely remember doing the same thing before we had fallen asleep. She was telling me stories about her sister and parents, and I listened to her as I stroked her cheek. She loved Italy but missed her family.
I heard a loud groan come from the kitchen, and I decided to step out of the bedroom to check on Salem.
Salem’s annoyed eyes flickered toward me. “I’m guessing you’re sleeping over?”
“I wasn’t sure, but if you’d rather I leave, I will.”
“No, it’s okay,” she huffed.
“Bad date?”
Salem opened the refrigerator door and scanned the inside. “It fucking sucked.”
I looked at my watch and furrowed my eyebrows. “It’s 1 a.m. You’ve been out for six hours. That’s a long date, if you ask me.”
“It lasted two hours because we aren’t compatible. He’s not into cooking, astrology, reality TV shows, Disney movies, or anything I’m interested in. Plus, he’s vegan. Vegan, Ignacio. After hearing that, I headed to the nearest bar and played pool with some strangers and drank.”
“Wow.” I sighed.
“It was horrible. Anyway, how was your date? Did you two fuck?” She bit down on her pickle and watched me with casual eyes.
I took a deep breath and stared at her with astonishment. She had no filter. “No, Salem. We had a great date, though. She enjoyed her surprises. Thank you for all the help.” I wanted to give Estella a memorable date, and I had to ask the only person that knew her the best. Salem was happy to help with the food and gifts ideas.
Salem soaked in the compliment and smiled with pride. “Anything for my best friend. She deserves the world, especially after her last relationship,” she mumbled. “Dickhead,” she sang.
I neared the small island and leaned against it, wondering if Salem would give me more insight into Estella’s past. “What happened?”
She pointed her half-eaten pickle in my direction and gave me a crooked smile. She was very drunk. “I know what you’re doing. I’m not going to tell you her story because it’s hers to tell, and if she isn’t ready, then you’re out of luck.”
I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my face, and Salem noted it. “I just don’t want to hurt her, Salem. She has her reservations about me, and the last thing I need is to remind her of her ex.”
“You’re doing good,” she said simply and walked away. “Trust yourself more. Night!” she called out, and then her bedroom door closed.
Trust myself more.
I breathed in her hopeful words and nodded in confirmation.
I trusted in myself and Estella.
We would have our second chance at love.
TWENTY
Estella
Waking up to my bedroom being lit by the fall sun was visually breathtaking. I pushed loose strands of hair away from my face and sat up, scanning the room. I stripped the duvet away from myself and noticed that I was wearing the same green maxi dress. My gaze traced the outline of the digital piano that pressed against one side of my bedroom wall.
“Ignacio,” I whispered.
I wasn’t sure how I had fallen asleep—talking a lot usually did it—but I had woken up to no Ignacio. This wasn’t my first time, and panic rose in me.
Things are different.
He wouldn’t abandon you again.
At least, you didn’t sleep with him this time.
I rushed out of my bed and into the main area, stopping in my tracks. My heart settled back in its place at the sight of Ignacio sleeping deeply on the couch. He had a navy-blue blanket tossed over him and a pillow covering half of his face. I guessed someone put it there—Salem. At least she cared.
It was 10 a.m., and everyone in the house was fast asleep except for me. As a child, my favorite memories were the ones where I would wake up to the smell of fresh pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a good day.
I worked quietly for the majority of the prepping, but once I started cooking, I captured Ignacio and Salem’s attention. Ignacio had been awake and staring at me for God knows long, and Salem shortly entered with her hand over her head.
“Drank a little too much?” I asked, flipping the pancakes.
“Yeah, it was a rough night.”
“Bad date, huh?”
“So bad.”
It was the same conversation with Salem, ever since college. She had the exact same routine after having a bad date. She would never come home after a failed date because she didn’t want to be embarrassed, and then she would go to a bar—legal or not—and drink a little more than average to forget about the date and also hype herself up.
“Do you want coffee?” Salem groaned to Ignacio.
Ignacio had his arms folded over the edge of the couch, and he peeked his head in my direction, his gaze glued to me. “No, thank you,” he answered.
Salem placed her freshly brewed cup of coffee to her lips, and she glanced in Ignacio’s direction and rolled her eyes.
>
I glanced over, and he still hadn’t taken his eyes off me. His stare felt even more intimate, considering he didn’t have his glasses on. It was the eyes. They were as beautiful as fire.
Our rustic, oval kitchen table had been set with three full plates of breakfast food, and I motioned for everyone to take their seats.
Ignacio leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Thank you.”
Salem doused her pancakes with syrup and stuffed a bite into her mouth. “Mmm, thanks.” She reached over to the fruit bowl and popped a grape into her mouth. “Oh, a friend of ours from NY is back in town,” Salem said. I could tell she was trying to sound upbeat but was too hung over for it.
I shrugged my shoulders, not able to name one person that we were friends with. Ever since middle school, it was always me and Salem. People came and went, but none of them came to mind.
“Bianca,” she said, offended. “My cousin…Camilla’s sister.”
“Oh yes.” Bianca was Camilla’s younger sister—by a year—and she’d occasionally hung out with me and Salem in school. Both Camilla and Bianca were popular in high school, but Camilla was the mean one who dated the quarterback whereas Bianca floated throughout groups, befriending everyone she could. “I do like her.” I nodded.
Salem glared at me. “Of course, you do, she’s my cousin.”
“Camilla is your cousin, and you don’t even like her,” I retorted.
Ignacio lifted his fork slightly. “Can I add that I’m also not a big fan of her?”
“I like you a little more now,” Salem said, giving him a nod of approval.
Ignacio smiled triumphantly and continued eating.
“Anyway, she wants to come over tonight. Girls night.”
“That sounds fun.” I smiled.
“Do you think I can steal you away for a couple hours today?” Ignacio asked me.
“Sure.” I blushed. I liked that he didn’t want to leave right away. It was nice to have him over for breakfast and integrating him into a different part of my life. We would usually see each other in the evenings, so having him around in the morning was a pleasant change.
“Shit,” Salem muttered with her mouth full of whipped cream. “I told Nonna I’d be at the café at eleven to help her with the wedding cake. I’m running late.”
Salem left the table without saying another word, and Ignacio leaned over, his sweet lips tangling with mine. He ran his fingers up to the back of my neck and entwined them within my messy hair.
“Is this okay?” he asked, softly.
“Mhm,” I hummed and closed the small gap between our lips. He molded his hands to my head and brought me into a deeper kiss. Syrup. He tasted like syrup, and I knew from now on, I would like syrup just a little bit more because of his kiss. His touch made everything better in general; I just had to remember not to go beyond kissing. Kissing was slow. Sex wasn’t slow.
I had to protect my heart at all costs.
***
Ignacio took me on a hike to see the remains of a medieval castle situated on a high cliff that used to serve as protection from outsiders. It was a beautiful walk through grassy lands, high rock walls that prevented you from falling off the cliff, and it had an outstanding view of the lake.
I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the cool, clean air of the mountainside.
“Thank you for coming with me, Estella,” Ignacio said, grazing my arm with his finger.
“No, thank you for bringing me here.”
Ignacio had his back turned to the beautiful view, and I had all of his attention.
“Ignacio.” I chuckled, covering my cheeks.
“What?” He smiled.
“You can literally see both towns, the lake, literally everything here, and you chose to look at me?” I questioned.
“I like my view more,” he said, perching himself on the wall of the castle and watching me.
He looked at me with awe. I had never had a man look at me the way he looked at me. In all honesty, I never had a man treat me as well as Ignacio had, and I had never felt strongly for a man until I had met Ignacio, but the fear still lingered.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Ignacio spoke.
“Ask away.”
“Tomorrow is Marcelo’s pre-wedding celebration.” He paused and stood still. His toned arms were crossed over his chest. He was upright, stiff, and seemed mentally preoccupied.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Ignacio pushed his wavy hair back and exhaled deeply. “Would you like to be my date to the dinner and the wedding?” he asked, his words coming out all at once. “I know you said you didn’t want to go public yet, and I respect that, but I just had to ask, Estella.”
I had seen Ignacio upset, angry, calm, happy, at ease but never nervous. It was a difficult question for him to ask, and I appreciated that he had the courage to do so. I didn’t want to complicate our relationship by telling people, and going to the dinner and wedding together would let everyone know about our relationship.
“That’s a big step, Ignacio.”
“I understand,” he said, deflated.
My heart ached for him. He looked genuinely disappointed by my answer, and I hated that I was the cause of it.
“I heard the dinner party is at your villa.”
“It is.”
“I’ve been curious about it ever since I found out you lived across from me.”
A small smile crept up. “Really?”
“Do you think you can give me a tour?”
“Of course.”
I approached Ignacio, wrapping my arms around his neck and looking up at him. I wouldn’t let his complacent smile fool me; he still wanted more from me.
“I think going public is a big step, but I’ll take it.”
“You’ll be my date?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“Yes.” I smiled.
I loved that his eyes sparkled with excitement and also loved the beautiful, tender kiss he placed on my lips as a thank you. Ignacio pressed his hand against my back and pulled me into his hard chest, holding me as if I was his most precious possession. His lips were no longer on mine but hovered over them slightly. Being close to him overwhelmed me.
“You can’t keep kissing me and holding me like this,” I whispered.
“Why?”
“I can’t think straight.”
“Maybe you’re thinking too much, Estella. Just…feel.”
We stood in place, in that exact position, for God knows how long, and it felt right. We were frozen in time yet falling deeply.
***
Bianca splayed her long legs out on the L-shaped couch and popped a cheese bite into her mouth. “Honestly, I still can’t believe she’s getting married. I’m going to meet the poor man tomorrow. Have either of you met him?”
“Yeah, he’s a hot Michelin-star chef,” Salem said. “I’m actually making their wedding cake.”
“Why?” Bianca shrieked.
“He came to me and I couldn’t say no to 10K.”
Bianca lifted her eyebrows in shock. “Wow, of course, she would bag a rich guy.”
“Are your parents coming to the dinner?” Salem asked.
“No, but they’ll be there for the wedding, obviously. Nico will be at the dinner though.” She reached over to grab a cracker from the charcuterie board.
Salem glanced in my direction, and I pulled my legs up to my chest. Niccolo, or Nico for short, was Camilla and Bianca’s older half-brother. They shared the same father, and Nico would stay with them only in the summers.
Nico was the beginning of my issues with men.
I hadn’t seen Nico since I was fourteen, but I could never forget him. He was my first kiss and first-ever real crush. He was three years older than me, and as children, we would play together in the summer, but once I turned fourteen, things between us changed. He would find opportunities to whisk me away from the crowd, and one
day, he pinned me against the wall, looked at me with his beautiful hazel eyes, and stole a kiss.
That was our thing for the summer. I would sneak away from the girls, and he would meet me in the kitchen or in the basement to kiss me for however long he could. Nothing more happened, but it meant a lot to me as a fourteen-year-old. I thought I was special for capturing the attention of a seventeen-year-old gorgeous boy.
I was far from special for him. That was the last summer I saw him. He was supposed to visit us the following summer, but at that point, he was eighteen and interested in traveling. No one really heard from him after that.
Salem was the only one who knew about my summer with Nico. She pretty much had to force it out of me because she found me balling my eyes out after Nico left.
There was a knock on the door that sliced through the silence in the room. I stood on my feet and opened the front door, greeted by a young man who held a white paper bag.
“Estella?” he asked, unsure.
“Yes?”
The young man sighed in relief. “Un regalo del signor Amatore.”
“Grazie!”
I closed the door and placed the gift on the table.
“Who is Mr. Amatore?” Bianca asked, intrigued.
“He’s a guy I’ve been dating for the past two weeks,” I said, opening the white bag and pulling out a bottle of wine, and a bottle of sparkling cider, along with a box of chocolate.
“Gaja?!” Bianca yelped. She picked up the bottle and analyzed it. “This bottle is $300!”
“Have it,” I said, lifting the sparkling cider bottle and noticing the label. It was an all-black bottle with silver stars etched on the bottle and my name written in cursive. It was beautiful, and even more so considering he knew that I wasn’t a big drinker.
“Oh my God, who is this man?” Bianca asked, hovering over me. “He’s certainly in love with you.”
“It’s a little soon for that,” I mumbled, running my fingers over my name.
“Well, he’s either in love with you or you’re really giving him the best sex of his life.” She gave me an expectant stare. I wasn’t going to tell Bianca the truth; she wasn’t that close a friend for me to tell her about the complications of the relationship.
