When in Rome...Break His Heart

by Lena Mae Hill

  “Oh,” Maggie said. “Oh. I thought you were together.”

  “Oh, no,” Rory said, another wave of color climbing her neck. “Not like that.”

  “Really?”

  “No. I mean, he’s cute and all. And since we stay with the same house mom, it’s convenient for us to hang out…”

  Maggie raised her eyebrows and gave Rory a look. “Are you saying he’s too good for you?”

  “No, it’s just…he could have any girl, you know? I don’t want to be just convenient for someone.”

  “Rory, Ned likes you. You know that, right?”

  “Well, we’re friends.”

  “I don’t think he treats you like a friend.”

  “No, he does.”

  Maggie shook her head. “You and Cynthia. Why can’t you see when someone likes you?”

  “Anyway, we’re only here three more weeks, so it doesn’t matter,” Rory said. “You know how it is. Like with you and Enzo.”

  Maggie thought about that for a while as they made their way out to hear the Pope give mass. There were so many people, he was just a speck from where they stood. Maggie didn’t understand Latin and wasn’t Catholic, but she had put it on her list of things to do, and Professor McClain had it as one of their few weekend trips as a class.

  She found her mind going back to Rory’s comparison. It wasn’t the same though. She knew Enzo liked her. She had a boyfriend. Rory and Cynthia were just being blind. Anyone could see their guys liked them the same way Enzo liked her. Not as a friend.

  And what about Weston? Did he only like her as a friend now? Had their relationship gone from passionate love to friendship without her even noticing? She definitely did not feel the same way about him that she felt about Enzo. And he didn’t feel the same way about her as Enzo did. Weston had never been unable to keep his hands off her. Maybe she was only attached to him, comfortable with him because he was safe and good and predictable.

  But maybe she wasn’t. Maybe it had taken this distance, this much time and space away from each other to realize that she had changed. Weston hadn’t gone anywhere, hadn’t changed. He was still the guy who had cancelled his biology class three times until they ended up in the same lab because he knew she couldn’t stomach the thought of dissecting something. He was the guy who had bought her a variety pack of pepper spray—one for her keychain, a pocket-sized, and a bottle big enough to drop a small army—when she started obsessing about the rape epidemic on college campuses across the country. Though of course he’d changed in the seven years they’d been together, at his core he was still the guy who she’d met in middle school.

  But maybe she wasn’t that girl anymore. Maybe she’d only thought she was because he’d somehow stunted her growth. She’d been so comfortable with him that it lulled her into a state of inertia. Maybe what she’d thought was comfort was thinly veiled boredom. He was perfect on paper, and everyone loved him, she’d convinced herself he was the guy for her to marry. If she’d been on her own, been able to grow in ways she hadn’t while trying to match Weston’s perfection, would she have been more?

  She wasn’t perfect, and she never would be. And he’d seen that. That was why he didn’t propose. Maybe he’d known it all along, or more likely, realized it sometime between high school and their second year of college, when they’d planned to get engaged. Instead of breaking up with her, though, he’d kept her in the dark about his revelation. And now, at last, she was having it for herself.

  She was the convenience. Rory had nothing to worry about. Ned had just met her, was getting to know her and want her. He hadn’t kept her around for years because she was easy. Maggie didn’t want to be anyone’s convenience relationship, either. Rory was too scared to do anything about it, but Maggie wasn’t. Without Weston, who knew what she would have been. A reckless, spontaneous girl like Kristina, who fell in love in a few weeks with a guy she met in an airport? An independent, wild girl like Cynthia, who let two strangers in a nightclub grind her at the same time and who never dated a guy more than a few months?

  Maggie had never understood what made her and Kristina stay friends, but now it made sense. Deep down, maybe she’d always been like that, but she couldn’t let anyone know because of Weston. She’d hidden it from everyone, even herself, insisting that she was the predictable, dependable, Mary Sue Maggie that Weston wanted her to be.

  But Kristina was right. Now was the time to have fun, to go wild, to fall in love with someone she just met. Now was the time to break it off with Weston, when they had a world between them and she didn’t have to see him every day. She only had three weeks left, and she didn’t want to waste them scheming and pining for a ring that would never come.

  Before she lost her nerve, she got out her phone and texted him. And then she texted Enzo. If the offer was still on the table, why not? If they went out once and he was a jerk, she’d look elsewhere. He wasn’t the only guy in Rome. But he’d already asked her out, and that’s what Kristina would have done. She would have given him a chance. The new Maggie would give people chances, too. The new Maggie would try new things. The new Maggie would be her own person, without worrying about what she had to do to get a proposal. She would do what she wanted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Maggie’s heart took off at a sprint when she saw the call flashing on her screen later. She swallowed three times before she could answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Weston said, his voice just so damn familiar, so unassuming, it broke her heart a little. “I woke up and got your text. You said to call?”

  “Yeah, um…” Maggie glanced over at Kristina, who was sitting on her bed painting her toenails. “Hold on a sec, I’m going to go outside.”

  Kristina straightened and turned to Maggie, but Maggie ducked out the door before she could ask. She hurried along the ancient hardwood hallway and down the creaking stairs before stepping out the front door. A scooter puttered by, a guy driving with a girl clinging to his back, like a scene out of a movie. Neither of them were wearing helmets, though, so instead of a happily-ever-after, they’d probably get a trip to the emergency room.

  “What’s up?” Weston asked, still without a single hint in his voice that he knew what was coming.

  “So, um, I don’t know how to say this,” Maggie said. “But do you ever feel like… maybe we hold each other back?”

  “From what?” Weston asked. “And no, I don’t.” Now his voice had that snippy edge it got whenever they argued, like he thought he was above all this and it was just sooo irritating that anyone disagreed with him about anything, ever.

  “From…I don’t know, moving on with our lives, I guess.”

  “We are moving on with our lives, Maggie. We’re graduating next year.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “So how are we not moving forward? We’re not moving backwards. That would be impossible. That’s not how time works.”

  “I know how time works.”

  He sighed. She hated when he did that. “Maggie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll fix it.”

  “I don’t need you to fix anything, Weston. Don’t you get it?”

  “No, I don’t get it. Why’d you bring it up if I can’t fix it?”

  Now she sighed in frustration. “I don’t think we are helping each other grow,” she said. “I feel like we’re still the people we were when we met, seven years ago.”

  “Because we are. You can’t change who you are.”

  “No, but who you are can change.”

  “What are you saying? You’ve suddenly changed?”

  “I guess,” she said, then shook her head. “No. That’s not what I mean. I feel like maybe I should have changed, but I didn’t, because of us.”

  “So it’s my fault?”

  “I said us, not you. Not everything is about you.”

  “It sure feels like this is.”

  “I’m not
picking a fight. I just think that maybe we want different things now.”

  His voice was more than snippy now, it was downright lethal. “Like what?”

  Like getting married, you idiot! Why couldn’t you just ask me, like you were supposed to, the night before I left? None of this would be happening.

  Maggie sighed again. “I don’t know. Like maybe I’m not who you think I am. Maybe I’m not who I thought I was. Maybe I don’t even know who I am, and I didn’t realize it until I was away from you. And I think maybe I need to figure that out.”

  “Are you breaking up with me? Right now? When you’re in Rome, and I can’t do anything about it?”

  Maggie rested her forehead against the ivy-covered wall of the house and closed her eyes. “Don’t you see what I’m saying, though? When I left, didn’t you feel a little lost, like you didn’t know what to do with yourself?”

  “Well, sure.” His voice softened a little. “I missed you. But I know who I am. I know what I want. I want you, Maggie. I’ve always wanted you. Since when is that not what you want?”

  “It is,” she said. “I want me, too. I want to be who I really am, not the person you see, the person everyone wants me to be.”

  “But you are that person,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with doing what you should.”

  Maggie turned to lean her back against the wall of the house. It opened right onto a sidewalk along a street. Nowhere to go. And she thought about Enzo, saying he didn’t care what he should do, he just wanted her, right or wrong.

  “Maybe that’s true for you,” she said. “But I think I need to figure things out. On my own. Figure out what I want, who I am without you. And maybe when I come home, if you still love the person I really am, then we can try again.”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this over the phone. You couldn’t wait to get home?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, biting her lip so hard it was a wonder it didn’t bleed. She would not cry until she hung up. “I need to be far away from…from there. From everything I’ve always known, so no one is dragging me into their expectations. It’s like everyone is always painting me the colors they think I should be, and so I want to be that color to make people happy. But what about what makes me happy? What if I want to choose my own paint for once?”

  “So I’m imposing some expectation on you? You need to get away from me?”

  “Why are you making this personal?” she said. “I just want you to understand how I feel.”

  “No. You wanted me to agree with you. But I don’t.”

  “Now you can do what you want, too,” she said. “Date someone else, see what’s out there.”

  “I thought we were doing what we wanted,” he said. “That we both wanted it. I know what’s out there, and I chose you. That’s what I want.”

  “I know,” she said, a tear spilling down her cheek. “I wanted it, too, Weston. I love you. I’ll always love you. I just need to figure this out.”

  He was quiet for a minute. Finally he said, “Is that why? You met someone?”

  “No, that’s not why,” she said, swiping away her tear. But like a grey hair, as soon as she got rid of it, a dozen more took its place.

  “But you did,” he said.

  “It’s not someone,” she said. “This isn’t about anyone else. It’s about me figuring out myself.”

  “By seeing other people.”

  “I don’t know, okay? I honestly thought we’d be married by now. It’s been seven years, Weston. And then I started thinking, maybe we’re not for a reason. Maybe we need to see the world a little more, not limit ourselves. We were practically babies when we met.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I limit you,” he said in his snippety voice.

  “Can’t you at least try to understand?” she asked, her voice breaking. She was breaking. Breaking down into a sobbing mess. At least they weren’t on Skype so he couldn’t see her displaying all that ugly emotion on the side of the street.

  “What do you want, Maggie? You want my blessing? Here it is. Go do whatever it is I’m holding you back from. I can’t stop you from making your own mistakes. I hope they’re worth it.”

  She tried to answer, but all that came out was a choking sound, and he must have mistaken it for a goodbye, because he said goodbye and hung up. She sat on the sidewalk and sobbed, right there for any passing car to see, making a big public spectacle of herself. That wasn’t like her at all. Kristina did that kind of thing. Once, she’d caused a scene in the middle of a bar when her boyfriend bought another girl a drink—snatching it out of the other girl’s hand and dumping it in his lap, screaming that she was breaking up with him, like she couldn’t see that all the people in the bar had stopped talking to watch the drama unfold.

  But this was the new Maggie. She didn’t care what anyone thought, either. If she wanted to cry on the side of the road while cars bobbed along the street, she would.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I can’t believe you broke up with Weston,” Kristina said for the hundredth time. They were on the tram, heading for the university. “We’ve got to get you out of the house before you start wallowing. The key is to stay busy at the beginning. If you let yourself stay home and cry, you’ll sink into it like quicksand.”

  “It’s been less than a day,” Maggie said. “I was with him for seven years. I think I deserve to wallow a little.”

  “Nope,” Kristina said. “You can do all the wallowing you want when we get home. Right now, we’ve got to get you out dancing, having fun, maybe have a girls’ night. And there’s always Enzo…” She wiggled her eyebrows and gave Maggie her nutty grin.

  Maggie shook her head. “Thanks, but I can’t even think about anyone else right now.”

  “Why not? Isn’t that why you broke up with Weston?”

  “No,” Maggie said, her face warming. “It’s about figuring out who I am without him, if it’s the same person. You’re the same person no matter who you’re with, and when you’re alone, too. But I don’t know if I am, because I’ve never been alone.”

  Kristina gave her a weird look. “So you think you’ve been faking it all along?”

  “No,” Maggie admitted. “But we shaped each other. And I’m not sure if we even want to be together, or if we’re just together because it’s easy.”

  “Well, it was brave of you to be the one to find out,” Kristina said. “Breaking up couldn’t have been easy.”

  Maggie swallowed the ache in her throat and shook her head no.

  “You need excitement, too,” Kristina said. “Not just what’s easy. You need the guy who makes you crazy just thinking about him. Not comfortable and familiar. That’s how you describe your period pants. Not the love of your life.”

  Maggie glanced around. “We’re on a tram,” she whispered. “You can’t just yell out period like that.”

  “Guess what?” Kristina whispered loudly enough for the whole tram to hear. “Italians have periods, too.”

  Maggie was relieved when they reached their tram stop and climbed off. “I just need a little more time to process. I’m not even sure I wanted to break up. I wanted him to stop me. To give me a reason to stay forever. A ring.”

  “And he didn’t,” Kristina said. “So what you need to do now is take your mind off it. Either he’ll realize what an idiot he is and propose, or he won’t because he was never going to.”

  “What if he was going to, but now he doesn’t?”

  “You’re wallowing,” Kristina said as they reached the university and entered the building. “You can’t change what’s already happened. If you get back together, at least you had a little taste of Italian seasoning before you go back to playing house with boring old Weston.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Don’t know what? You’ve been flirting with Enzo since you got here. And you told him you’d go out with him. I think you’ve already chosen.”

  She was right. Maggie had chosen. She hadn’t really meant to.
Now she was acting like Kristina, going over and over her problems and wallowing in indecision. She didn’t want to be like Kristina in that way. Enzo had called her twice since she’d texted him, but she hadn’t wanted to talk. She hadn’t broken up with Weston to go out with Enzo, but she had wanted to see what it would be like to go out with someone else, what she would be like. And she only had two weeks and a half left in Rome. Not enough time for a relationship, but maybe a couple fun dates, like Kristina said.

  So she texted Enzo back and told him they could do something on Wednesday. Then she sat in class taking notes with laser focus.

  “I’m so excited for you,” Kristina said, squeezing her arm as they walked out of class. “I thought you’d never throw off that wet blanket. Now that you have, it’s your time to bask in the sun.”

  “I don’t really feel like basking,” Maggie said.

  “What’s wrong?” Rory asked, joining them as they headed into Professor Cucci’s class.

  “Oh, nothing,” Maggie said. She’d never had to deal with this before. For some reason, she was ashamed to tell people that it hadn’t worked out with Weston. Would that go away? Or did everyone feel like that after a breakup? Kristina never seemed embarrassed about admitting another relationship had failed. Then again, nothing really embarrassed Kristina.

  “I’ll help you get ready for your date,” Kristina said. “Rory, are you in?”

  Rory’s eyes widened. “You’re going on a date?”

  “With Enzo,” Kristina said, settling into her usual chair. “We’ll make sure you dress up cute this time.”

  “I don’t know if I can give you advice on that,” Rory said.

  “Sure you can,” Kristina said. “Come over on Wednesday, and we’ll all get done up and have fun.” She turned to Nick, who was joining them in their little group. “You want to come put on makeup and get all girlie with us so Maggie doesn’t feel so conspicuous?”

  “You want guys there while you get dressed?” Rory asked.

  “He can give us a guy’s prospective,” Kristina said. “But it’s up to Maggie.”