“A week. That’s, that’s so soon.”
“Si. Yes. It is very good. You can come home early. Yes?”
“I…I don’t know. My flight is booked for early September.” My mind races to do the math. “Three weeks from now. Changing it will be —”
“No trouble. I will pay for change. I need you here, Isabelle. You are mysecondo. You must be here.”
Vito continues to rattle on, in his stilted half Italian, half English. But I’m not listening. I can’t hear anything over the roaring in my ears.
I thought I had three weeks to figure out what to do, how to handle leaving. And now I have a matter of days?
“Vito, I need to go, can we talk soon? I’ll call you and we can discuss plans. But I have to go.” I hang up the phone, for once being the one not to wait for an answer instead of him.
Walking the rest of the way to my car quickly, I convince myself not to break down and panic in public. And it works. I manage to get in the car, and safely drive to a quieter part of the city, where I find a park with an almost empty parking lot and pull in.
With trembling hands, I turn the car off and let my head fall down onto the steering wheel.
I can’t do this. I can’t leave Kai again. I love him too much. I love being here, being close to my mom, being with him, too much.
But Italy. The restaurant. My family. My future.
I want both of these lives. The life I have in Italy and the life I could have here. I worked so hard for what I have there, but how can I deny the truth any longer of how much Kai means to me?
Dragging in a slow breath, I pull out my phone and find my text messages with Kai. Maybe seeing him, talking to him, will help me feel more sure of my decision.
IZ: Are you at home?
KAI: Yep, just getting packed up for the away series, I gotta be at the stadium in 40 minutes.
IZ: I need to talk to you. Can you wait for me?
KAI: Of course. Everything okay?
IZ: I’ll tell you when I get there.
I make it to his building in just a few minutes. Somehow, in my earlier daze, the park I found to have my breakdown in was close to him. As if the universe or my soul knew I would need him.
He opens the door before I’ve had time to knock twice, and I throw my arms around his neck, pushing him inside.
“Woah, Iz, what’s going on, baby?” He holds me tightly with one arm, managing to close the door with the other. “Talk to me.”
I pull back slightly, and his thumb lifts to swipe away tears I didn’t realize had fallen.
“You’re scaring me.”
“The restaurant in Italy is done early. The renovations. My boss wants me back there in a week.”
His thumb freezes on my cheek, and a mask covers his face. I hate that mask. It’s hiding his true feelings, and right now, I need to see them.
“Oh. Well, you have to go, then.” His voice is wooden, and when he steps away, I have to bite my tongue to hold back a sob. “It sucks we won’t have more time together. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.” He pulls his hat off his head and runs his thumb and forefinger along the brim where my initials are.
Oh God.I don’t know what to say right now. I thought I would figure it out once I saw him, but instead, I’m even more lost. Because it feels like he’s closing the door on us.
But before I can get a single word out, he locks his gaze on me, and I see that damn mask fall away. And the raw emotion etched across his face makes my breath catch in my throat. Raw emotion and sharp determination.
With two steps, he closes the distance he’d put between us, and I’m back in his arms. Crushed against his chest.
“Isabelle, I have to tell you something. My biggest regret in life is that eight years ago, I let you leave without asking you to stay. Without begging you to come home and give us a chance. Givemea chance. I would’ve made it work, somehow.”