Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
First, you’re not responsible for everyone. Stop living like the town’s unpaid handyman and therapist. Some of them are taking advantage of you. Now, I was never a rat, but I don’t have a way of stirring up trouble from where I am now, so I’ll fill you in on a few secrets.
Rosa De Santis flushes her grandson’s action figures down the toilet just so you’ll come snake it out for her.
Carolina Demarco doesn’t have a leak in her pool that no one can find. She drains some of the water just so you’ll come over and take your shirt off to check it. She’s a horn-dog, that one.
Emeline Moretti sells the wine you so graciously give her every year to Carolina Demarco (who has quite the collection in her basement—her homage to you) and buys whiskey with the money.
Second, and this is the real reason I wrote this letter, for years, I’ve watched you work hard, spend time with your family, and have over the occasional woman I pretended I didn’t see but actually used binoculars from my second-floor window to check out. You’ve kept your heart safe, tucked behind those six-pack abs that I noticed when I probably shouldn’t have. Hell, I was old, not blind. But here’s the thing about keeping your heart safe—it also keeps it lonely.
Go after the girl, Matteo.
Knock on her door if she shuts it the first time, kick it down if you have to, but don’t be afraid to give away your heart anymore. I’ve lived more than eighty-five years at this writing, and looking back, the only risks I regret are the ones I didn’t take. The scars from loving someone are better than the emptiness from never having loved.
Happy birthday, Matteo.
Now, go live a little.
All my love,
Sophia
P.S. If my Allegra happens to be the girl you fall for, take a sledgehammer with you when you knock on her door. Because she’s an even bigger chicken-shit than you.
***
I was too late. Why the hell did I wait until the next morning?
I stood at Sophia’s door, shoulders slumped, feeling like my heart had been ripped from my chest. Allegra’s car was gone, yet I knocked a second time, then a third. Nothing. A knot twisted in my stomach as I stepped over to the door to the antique store and shielded my eyes against the glare to peer inside. What I saw knocked the wind out of me. Empty. No furniture, no knickknacks, even the cash register was gone. All that was left was a single broom leaning against the wall that used to be packed with display cases.
I stared for a long time, trying to digest what it meant. This is the end. I’ll never see her again. A lump formed in my throat, and I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears already stinging at the corners. But then—then something shifted. My heart started to pound, my blood pumping faster. No. This wasn’t the end. Or at least I wasn’t going to let it be, not without a fight. I need to go to New York.
I turned and started walking back next door. But a few steps in, my walk turned to a jog, and by the time I crossed over to my property, I was in a full-on sprint.
At home, I burst through the door and started yanking open drawers, then pulling clothes from hangers and tossing them into a suitcase with no thought for order. I grabbed my charger from the bedside, passport from the nightstand, and somehow had the sense to grab my toothbrush from the bathroom cabinet. Shoving it all into the suitcase, I barely managed to get it zipped before I was running for the front door again. I’d buy a ticket at the airport. Rome was a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Montepulciano, so I needed to get on the road and call my sister on the way to ask her to take care of Lupo.
Outside, I opened the passenger side of the truck cab and tossed the suitcase on the seat before sliding into the driver’s side. Hitting the gas, I pulled out of the driveway like a bat out of hell.
And I slammed on the brakes when I got to the bottom.
Because Allegra’s car was in the driveway now.
Chapter 42
Allegra
WHAT THE HELL is he smiling about?
Matteo pulled into my driveway with his teeth on full display. His happiness pissed me off.
I folded my arms across my chest as he got out of the truck. “What are you so happy about?” Before he could respond, my gaze locked on the suitcase in his front seat. “Where are you heading?”
“To New York.”
My nose wrinkled. “Why?”
“After you.”
I was even more confused. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought you left,” he said, taking steps toward me.
“Why would you think that?”