Page 29 of Marry Me in Rome

“It means he can get hurt,” I whispered.

She didn’t have to explain, but she went on anyway. “He was shattered. I’ve never seen him so obliterated, not even when our dad died. He gave up everything for her—the partnership, the estate, his inheritance—and she threw it all away. It’s like she took his soul with him. Last night was the first time I’ve seen him smile in years, and it was because he spoke of you.”

I lifted my chin against the twinge of pain in my chest. I’d never experienced a broken heart simply because I always did the breaking. Dating was like exploring a new building. You admired the architecture and nicely designed rooms, but if you were smart, you also memorized where the exits were. Inevitably, the rooms would begin to feel stifling and you’d have to use one. Sometimes quickly.

We reached the wall and looked over the water, which crashed against the wall more violently than I would have expected even for an island somewhere in the Mediterranean.

Vivi watched me expectantly, and I realized she wanted an answer.

“I’m not here to hurt your brother,” I told her. “I’m not even here to date him, really. We just kinda . . . accidentally became friends. I’m still not sure how it all happened, to be honest.”

“And after your trip is over?”

“I’m going back to the States.”

She nodded, seeming satisfied. “So you don’t have any romantic interest in Matteo?”

That little tug at my heart grew stronger. I mustered the courage to shove it back, reminding myself that I’d be telling him goodbye tonight. Probably forever. Vivi was right. This was best for both of us. I’d come planning to set rules myself, after all.

Yet I couldn’t quite say I didn’t care for him because it felt like a lie.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine,” I told her.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Anything.”

“What was his ex like? Tell me about her.”

Vivi sighed and leaned over the rail, glaring at the water. “Had a flat American accent like yours, obviously. Long blonde hair—extensions, dye, the whole bit. Heels everywhere she went, even at the pool. Too tan to be natural, expensive clothes, talked about modeling every chance she got. I never saw her eat anything, ever. Not even at family meals. The moment I saw her, I knew she was fishing.”

“Fishing?”

“Trying to catch a man. Not for keeps, but for the sport of it, you know?”

I did know. I might haveaccidentallyacted like that a couple of times. But in my defense, it wasn’t intentional. It was simply fun. Until it got too serious, and then I felt trapped and began to squirm.

Hoping she didn’t see the guilt on my face, I lifted my hand to shade the sun from my eyes. “He must have seen something else in her, if he fell so hard.” Matteo didn’t seem like the shallow type.

Shallow like me,I realized. Yesterday, I never would have made that comparison.

Vivi’s answer was strained, reluctant. “She had a way of bringing him out of the shadows and into the sunlight. She wouldn’t let him hide away in the office all day after our father died, and I do respect that. It’s something neither Nonni nor I were able to accomplish. She brought him to all her photo shoots. Even got him hired to shoot a couple of gigs, which fueled his passion for photography even more. He decided to start his studio around that time.”

A photographer. Of course. He’d recognized my camera and known exactly what to replace it with. He’d even given me photography advice. Why hadn’t that occurred to me before?

Because most of his advice involved putting the camera down or leaving it behind. Terrible advice for a photographer.

“But whenever he mentioned the possibility of coming to visit her in America,” Vivi went on, “Clara changed the subject. She only ever wanted to see him here, on her terms. It wasn’t until he went to visit her that we found out why. You’ll have to ask Matteo about the rest. I have a suspicion about what happened, although I don’t know for sure because he refuses to talk about it.”

My heart ached at the possibilities. If Matteo treated Clara half as well as he’d treated me yesterday after the river, he didn’t deserve whatever Clara did. Period. Yet I didn’t deserve this interrogation, either. Vivi had nothing to worry about.

“He’s lucky to have a sister like you,” I finally said.

“But?” she prodded when I didn’t continue.

I caught a glimpse of the pool on the upper level, one entire side encased in glass, glistening in the sunlight. “I’m going swimming now.” I strode away.

“That isn’t what I asked,” she called after me.

It was a jerk move, and we both knew it. But I couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear.

---