Page 53 of Duke for the Summer

Nate wandered out onto his balcony, phone in one hand, a dull sense of listlessness suffusing his bones. It was late afternoon, shards of sunlight glittering on the surface of the Grand Canal. The sky was a hazy fantasy of lavender and peach, a few stars beginning to come out. The air was humid and smelled of salt and algae and centuries of dampness, and Nate breathed deeply, feeling tears well in his eyes. He hadn’t picked up a paintbrush since he’d come here, almost felt like he didn’t deserve to. He didn’t know what to do. He’d probably sit out here until night fell and the mosquitoes became unbearable.

His phone started to ring, startling him. Nate looked at the screen, thumb poised to decline the call, and–

His mind bleached white for a second. Nate’s whole body started to tremble, and for a moment his sinuses filled with the smell of Jacopo’s hair, so vivid that he could almost feel its roughness against his cheek. Oh, God, he was calling. He was calling and Nate’s fingers were shaking so hard that he almosthung up on him accidentally before managing to hit the right button and hold the phone wordlessly to his ear.

“Nate?” Jacopo’s voice was tinny and far away, and relief bloomed in Nate’s chest at the sound of it; his entire soul seemed to take a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His cheeks were wet, and he tasted salt as he replied.

“Hi.”

“Nate,” Jacopo sighed.

“I’m so sorry.” He was crying openly now, the canal blurring before his eyes, and so much water was coming out of his face that he was afraid he’d drown his phone before he got out what he wanted to say. “I fucked up, Jacopo. I didn’t want you to leave. I know it’s weird that you have a daughter but–but we’ll make it work. I want to be with you–I–I think I even love you, and so if you’re willing to put up with me, then–”

“Nate.”

“–like, I know I have my shit, too, right? I have body issues and daddy issues and–and I should probably see a therapist because inheriting a castle is, like, a major life event and–”

“Nate,” Jacopo said firmly. “I love you, too.”

“Oh.” Nate stopped talking, his hand in a vice grip around the phone, and the sun shining on the water was nowhere near as incandescent as he felt at this moment, his blood full of bubbles and effervescence and his heart pounding. He felt himself stumble against the railing of the balcony. His face hurt. He was smiling, and still crying, too, and some kind of weird sob-laugh worked itself up out of his throat.

He sat down, his legs trembling too much to stand.

“I’m coming back to Carmosino,” he heard Jacopo say. “I’ll be there tomorrow morning. I couldn’t–I needed to talk to you. I couldn’t just show up.” Jacopo’s voice was thick with emotion. “Nate, I met my daughter. Her name is Noemi. She lives in Dublin, and she’s tall and smart and funny, and she loves Koreanboy bands and Oscar Wilde.”

Nate wiped his eyes, heart caught in his throat. “She sounds awesome.”

“I would love for you to meet her.”

“I would love that, too.” He swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts. “I want to see you. I’m in Venice, but I can hop on a plane. I’ll probably get there right around the same time as you.”

“You’re in Venice?” Jacopo let out a surprised little laugh.

“Yeah. I’m–I’m on a balcony in this stupidly swanky hotel, and it’s the golden hour, and the whole city is, like, glowing, and magical, and I’m crying a lot and I really wish you were here.”

“I’m in the airport in Munich,” Jacopo said. “It’s the first time I’ve been to Germany. It’s pouring down rain outside, and I’m crying a lot too, and I think the people around me are worried I’m having some kind of mental breakdown. But I’m actually very, very happy, and in love.”

“I love you,” Nate said again, because he could. “I’ll start looking for flights right now.”

“Not yet.” Jacopo’s voice was thoughtful, but certain. More certain than Nate had ever heard him. “I think–I think it’s best that you’re not there. I don’t know how any of this is going to go. I need to tell my family everything, and I think I need to do it alone. As much as I want to see you, and as much as it means to me, Nate, that you’re willing to be there.”

“You’re sure?” Nate bit his lip. “It could be a shitshow.”

Jacopo sighed. “It probably will be. But I need to do it.”

He started crying again, and there were a thousand things he wanted to say, but all he replied was, “Ok. Ok, I understand. I’ll come there after you tell them. Or, if it all goes to shit, I’ll be waiting for you in Venice. Did I mention that I have a balcony? Oh, and a king-size bed.”

Jacopo let out something between a laugh and a sniffle.“Perfect. Nate, I have to go. I have no idea where I am in this airport and I need to find my gate.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s probably important.”

“I don’t want to. I would stay on the phone with you for hours.”

“I’ll see you soon. And,” Nate heard his voice crack as he said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, babe.”

“I love you,” Jacopo said.

“I love you too. How do you say it in Italian?”

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