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Did he not notice my hand? Was he dodging me? He’s never pulled away from me before. Not once.

And then it happens. Insecurity hits me like a slap in the face—and it consumes me.

My smile slowly fades as I watch an unsmiling Slade stare down at his plate. His eyes won’t even meet mine.

What is he thinking? His father was talking about marriage and grandchildren. And this is his response? I don’t understand. Especially on the heels of feeling happy about his open emotions. Besides, last night he alluded to our honeymoon. His thoughts are on that wavelength. I know they are.

“Slade?”

“Hmm?” He glances my way, looking right through me, a strange expression covering his face, one I’ve never seen before.

Why can’t I read him right now? Is he having second thoughts? Is he realizing just how far we’re jumping ahead after knowing each other for such a short period of time?

Of course he is. We’ve jumped into our relationship much too quickly.

Slade stands abruptly. “Excuse me.” He wanders off in the direction of the restrooms.

Feeling rebuffed, my head lowers. Uncertainty grips me with a tenacious hold. The calm, peaceful feeling I’ve had since I met him slips away. I feel lost, as though I’m in a foreign country with complete strangers. Panic grips me. What am I doing here? I’m going to get hurt again. Anxiety I can’t control invades my body, an unwelcome enemy.

Just once, Slade doesn’t smile at me. Just once, he doesn’t hold my hand. Just once, I can’t read his expression. Just once, he walks away—probably for a perfectly normal reason.

And I lose it.

After all the reassurance he’s given me. I knew I was still tender, but I didn’t know I was standing on a precipice doing a balancing act between falling over the ledge or landing safely on the ground.

Am I really so unsteady? Slade must see it. He must know we’re standing on thin ice. I’m the one who decided to pretend nothing about Blu mattered to me anymore. I’m the one who decided I was done mourning his loss from my life.

When Slade returns, Matteo says, “We go back to Venice proper now. Family want to see you before you go. Nonna prepares beautiful dinner special for you. Sound nice, yes? But first, gelato.” Matteo’s happiness is like a bright, shining light.

No one notices I just lost my soul.

chapter twenty-eight

MATTEO TAKES USto a shop where we each order gelato. I order mine in a small cup. Matteo and Slade order cones. It’s delicious, the texture reminding me of soft-serve ice cream. We sit at another table overlooking a canal, one of the most amazing sights I’ve ever seen. Yet my heart hurts. I mean, it physically aches in my chest. My lemon gelato melts in my mouth. This should be a memorable moment. Instead, I’m dying on the inside.

On the boat ride back to Venice proper, Slade sits next to his father. They’re deep in conversation. That’s the whole reason we’re in Venice, so they can build their relationship. Why am I suddenly feeling alone? I hate my insecurity. Where’s all this self-doubt coming from? I’ve never felt this way before. I was always sure of Blu. I’ve always been sure of myself.

Until I wasn’t.

We take our time walking to Matteo’s home. I’m walking with my arms tucked into their arms, but it feels different now. Like they’re just being gentlemen to a lost young lady. Matteo explains a bit of Venice’s history as we pass a few landmarks. I hardly hear a word.

When we arrive at the house—Slade’s family home—both of us are warmly welcomed by everyone. I try to smile and be friendly. I think I’m the only one who notices it’s fake.

Platters of food begin to appear on the table. Matteo explains what each one is. “Baccalà mantecato. Is mostly first course.” He throws up his hands. “Ah, we’re not so formal. Is cod. Mix with polenta.” Matteo performs the traditional Italian gesture of bringing his thumb and forefingers together, kissing them, and then pulling them apart quickly. “Delizioso.”

We had whipped cod on the first day of our trip, but not served like this.

Matteo points to another platter. “Thissarde in saor. Sardines in marinade.”

My stomach does a flip-flop, but I’m always willing to try something once. Gulp. The fish are whole. I like my food to look like food, not like the original animal.

“Not for beautiful Marin, eh?” Matteo lets out his hearty laugh. He goes on. “Risi e bisi.Rice, fresh-ah peas, and pancetta. And dessert is tiramisu. Nonna and Giana do good job, yes?Bellissmo.”

An incredible tiramisu is set on the table, practically a work of art. Wow. They must’ve worked all day on this meal.

Dinner is a loud and crazy affair with everyone visiting, laughing, and asking Slade all kinds of questions about America. Namely the twins. They ask things like, “Do you see bears?”

“Not many,” Slade tells them. He has Francesco’s and Tommaso’s undivided attention. “But when I do, I grab it by the tail and twirl it around above my head. Then I toss it far away from me. It’s too scared to come back.”

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