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Samantha tried not to let the buzz of nerves she'd been feeling since dinner travel through her hand into Edo's. The look in his eyes when she'd asked for Tartufo... She almost blushed again just thinking about it. But if he tried to kiss her again tonight, she wasn't going to stop him.
They'd gotten their ice cream to go, and were walking by silent agreement back up to the castle. It was like that first night all over again, except this time Samantha knew what was coming, and had also cleaned her room first.
Edo let go of her hand and slid his arm around her waist instead, matching his step length to hers to keep her pressed to his side. Samantha leaned into him, wrapping her arm around him as well. The evening birds were singing their goodnight songs, and stars were peeking out in the gaps between the tree branches. It was perfect.
Until they walked through the front door and several people started shouting and clapping.
A group of people swarmed them, pulling Edo in for embraces and speaking loudly over one another. Samantha couldn't understand anything at all; it was all arms and bodies and Samantha quickly found herself separated from Edo and on the outside of the little mob.
The people all seemed to be about Edo's age, men and women, some holding hands. A couple people hung back, smiling politely but seeming like they didn't really know Edo. One of these was Giovanni.
Paola came out of the door to the kitchen then, exclaiming like all the others and rushing over to plant a kiss on Edo's cheek. She waved to all of them, and then called something while pointing at the front door, and several of them cheered. Samantha was so lost. She slid back to the wall.
Giovanni, noticing her, stepped over and spoke in English. “It's a welcome back party. These are some of Edo's classmates. We're going to take him to the bar for a few drinks and to catch up.” He hesitated, then said, “Would you... like to come?”
Samantha looked at the excited swarm of people milling around, grabbing jackets and chattering in a language she could only understand the very basics of, and only when spoken slowly. She wasn't part of this group—she didn't know them, and it would be a hassle for Edo to try to translate for her all evening.
And it felt like the second week of college, when John had taken her to a party. He’d walked in and it had seemed like everyone had known who he was, even though he was a brand-new freshman. Samantha had followed him around all evening like an awkward puppy, turning down drinks from strangers and trying to pretend she was enjoying herself and had any idea what he and the others were talking and laughing about. The next day, John had broken up with her, telling her he’d thought she might loosen up a little once she was in college and not living with her grandmother, but that apparently “boring” went right to her core.
Edo looked a little confused, but was letting the crowd pull him back out the door. He’d probably already forgotten about Samantha.
She managed a smile for Giovanni. “Thanks, but I have some ice cream,” she held up the bag, “—I mean, gelato—that I need to get into the freezer. I'm sure Edo will be excited to catch up with everyone. Just tell him I said to have a great time.” Samantha felt a warning prickle in her throat and quickly slipped out of the room before she could cry in front of all of Edo's friends.
#
EDO SHOULD'VE BEEN grateful. He should have been thrilled at the chance to reconnect with his old friends.
Why tonight?
He’d finally gotten Samantha to let down her barriers again—somehow, through the sculpting, she’d seemed to grow more willing to give him another try.
And then he had been practically kidnapped by Paola and the gang.
They were good people, and it wasn't that he hadn’t missed them... But now, sitting on the front steps of the Castello waiting for Samantha to emerge, Edo acknowledged the feeling that had been niggling at him the whole time he'd been out with his friends the night before.
He didn’t belong with them anymore.
They hadn't done anything to make him feel that way—not on purpose—but it was there in their teasing comments about the United States—which almost none of them had ever seen—and their questions about what he wanted to do now that he was back from his harebrained decision to run off for six years, which they apparently all still saw as crazy. Most of them had never even been to Rome; they didn't know what it was like to live in another country, didn’t know how it felt to not be surrounded by the community they’d grown up with.
Living overseas had changed Edo, and he might not ever fit in again.
The door behind Edo opened, and he spun quickly to find Samantha blinking at him in the bright morning light. A surge of relief washed over him—He’d worried he’d missed her. “Buongiorno.”
“Buongiorno.” She smiled, but some of her reserve was back. Edo had been afraid of that.
“Do you have plans for today?”
“I thought I'd go wander around the city again.”
“Without me?” Edo said, putting on a mock-affronted look.
“I wasn't sure if you'd feel like doing much today. I didn't know what time you might've gotten back.”
Edo wished he could just tell her he hadn't wanted to go—tell her he'd wanted to stay with her, that he wanted her to stay with him. But she was already looking wary, and that sort of thing would only scare her off. Instead, he took her hand and tugged her down the stairs and toward the bus stop. “Let me come. Today I want to teach you Italian.”
She looked surprised but pleased. Edo had remembered how snippy she'd been with him the first day when he'd translated everything for her; she'd said she wanted to learn Italian, but he'd automatically spoken to her in English in all their time spent together. Last night, when Giovanni had told him she’d said she didn’t want to go with them, he'd realized the language would be a huge barrier to her wanting to stay. He'd at least known English when he'd gone to the United States, and it had still been a difficult transition.
Edo had gone back and forth on whether he should ask this of her. But he was taking over the Castello, so he wouldn’t have the time or money to go back to the U.S. to see her, and she’d given every indication this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip for her. If they were going to make this work, he needed her to stay now—it would be cheaper to buy her a one-way flight home if she decided it wouldn’t work than to buy round-trip flights later to try to meet up again.
Hence the Italian lessons. He might only have a couple days left with her, but he’d do everything he could to make it easier for her to say yes when he asked her to stay.