Chapter Three

“Jesus, Elle, you can't go around snitching on me!” Alessia muttered, gesturing wildly with her hands, even though Brielle couldn't see her. She balanced the phone between her neck and shoulder while rummaging through her bag for her keys.

“Well, someone had to, since you couldn't do it yourself,” Brielle huffed. “I was expecting a 'thank you,'” she muttered as Alessia rolled her eyes.

“What were you thinking? Noah and I can never work, and you know that. But you still went ahead and told him everything!” She kicked the door open and walked in, shutting it behind her.

“That’s just what you think, but my dear friend, Noah is the best option you have—if not the only one,” Brielle replied. Alessia felt a familiar twinge. It stung, realizing Brielle had said the same thing Noah had said earlier.

Collapsing onto the sofa, Alessia sighed. “Noah and I aren't friends. He’s hated me forever. I can’t take him to Italy.” The idea made her uneasy—so much could go wrong.

What if he ruined everything? He’d make her look like a fool in front of her family, like a complete loser.

She kicked off her sandals and curled into a ball on the couch.

As if reading her mind, Brielle asked, “What if he doesn’t blow it all up? What if he’s exactly what you need, and you’re just too blind to see it?” Alessia shook her head.

“Elle—”

“I want the best for you, Ali. And since you’ve decided to do this, I’m going to help you however I can—and that help is Noah.” Brielle cut her off, and Alessia ran her fingers through her hair.

“You know this is hard for me, right?” Alessia asked, her voice quieter now. She could practically feel Brielle nodding through the phone.

“Just give it a try, okay? Maybe he’s not who you think he is.” Alessia huffed.

“Funny,” she replied dryly, though there wasn’t anything amusing about it.

“I’ve got to go, babe. We’ll talk tomorrow,” Brielle said, and Alessia caught the faint sound of a male voice in the background.

“Alright, love you,” Alessia muttered, sitting up straighter.

“Love you too. And, Ali?” Brielle called, causing Alessia to hum in response.

“Noah doesn’t hate you,” Brielle’s voice softened, and the statement caught Alessia completely off guard.

The beep of the phone ended the call, leaving Alessia blinking in surprise. Noah didn’t hate her? She had never been wrong about him—could she be wrong now?

She stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen to start dinner. Her apartment wasn’t huge but it was comfortable enough for one.

Her thoughts drifted back to two years ago when she’d first arrived in America. She still wondered where it had all gone wrong.

The chemistry between her and Antonio had been sizzling when he proposed. It was still there when they planned the wedding. But a few days before the ceremony, she noticed he seemed distant.

She’d assumed it was just stress. She squeezed her eyes shut, recalling that day—the worst of her life. The pitying stares, the mocking whispers—it was unbearable.

A loud ring shattered the silence. It took a moment for her to realize it was her phone. Wiping her hands on a towel, she picked it up.

The name flashing on the screen made her stomach clench—Mama.

“Ciao, Mama,” she greeted, already dreading the conversation.

“Come stai, Tesoro?” her mother’s voice boomed through the speaker.

“I’m fine, Mama,” Alessia replied, stepping out of the kitchen.

“It’s late. Is something wrong?” she asked, even though she had a pretty good idea why her mother was calling.

“No, nothing’s wrong. Your papa just wanted me to ask if your boyfriend eats meat. Cannoli?” Alessia stared up at the ceiling. Really?

“Ma, why would you think he doesn’t eat meat?” she asked, dodging the question.

Her mother chuckled. “Gli americani sono imprevedibili. What do they call it?”

“Vegetarians, Ma,” Alessia muttered, hearing her mother laugh again.

“Ay, you’re right,” her mother said, before clearing her throat. Here it comes.

“What’s he like, Tesoro? Are you happy?” The innocent question felt like a blade to Alessia’s heart. Her mother only wanted the best for her, and all Alessia could do was lie.

“I’m happy, Mama,” she said softly. “More than happy,” she added, guilt gnawing at her.

“Then why didn’t you tell me about him sooner?” her mother asked, the disappointment evident. Alessia closed her eyes, the guilt now overwhelming.

“I wasn’t sure about him,” she lied, her voice steady. There was a brief silence on the other end.

“What’s he like? Is he tall? Tell me about him, darling.” Her mother’s rich Italian accent gave her a pang of nostalgia.

Alessia wanted to laugh as her eyes watered—she wanted to tell her mother the truth. That there was no man. That she couldn’t describe him because he didn’t exist. That Antonio was getting married, and every relationship since had been a failure.

“Oh, Tesoro,” her mother’s voice cracked, and Alessia realized she was crying as teardrops fell on her hand.

She opened her mouth to speak the truth but stopped. “He’s tall, 6'3, handsome, Mama,” she chuckled softly, closing her eyes as she conjured an image of the man she wished existed.

“Is he hot?” her mother asked, drawing a real laugh from Alessia. “Ay, Mama. He drives me crazy half the time.”

She could almost picture him now—the man she’d made up in her head.

Her mother laughed, lightening the tension in Alessia’s chest.

“Does he have blue eyes? You've always liked guys with blue eyes” Mama asked.

Alessia sighed. “Yes, Mama. They’re captivating.”

“Incantevole?” her mother asked, and Alessia nodded. “Enchanting, Mama.”

“I can’t wait to meet him,” her mother whispered. Alessia nodded, her throat tightening. “You’ll bring him, right?”

“Yes,” Alessia replied, her voice distant. She stared into space.

“I love you, Tesoro,” her mother said before the call ended.

Minutes after, it dawned on Alessia—the man she’d described wasn’t at all imaginary or non-existent. He was real.

The man she'd described was —Noah.