Six Days in Rome by Francesca Giacco

Author:Francesca Giacco
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: None
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2022-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

“So, if you hadn’t swallowed your pride and asked me where this bar was,” John asks, “what would you be doing right now? Crying into a plate of pasta somewhere?”

“I’d be eating pasta, I’m sure, but not crying into it. Don’t flatter yourself.” I give him a sly smile to soften any edge off what I’ve said. “But yes, I would be feeling pretty foolish.”

“I’m just glad you decided to actually ask for directions.”

“I prefer being self-reliant. What can I say?”

“You like knowing things. Being an authority. That much is clear.”

I narrow my eyes, pretend to be incredulous.

“You don’t like feeling out of control, at the mercy of someone else,” he continues. “You want to lead, not be led.”

“Says the man who’s known me for a grand total of three hours.”

“Oh, I think it’s at least four by now.”

“And that’s enough to have me figured out?”

“Definitely.”

So he thinks.

I give him silence and he fills it: “At least it’s not passivity. That, I can’t stand.”

I lean back a bit and consider him: his calm and familiarity and embrace of everything around him. How seamlessly he’s given up his former life for a new one here. And what did he leave behind? Beyond the usual: family, career, a relationship, friends, routine. Was there anything worth staying for, that he still thinks about? Or was it easy for him? And how is him being here, adopting this existence so easily, not an exercise in passivity?

But I keep that to myself, deciding to focus on how refreshing it is to find holes or flaws in a man’s story without my interest dwindling. I think about it for a moment, formulating some version of what he might want to hear. “I think it’s better to say yes or no, maybe even regret saying it, than to have no opinion at all.”

“What if it’s a no you can’t take back?”

“Or a yes.”

Whatever is between us has been pulled taut. Thankfully, the woman with the tattoo is back, asking John what beer he’s drinking because her boyfriend doesn’t like what he’s chosen, is looking for a recommendation. She ignores me completely. Watching them talk doesn’t make me feel weak the way a man’s charisma usually does, a surefire sign I could lose him. Now, seeing his charm on display, I feel the swell that always comes with my instinct being right, followed by a familiar shiver of pride.

But I don’t have any claim to John anyway, so what does it matter? All of this, the whole day and night, is extra, a gift I never sought out. Something I didn’t earn, so don’t have to pay for.

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