“What are you two doing here?” I murmur, blinking back tears.
“I interpreted your ‘Dante kicked me out but I’ll be fine’ text as a veiled cry for help,” Charlie says wryly. “So here we are.”
She’s got a six-pack of fancy-looking craft beer under the other arm, yet still manages to hug me back while walking us backwards into the living room. Livvie lifts up two pizza boxes as she follows.
“Garlic knots and cosmic caramel brownies, too!” she announces.
I nearly break into tears, but I’m too wrung out at this point to expend the energy. Livvie quickly arranges the feast on the coffee table, and we all gather around it, after I run to the kitchen first to get plates and a sparkling water for Liv.
As we sit together in the (admittedly very comfortable) living room and dive into the food, Charlie cuts right to the chase.
“You know I love you,” she says, “but what the fuck, Frankie? What is Rico doing here? I’m on your side, but I can’t really blame Dante for throwing a shit fit. What’s going on?”
With a sigh, I let my head fall back against the couch cushion. “I honestly don’t know. I had no idea Rico was coming. It’s such a mess.”
Livvie looks between us while taking a huge bite of pepperoni pizza. Charlie hands me a beer, which I immediately twist the top off of. I take a long swig, savoring the citrus and hops. There’s a beat of silence, and apparently, I don’t speak fast enough for my sister’s liking.
“Well?” Charlie prods. “So? Tell me everything.”
I sigh. “Where do you want me to start?”
My older sister’s face scrunches and I can see she’s annoyed. “Your shitty Italian ex who I only know from your Instagram feed shows up in Napa out of nowhere last night, butts in between you and your husband, and apparently causes such a stink that you end up getting banished to the guesthouse until further notice. I saw the ring on Rico’s finger, Frankie, and the whole situation seems really…well, fucked. Are you seriously asking me where you should start, or should I just assume the worst?”
“Can I have a beer?” Livvie asks innocently.
Charlie waves noncommittally at her. I don’t know if that means yes or no, but Livvie takes it as a yes and twists the top off a bottle. The sound gets Charlie’s attention. She whips a look at our younger sister. “Only half. I mean it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Livvie says with a smile.
I grab a slice of pizza and take a huge bite, stalling just a bit longer before I have to pull all the skeletons from my closet. With an impatient huff, Charlie turns to her own food. We eat in silence for a few minutes, but there’s definitely an elephant in the room. I hurry through a few more bites and then set my slice back on the plate.
“Okay. Here’s the story.” I clear my throat and lay it out, keeping my voice as matter-of-fact as possible since I know the shit is about to hit the fan.
I confess everything, all of it, from the first time we met in the market to the lightning-fast courtship to the quickie wedding…
“He was hot. He was Italian. He was sexy as sin. He claimed his father was a descendent of Spanish royalty. His mother was a famous actress, supposedly. He spoke like six languages and he seduced me with every single one of them. Brought me flowers every day. Roses. Sunflowers. Lilies.”
Livvie tosses back a swig of beer and then smiles at me with a dreamy look on her face. “How romantic.”
Charlie grabs the beer out of Livvie’s hand and sets it on the table.
I look at my younger sister, shaking my head. “He was full of shit. It wasn’t romantic at all. It was impulsive, and foolish. I thought he was someone he wasn’t, because I let him sweep me off my feet without asking any hard questions. I never reallyknewRico. Not the real Rico. And by the time I figured it all out, it was too late. I was so naïve.”
“Honey, that’s what love does to everyone,” Charlie says gently.
“I never loved him. I was just inexperienced and infatuated. I didn’t know the difference yet.” The vehemence in my words surprises me. I wasn’t actually sure if that was true until right now. “I have never regretted anything more in my entire life.”
I wrap up my tale of woe, finishing off by describing the final moments in the hostel, when Rico kissed me goodbye and said he’d be right back with espresso and bomboloni from the corner café—and then never returned.
“So what are you gonna do now?” Livvie asks, looking a lot less enchanted now that she’s heard the end of my story.
Shaking my head, I say, “Whatever I can. Whatever my real husband tells me to.”
Charlie grabs Livvie’s beer and finishes it. “You can start by divorcing Rico, obviously…”
“Obviously,” I agree. “I should’ve done it in Italy, but…he was gone, where would I even serve the papers? I was far from home—even my Italian home when he actually left me. Not a citizen, abandoned by a man who said he loved me…I just couldn’t even fathom trying to explain it all to a lawyer, a judge…to both of you.”
Charlie slips her arm around my shoulders and holds me tight against her. “Livvie and I were in Tuscany for a whole summer. You never said anything. We would have helped.”
