Page 100 of Valentino

My eyes widen. “We did too.” My mind goes back to that weekend. “And I vaguely remember Giovanna being weird with me that weekend.”

“I think she left early one morning without saying goodbye to anyone, didn’t she?”

Our eyes widen as the puzzle seems to fall into place. “So it’s probably true then,” Francesca whispers.

We stare at each other, rocked by this new piece of evidence.

“I don’t get it,” I scoff. “If Valentino had always wanted me, why didn’t he just tell me that Carlo was sleeping around?”

“Maybe he threatened to, maybe that’s what they were fighting about?”

My heart sinks. “Poor Giovanna.”

“It’s ironic when you think about it, actually.”

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“You were madly in love with Valentino since the day you first met him, when we were teenagers, don’t you remember?”

How could I ever forget?

“But he didn’t like me.” I rearrange the napkin on my lap, uncomfortable with where this is going. “He made that very clear.”

“What if you had it wrong?”

My eyes rise to meet hers.

“Do you remember why you first started talking to Carlo in the first place?”

“No,” I lie.

I do.

“Can we change the subject please; this is just depressing.” I snap.

“Yes.” Francesca’s eyes widen. “Oh my God, it’s all coming back to me, Carlo knew you had a crush on Val and one night when we saw him out he said he had a message for you from him that he needed to tell you, so you gave him your number.”

The memory comes flooding back like a toxic river and I nod. “Yes.”

“What was the message?” she asks.

“Just that….” I begin to hear my heartbeat in my ears as I connect the dots, it aligns with what Valentino was telling me this morning. “He was going to propose to Giovanna.”

“And you believed him…. I believed him too….”

We stare at each other,

“That was all a part of his grand plan.” Francesca reaches over and takes my hand in hers. “Turn you against Valentino only to move in on you himself. He played the hero who came swooping in to rescue you.”

“Here we are.” The waitress interrupts us and we both sit back guiltily.

She puts Francesca’s plate down in front of her and then mine. “Your breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

We both stare at the plates in front of us, I pick up my knife and fork. “I think I just lost my appetite.”

“Same.”