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I feel like a toddler who wobbles from side to side before finding more anchoring from the seat. I rip the seat belt from her hand and try in vain several times to lock it into place. With a tenderness she rarely shows, she covers my hands with her own before she removes mine and does the latch for me.
My head nearly explodes with the close of the car door on both my side and hers. With a groan, my head rotates to the right toward the window, which is open, even with the air-conditioning on. “I meant what I said. Vomit near me and we’re going to have a go. Got it?”
I sigh. “Yeah. Got it.”
Normally she drives like she’s running from the law. Today it’s a snail’s pace. “How the hell did you get here?”
“Rideshare,” I mumble with closed eyes.
“Why here?” she asks.
“Take me to our house.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Where are we?” I mumble.
“Oh my God. Second and Main.”
“Go straight. Turn left.” I can feel her confusion from here, unless that’s just me focusing on her words so hard just to make any sense of them. “When you see roses out your window, stop.”
“I’ve driven an hour here and we have an hour home if we don’t have to stop for you.”
“Do it. I need to know.”
I hear her mumble in a mix of Italian and English until the car jerks to a stop. “I see roses. Now can we leave?”
“No.” I fumble on the side of the seat to find the lever to raise me up. After many attempts the seat begins to move. My left hand pats down my side until I find the seat belt and release it.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need a flower. I need it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I want to tell her I came here. She needs to know. Same moon. Same flower.”
“Rafael, I need you to somehow make more sense.”
“I was a father for about a minute and twelve seconds.”
“I’m sorry. What?” Her voice rotates from the left to me. Her tone cuts through my melting brain.
“Ava, my Ava. She thought she might be pregnant. I’d give anything to have that seventy two seconds back with her. I told her about our house. I told her I would take care of her. I told her we’d make it work.” I finally give up on unlatching the seat belt myself and begin pounding the door panel with my fist. “Why won’t she listen? Why? Fuck.”
Nico’s hand slides over to my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You need to let it go. Nothing has changed here. You’re still you and I’m still me. Once you’re done with this project and back in Italy, things will go back to the way they were before.”
“I don’t want the past. I want my future. I want her.” My mind has a surge of sobriety. I look over at Nico. Her eyes are staring straight ahead. Her hand is still playing its normal role on my body. “Look at me.”
Her left hand grips and regrips over the steering wheel before her eyes cast down and toward me. “I’m looking.”
“I’m not going back to Italy, not to live anyway. Not now. Even if I don’t work as much, even if I don’t work at all, even if she doesn’t speak to me, I have to be near her. Nico, I love you. I do. I’m in love with her. I want to be married to her, have children with her. I want to create roots here.”
“Looks like she’s not the only one you’ve been lying to.”
“Don’t,” I tell her.
“I’ve felt it for weeks. I just needed you to say something. You’re changed. You’re sad.”
