Sunday lunch. I've booked a restaurant near the Trevi Fountain. Somewhere touristy enough that it doesn't feel too intimate, but private enough that I can orchestrate what happens.
Simona and Anneka confirmed they're coming. Flavio said yes, though I could hear the hesitation in his voice when he accepted.
I'm going to tell Simona how I feel. I'm going to lay it out there—the whole thing. That I've been watching her. That I'm fascinated by her. That there's something about the way she moves through the world that makes everything else seem small and pointless.
And if she rejects me, at least I'll know. At least I won't spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I'd been brave enough to try.
The worst part about getting older is that you realize "bravery" is just another word for "doing what you want regardless of who it hurts."
Sonya keeps calling. I'm not answering. I'll deal with that after Sunday. After I figure out what I actually want.
The truth is I know what I want. I just want permission to want it.
Comments
Mario, before you tell Simona anything, you need to handle things with Sonya. It's not fair to anyone to proceed otherwise.
This is going to end badly. I can feel it.
Typical selfish move. He doesn't care about Sonya or what she might be going through.
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