Justin should stay out of this, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Why am I here?”
“To visit. As a friend.” Antonio kept his gaze fixed on Emily. “I didn’t know he was coming until he showed up in my office today. I thought inviting him over would be a pleasant surprise. I promise I didn’t invite him as a way to trap you into making good on a hypothetical conversation.”
Intriguing.
Emily looked past Antonio to Justin, making eye contact for the first time that evening. “Pretend I’m a tad insecure about reaching a new level in this relationship, and assure me you’re not here to screw things up. That you didn’t fly halfway around the world, without warning either of us, because you hoped—I don’t know—that being face to face would make Antonio more likely to listen when you told him you were wrong. That you love him too.”
How the fuck did she know that?
“That’s not what this is about.” A waver ran through Antonio’s words.
“I’m asking Justin,” Emily said pointedly.
Justin reached for denial, to make her feel better, but he didn’t grasp it quickly enough.
“Fuck.” Emily stepped back, face twisting in pain.
“But you two look so good together, I couldn’t say anything.” Justin struggled for the right words to fix the situation.
“I can’t do this.” Emily spun and strode into one of the rooms, shutting the door behind her.
At least she didn’t slam it.
Antonio sank onto the couch. “Wow. You have shitty timing. Ten years, and you picknowto figure things out.”
Justin cringed at the words. Antonio wasn’t kicking him out or telling him to go fuck himself. The realization offered little consolation. “This isn’t what I wanted. And don’t tell me I should have thought it through first. I’ve spent the last month missing you and trying to figure out why and admitting to myself how I feel. I wouldn’t be here, though, if I thought... I should have known the two of you would wind up together. You wouldn’t have made the move if you weren’t falling, and you always got along better with Emily than I did.”
“Jealous?”
“Immensely.” The answer slipped out without thought. Justin realized how true it was. He flew here to confess his love to Antonio, and now he was envious he didn’t have Emily. Fuck, he was a selfish prick.
“You couldn’t have known.” Antonio sounded sympathetic. “You took her at her word that we were friends. What else could you do?”
“You’re taking this well.”
Antonio gave a barking laugh. “I’m screaming on the inside. I don’t know whether to deck you or kiss you, and neither one matters, because Emily needs me. I need to talk to her.”
Justin stood and crossed the room in time to grab Antonio’s arm before he could knock on the bedroom door. “Let me?” Justin didn’t know what he was going to say, but he broke this; he needed to fix it.
Antonio held up his hands in surrender and backed away.
Justin knocked. “Can I come in?”
There was no response.
“Emily?” he said.
Seconds later, the latch snicked, and the door creaked open an inch. Justin nudged it wider and saw her standing at the other side of the room, facing a wall covered with photographs of Milan. He walked toward her but stopped about a foot back. He was intensely aware of Antonio watching from the doorway.
She pointed at one of the photos. “I took that the day we got here. I was completely jetlagged, and riding the high of being someplace new.” She gestured toward another one. “We took a weekend trip to Rome. I saw the freaking Sistine Chapel and the Colosseum.”
He looked at the collage of images. Some were of Antonio, others of her or the both of them or buildings and landscapes. All of them radiated her passion.
She slumped her shoulders. “This is a lifetime of memories from less than a month. I’m not saying I live in some sort of magical utopia, but I’m really fucking happy with our life here.”
“Tell me what I have to say to make this right.”
Emily shook her head. “I don’t know.”