“Why don’t you check in with Gio and text us his location?”
“Sure thing.” Mickey hopped up, and while he didn’t run out of the room, he did move pretty damn fast.
“Anyone else have a compliment for my fiancée?”
I bit back a smile when the guys stayed quiet.
“Good.” Luca reclaimed his seat and nudged the plate in my hand. “Eat.”
Rolling my eyes, I scooped up some mostaccioli. While I ate, the tension in the room grew. No one spoke, but the looks they were giving each other seemed to work just fine. “If you guys need to talk, I can go,” I mumbled around the pasta.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Marco and Luca answered at the same time.
“No,” Luca repeated. “What we need to discuss can wait.”
So, they continued their bizarre standoff while I filled up on the best Italian buffet I’d ever had. Or maybe it was the fact I hadn’t eaten an entire meal in a few days. Funny thing about stress and grief, they can obliterate your appetite.
Setting the plate on the coffee table, I stood up. “I’m going to check on Maria. You guys do whatever you need to.” I kissed Luca’s cheek and gestured to the still full plate. “Finish that. You didn’t eat breakfast.”
The men all stood as I left the room, a move that would take some getting used to.
The walls at the front of the house were lined with photos of Pete, Maria, and his family. One picture, in particular, caught my eye.
“That was our tenth anniversary.” Maria’s soft voice made me jump, and she placed a hand on my arm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
I waved her off. “No, I was spacing out.” Turning back to the photos, I pointed at the one I’d been staring at. “Is this London?”
Maria smiled, her puffy eyes squinting. “It is.” Her long fingers skimmed the frame. “We went for our tenth wedding anniversary.” Her smile grew. “Pete decided it was time to kick start our travel.” She grinned and led me down to another picture. “This was just last year when we went to Morocco. I can’t explain how beautiful it was. This picture doesn’t even do it justice. Next year was supposed to be Japan.”
“You both look so happy.”
“We were.” Maria blew out a breath. “I was actually coming to find you. Can you help me with something upstairs?”
“Of course.”
She passed me and started up the stairs. “There’s a box of things Pete would want Luca to have. I figured it’d be safe to give it to you.”
She led me into a bright, cozy bedroom. While the rest of the house smelled like marina and bread, the bedroom reeked of Pete’s cologne as if she’d sprayed it on every surface. Framed prints from around the world hung on the walls, while knick-knacks from their travels were displayed on lovely handmade shelves.
“Let me see.” Maria reached under the bed, feeling around until she smiled. “There we are.” She pulled out a small white box and stood up. “It’s just a few little things, but . . .” She shrugged and handed it over.
“I’m sure Luca will love whatever it is.”
Maria nodded and sat down on the edge of her bed. “I don’t think I can stay here.”
“I’m sorry?” I sat next to her as she glanced around the room.
“Without Pete, I don’t know if I can stay in this house. Once I get Ma settled, I’m going to take off for a few months.”
I covered her hand with mine, following her eye-line to a picture sitting on the nightstand.
“They say your wedding day is the happiest day of your life, but it was just one of many perfect days with Pete.” She chuckled. “You know, on our fourth date, I worked up the courage to tell him I didn’t want kids, and if he expected me to, it was best for him to find someone else. I was ready to walk away heartbroken because I was already half in love with him.” Maria turned to me, tears welling in her eyes. “Pete just laughed and asked me why I thought he wanted kids. Of course, I didn’t have an answer. A month later, he proposed.”
What do you say to something like that? Something so heartbreakingly romantic and funny?