I wiped away the tears on my face and checked my email. There were several from Jessica and a couple from Ben. I drew a sharp, painful breath and clicked on his email.
Natalie,
I was really upset to find out that you were seeing someone else on a tabloid website and I apologize if I came off a bit angry. I know that I did the same thing to you after we broke up, but I was just trying to move on. I really don't think it's fair that you're doing this. We should have a discussion before you make a rash decision. We've been together for six years. Why can't I have any say in what happens to our relationship? I am really depressed without you and I've been in therapy these past few weeks. I can't move on. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of you being with another man. Please call me when you get the chance.
Love,
Ben
My heart hammered behind my chest. I didn't like the guilty feelings swirling inside me.
"It's a load of crap."
I slammed down the cup of coffee and hissed as it spilled over the sides. Will stood next to me, as silent as a shadow, reading the email over my shoulder.
"Do you mind?"
He ignored me. "Click on the next one."
Will looked at me stonily, refusing to move from his spot. Whatever, fine. I clicked the next one. The tone of his next email was a lot angrier.
Natalie, what the fuck?
I feel like absolute shit and you probably have no idea. It really hurts that you would ignore me after everything we've been through. I keep seeing photos of you with that asshole. I don't understand why you like him. He sounds like a complete jerk.
Can you please tell me what I could have done differently? I tried to be a good boyfriend to you and I was always there when you needed me. I really don't deserve to be treated this way. When you met me in the city, you made me believe that there was still hope for us. Now, I feel like you're rubbing this in my face to hurt me. Maybe you're only with this guy to piss me off. I really don't appreciate being ignored and I expect a response from you.
-Ben
"He expects a response? What are you, his property?" He let out a bellyful of laughter. "This guy is such an entitled ass. Coming from me, that says a lot."
The email made me feel cold all over. My eyes pricked with tears. "I don't like it. I never wanted to hurt him."
Will stared at me incredulously. "You realize he's just manipulating you, right? You're out in the world, living your life, and he thinks that it's all about him. You must be doing this to hurt him, not because you've moved on. He's a narcissist and he wants you to feel guilty."
I rubbed my arm feverishly. "I need to tell him that it's over. That we're done."
"You are over. You broke up almost a year ago. Don't contact him; he'll only send you more messages. If you ignore them, he'll gradually stop caring about it."
I feel like absolute shit and you probably have no idea. I could hear the despair in that line of text and couldn't stand that I was making him feel bad about himself. We might have broken up, but I still cared about him.
He sank down to my level and held my arms. "Baby, listen to me. His problems are no longer yours. You care too much about what people think of you. He's going to be pissed for a while. So what?"
I shook with tears, hating myself. "I'm sorry about this. I'm sorry you have to see these emails. I don't want him and I don't want to talk about him around you."
"Okay," he beamed. "I got a flight out of Genoa for this evening."
I turned my face back towards the ocean and felt another tug on my heart. "Do we have to leave?"
He stroked my back. "Yeah, but Cinque Terre will always be here. You can always come back."
It was another exhausting night of travel for all three of us. When Will's town car arrived to pick us up from O'Hare, I collapsed into the car and almost instantly fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt a heavy, warm weight on my lap and realized that the cat had crawled onto my lap.
"We're here."
The car pulled into a driveway and stopped in front of a mansion that rivaled Luke's in San Francisco. The red brick home was surrounded by color; plants and bushes of all types thrived around the house. The driveway surrounded a round pool where a large, golden fountain played. When the door opened, Tom dashed from the car to lie on the brick steps on the house, flailing his body in apparent ecstasy.
The light brown wooden doors opened and a woman in her fifties emerged, dressed in white capris and a sky-blue blouse. She beamed when William swept out of the car.
Here we go, I told myself, watching his mother hurry down the steps to greet her son.
"My baby!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.
"Hi, Mom," he said without the same enthusiasm. Will hugged her, his face going a bit pink.
His mother tossed back her dyed blonde hair and looked over his shoulder directly at me, a question forming on her lips. Will glanced at me. "Mom, this is Natalie."
I slid out of the car and took her proffered hand, "Nice to meet you."
Her dark eyes scanned mine, as if she could detect any misgivings stirring inside them and I was reminded of William. His eyes had the same shape and color, and apparently he inherited her unnerving stare. Her lips lifted into a slight smile to soften the message that was: Hurt my son in any way and I will destroy you.
"It's lovely to meet you. You two must be starving. Come in, I'll fix something."
I cast a terrified glance at William, who smiled encouragingly and wrapped his arm around my waist as his mother led the way. "Relax, my mom is nice."
The door opened to a magnificent foyer laid with cream-colored marble. Two sweeping wooden staircases with black railings led upstairs on either side of the circular room. The archways had beautiful, intricate crown molding. Ahead was the living room and to the left was a modern kitchen with granite counters. Inwardly, I laughed at the idea of his mother visiting my apartment.
"This is where you grew up?"
"Yeap. It's been remodeled several times over the years."
"Wow."
I could imagine him and his brothers running around as children, knocking over expensive vases and banging on the white grand piano I saw in the sitting room. Even as an adult, Will had so much energy. It must have driven his parents crazy.
"You're looking a bit pale, William. Have you eaten anything today?"
Mrs. Pardini fussed over her son as he sat down at the kitchen table, smoothing his lapels and brushing his hair. His face bloomed and I sniggered at him behind his mother's back.
"Mom, stop it."
"When was the last time you got a haircut?"
"I have no idea."
She bustled towards the kitchen counter and picked up her phone. "I'll make a hair appointment for you."
I bit my knuckles hard to keep from crying out with laughter. William was mortified. "Mom, sit down," he snapped.
She closed her phone and her eyes narrowed. "There's no need to take that tone with me."
"Yes, there is," he said, suddenly looking quite serious. "What's this I hear about Dad selling Luke's shares?"
My face burned as his mother scowled at him, casting me an irritated glance. "Will, you know we don't talk about this sort of thing in front of-"
"I don't care, Mom. Anything we need to talk about, you can say it in front of Natalie. She already knows everything anyway."
I grimaced at Will's mother, who was staring at me like I had suddenly grown two heads.
"You'll have to talk to your father about it," she said in a final tone. "No, William. Your dad doesn't want me talking about it to anyone. Not even you."
"Oh, come on!" He pounded his fist on the table.
"Tell me how you met your new girlfriend." She smiled innocently.
Will looked pissed at her deflection. "We're dating, Mom. And we met at a party."
Under the kitchen table, my fingernails ground into my palms. It was so awkward. I did not want to be there. I could see her sizing me up, appraising my wardrobe and probably making searing judgments in her head. She pressed her lips into a firm line.
"I guess I'll never get grandchildren from my youngest."
My stomach dropped.
"Jesus!" Will got up from the table. "Fu-I can't-"
And he stormed from the kitchen, leaving me there alone. His mother turned on the spot with a smirk not unlike her son's and zeroed in on me. My jaw dropped. She needled him on purpose to get him out of the room.
Will, you bastard! Don't leave me here alone!
"Don't look so scared," she said in an even voice as she sat down across from me. "You don't have anything to hide, do you?"
"No, no. I'm just not used to all this."
"What do your parents do?"
Ah, so the interrogation begins. "My parents are dentists. I'm a graphic designer."