"Oh, Marie." Just like my mom, Fiona reached for my hand and held it. But unlike my mom, her expression wasn't sympathetic, it was equal parts frustrated and determined. "I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Matty Simmons. And as much as I'd like to see him with someone as amazing as you, there's a reason it never occurred to me to set him up with any of my friends."
"And why is that?" I had to admit, I was curious about Fiona's reasons. I trusted her completely, both her as a person and her judgment.
"Did he tell you anything about his parents?" Her lovely brown eyes warmed with anxious affection.
"No, actually." He hadn't. I'd asked a few times, but never pushed the issue.
"I knew them, growing up. They're still friends with my parents. Well, I guess they're what my parents consider friends." Her features rearranged into a look of forlorn sadness. "Matty's parents are very cold people."
"They didn't hurt him, did they?" A burst of worry cinched my throat.
"They ignored him. He had a nanny who was very sweet. I babysat him on weekends and tried to give him lots of hugs and affection. And there was a chef on staff who adored him like a son-to a point-or a grandson, I guess. But his own parents had no time for him. The only people who gave him affection were paid to do so. And when those people left his parents' employ, he never saw them again."
"That's awful." Tears stung my eyes as I imagined a child version of Matt, being ignored by his parents. My heart swelled with hurt on his behalf.
"It is. It was. My parents weren't perfect, but they told us they loved us, gave us their version of guidance, were there to answer our questions. He had none of that." Fiona's mouth curved to the side, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "If Matt told you he wasn't capable of a committed relationship, he knows what he's talking about. He's an excellent person. He's been married once and, as you know, it didn't work out. He's not the type to give up easily, or lightly."
I nodded, swallowing a lump of grief along with Fiona's pill of wisdom.
"He grew up without being held or treasured. I'm not saying he's incapable of it, I'm just saying he didn't learn from the people who should have loved him the most. His priority is his work, not people."
Managing a small smile, I turned my palm over and held her hand in mine. "Yes. He's said something similar."
"Like I said, he's a good guy, a really good guy, but you have such a big heart, Marie. You are entirely too generous and loyal and kind. You deserve someone who knows how special and amazing you are. I don't want to see you get hurt by someone who is simply incapable of giving you what you need. It's not his fault. But you are so wonderful. You deserve someone who is going to put you first."
You deserve . . .
"Don't worry. I see things clearly."
Now.
I was seeing clearly now.
17
Synthetic / Bio-fabricated Rhinoceros Horn
A cultured, 3-D printed rhino horn which carries the same genetic fingerprint of, and is visually identical to, an actual horn; "printed" and made of synthetic keratin.
Source: Pembient
The café was much less busy this time, so I had my pick of spots. I'd selected the table. The coveted booth by the window, farthest from the door. The wall curved, creating a nook-type atmosphere. Noise was muted, making it feel private and cozy.
Instead of staring unseeingly at the worst novel ever written, I read a handwritten letter from my friend Camille, the software developer and my neighbor in the office co-op. She'd made good on her threat to take a vacation and was currently in Germany.
And she'd met a man. A German man.
Her words were cautiously optimistic as well as despairing:
He treats me like a queen! Oh, Marie. I wish you could meet him. We met on my first day. I was a mess, coming straight from the airport to the hotel and my room wasn't ready. So I checked my bags and decided to wander the city. I stopped into a bakery and he came out of the back. He's so beautiful, inside and out. His father's people emigrated from Somalia twenty years ago and his mother's side is Bavarian. He speaks Somali, Arabic, German, French, and English. He owns a bakery! Isn't that crazy?
Anyway, I forgot my wallet in my bags and he gave me lunch on the house, joking I would have to wash dishes to pay for it. Then he sat with me and asked me all about myself. He's amazing. I left, feeling like I was walking on a cloud. The next day I brought him the money to pay for my lunch and he wouldn't take it, instead saying that I should let him take me out to dinner. So I did. And we've spent every day together since. Instead of sightseeing every day, I've been helping in the bakery and he's teaching me how to bake. I'M MAKING BREAD!!! His parents live in Bavaria and I spoke to his mother on the phone last night. We're going down there this weekend to meet his family. I only have two weeks left here and I don't know what I'm going to do. I think I'm falling in love with this guy. How crazy is that? What am I going to do? I've spent my whole life building a career, a career I'm proud of, accomplishments that are meaningful. Am I going to give all that up to move to Germany and . . . do what? Date a guy? Who am I? I don't even recognize myself.