Page 113 of Italy Can Bite Me

“Why not?”

“Some men, they carry world on shoulders. Until they ready to share weight…” He shrugs.

Then, as if he’s just dropped some secret piece of wisdom, he inhales his pastry and walks away.

I stand there, shell-shocked, as he plops down at a table and digs into his buffet for one, utterly unfazed by the emotional bomb he just dropped.

What. The. Actual. Hell.

“Men,” Aunt Deb mutters when I flop back into my seat, radiating frustration.

“Men,” I echo, stabbing my croissant with unnecessary force.

For a brief moment, she smirks, her usual Aunt Deb sparkle flickering back to life. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re in love with that Italian stud.”

I scowl at her. “I’m not in love with him. I’min ragewith him.”

“All shades of the same color, darling,” she says, taking a sip of her coffee.

I glare at my plate, my chest tight with confusion and hurt and a tiny glimmer of hope I can’t quite extinguish. Matteo Monti might have called memi amore, but right now? He’smi headache. And I’m not leaving Rome without some damn answers.

“There she is! Katie! Katie!”

I freeze mid-stab into my half-dissected pastry. That voice. That voice belongs to— No. It couldn’t be. My head swivels toward the entrance, and my stomach drops.

I blink. Once. Twice. “Mom?”

There, standing in the doorway, is my mother, Suzanne Crawford. Her impeccably highlighted blonde hair and country-club tennis tan radiate suburban perfection. But she’s not alone. Oh no. Behind her is my entire family, lined up like suspects in a crime where the weapon was passive aggression.

My fork clatters against fine china as I take in the emerging catastrophe. My dad in his signature golf polo. My brother David, who probably squeezed in this family ambush between saving babies and walking on water. His perfect wife Emma and their Instagram-worthy children. And hovering at the edges like supporting characters in my personal rom-com gone wrong: Jared’s parents?

“Surprise!” Mom’s voice could shatter the crystal chandeliers. “We’re in Rome!”

She yanks me from my chair and pulls me into a hug so tight I’m pretty sure one of my tits just got a mammogram. “Can you believe it? We’re all here!”

“No,” I manage, my voice strangled. “Really. I cannot believe you are all here.”

I shoot Aunt Deb a desperate look, but she simply raises her coffee cup with a smirk. “You’re on your own for this one, kiddo.”

And then, as if Satan himself is determined to turn my life into a horror movie, I see him.

Jared.

Standing there in his neatly knotted tie covered in tiny dinosaur fossils. He’s a man who missed the memo to stay in the past.

“Hey there, Katiebug.” His smile is hesitant, familiar.

“Hi?” I say, the word tumbling out more like a question because my brain has gone offline.

“Oh, isn’t this just wonderful!” my mom chirps, clearly oblivious to the fiery vortex of chaos she’s unleashed. “I’ve been talking to Jared’s mom, Barbara, and we both agreed it was time to hatch a plan to get you two back together.Surprise!”

I gape at her, my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish desperately searching for water.Words? Where are the words?

Jared takes a step closer, rubbing the back of his neck in that boyish, awkward way he used to when he’d forget my birthday. “Katie, listen. I… I’m sorry. I’ve missed you like crazy. I didn’t reach out because I didn’t know what to say after being such a jerk. But Katie, I still love you.”

“And don’t worry,” Mom chirps, patting Jared’s arm as though he’s a prized show poodle. “I told him all about your tour guide fake-boyfriend scheme to get his attention.”

“Yes, it worked!” Jared nods enthusiastically. “I was insanely jealous. When I saw those pictures of you with that guy, I thought I’d lost my shot completely. Then your mom reached out and told me your true feelings.”

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