Page 43 of Italy Can Bite Me

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“Andtoyourleft,you’ll see…” I trail off, staring at the ornate altar, hoping it will magically beam the words into my brain.Nothing. Niente.“An incredibly… shiny thing. With, um, angels and… stuff.”

There’s nothing quite like the Duomo at twilight. The way candlelight flickers across soaring pillars and ancient marble, turning everything soft and golden. The air is thick with a mix of incense, history, and the whispers of countless prayers. Even the stones are pulsing with secrets, eager to divulge the most scandalous tales from the past half millennium.

But tonight? Tonight I’m the world’s shittiest tour guide.

I completely blanked on showing off the sundial on the floor—the one that tracks perfect time with a beam of sunlight from a tiny roof hole. Forgot to bring up the statue of Saint Bartholomew holding his own skin like a superhero cape, which always gets a mix of ews and awesomes from the crowd. And I don’t think I even shared that it took six centuries and seventy-eight architects to complete this marvel—and here’s a mystery for the ages—no one knows who the original architect was.

All because Katie Crawford lied to me.

Her arm is locked through mine—the seniors still insisting on proper gentleman etiquette—but she feels like a ghost of herself.

The confidence she had earlier? Vanished.

The playful banter? Ciao.

The way she owned that red dress? Gone.

It’s like she pressed pause on herself,leaving behind only a fragile shadow of this Katie of mine.

Katie ofmine?Why the hell did I call hermine?

“And here we have…” I gesture vaguely at a massive painting I could normally describe in my sleep. “Jesus. Doing… Jesus things.”

Brilliant commentary, idiota.

That damn binder keeps flashing through my mind—the one I risked hypothermia and permanent testicular retreat to save from Lake Como. One night, no strings, clean getaway, no fucking feelings—that’s my world. That’s what makes sense. So why can’t I stop thinkingabout this woman who loves so deeply—planning every detail, every moment, every breath?

No one’s ever wanted me with that kind of intensity.

The sheer dedication of it stuns me.

And why does watching her hurt feel like I’m the one breaking?

“And now, my friends,” I announce to the group, “we climb to heaven itself. Just three hundred and twenty-five steps to the most spectacular view in Milan.”

The collective groan from my seniors could drown out the bells of a Sunday mass.

“Just kidding,” I say with a wink. “We’ll take the elevator.”

Twenty minutes later, Milan glitters below us like someone bedazzled the entire city. The view is pure Italian magic—modern buildings playing peek-a-boo with ancient towers, streets woven together in a beautiful, orchestrated mess. The air is perfumed with the scent of blooming jasmine, and a gentle breeze carries the warmth of a summer night. The city seduces each and every one of us, one sparkling light at a time.

I’m doing my usual tour guide thing, highlighting all the best landmarks. Rose and Stan are holding hands, the Dawson sisters are taking gargoyle selfies, and I spot Howie and Deborah sneaking away from the group with muffled cackling.

For fuck’s sake, please have them make it back to their hotel room before clothes start flying.The last thing I need is my senior citizens defiling sacred ground. Though knowing Deborah, she’d probably high-five the saint statues on her way out.

“I’ve decided what I want for my Wish Card.”

Katie materializes beside me, but something’s off.

She thrusts the Instagram feed on her phone in my face. “Look at this!”

I squint at a poorly lit photo of a pasty hand next to an empty display case with the caption: Fossil exhibit coming soon.

“Jared didn’t like my photo, but he posted this exactly seven minutes and twenty-three seconds ago.” Her words come faster than I’ve ever heard her speak. “Which means he’s online. Just… ignoring me.”

She’s pacing now, her heels click-clacking against the timeless marble in a frantic rhythm. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. I just need to adjust the timeline. Create a new plan. Because that’s what you do when plan A isn’t working—you don’t give up, you make a plan B! And a plan C! And maybe a plan D through Z just to be safe!”

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