Page 78 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

I gave him a two thumbs up and winked. I must have still been a little woozy.

‘What the hell are you trying to do? Kill yourself?’ Paul cried as he drove me home.

I wanted to tell him how I felt, how everything was a mess. But instead I gulped, trying to swallow back the tears that I’d been holding in for days now.

*

The next day I was feeling a little better. That is, until my cellphone rang with Alberto’s name in bright lights on my screen. I debated, then finally picked up.

‘May I offer you an olive branch?’ he said.

‘Grilled or baked?’

A chuckle. ‘I apologize for being astronzo, a jerk,about the woman thing. It’s just that… from the day I met you—’

Oh God, please no. ‘I can’t talk right now,’ I cringed, just wanting to rewind the clock to about a minute before he kissed me to prevent it.

‘OK… will you call me back when you have a moment?’

‘Sure,’ I lied and hung up before he could say anything else.

At that point, I should have given Paul the heads-up on Alberto’s sexual preferences. But he was angry enough at me as it was about the wedding plans. There was no way I was telling him Alberto had kissed me. It was my first secret from him.Ever. And my very first secret from Julian.

*

‘We need to talk,’ Julian said a few days later when he returned from Amsterdam.

His face was unshaven, his eyes were wild and red-rimmed, and he’d even lost weight. How he’d changed in the space of a few weeks. That was what shameless all-night cavorting did to you. And now he wanted to have ‘the talk’. Meaning that after he’d spent all that time with Sienna, he realized what he was missing out on as long as he was staying with me. And he wanted out.

How dare you!I cried on the inside.How dare you break my heart and do this to us after all this time together!

A sharp pang, mainly fear, shot through my system. Here it came, The Final Blow. He was going to leave me. My knees began to shake and my stomach went all funny and I wanted to throw up again. No, I told myself. I wasn’t going to go all weak and stuff.

I had no choice but to look him in the face, and I stood my ground under his scrutinizing gaze, biting on the insides of my cheeks to stop from crying, at the same time wondering how either of us would pull this off. I couldn’t even imagine what his opening gambit would be like, but at this point, nothing would surprise me. I knew where this was going.

‘Erica, you and I need to sit down and have a good talk.’

No, no, no! Not yet. He couldn’t be the one to leave me. Not again, not now – not like this! I wouldn’t be able to stand it. If anything, I should be leavinghim.

At that, my cheeks morphed into a painful smile. ‘Can’t now. I’m on my way out.’

‘Can’t it wait?’ he said, surprised.

‘I’ve got a lunch date, actually.’ Shit. Me and my big mouth. Now what? He knew everyone in town and would know I was lying.

‘A lunch date?’

I did my usual teapot stance with my hands on my hips. ‘Do you find that so hard to believe?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Of course not. Who’s this lunch date with?’

And then I had a brainstorm, like people do when they’re desperate. ‘With Paul’s chef. The chef from our wedding, ironically.’

‘Erica…’ he whispered. ‘I know you’re frustrated, but please hang in there. I promise you we’re getting married as soon as I can come up for air.’

‘Don’t bother,’ I answered, yanking my wrist from his gentle clasp. ‘I wasn’t holdingmybreath. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to see a man about the rest of my life.’ Jesus, I should have joined the local Greek tragedy group.

And that was when he took me by the shoulders, nailing me to the spot.

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