Page 77 of Ciao, Amore

Terri giggled as her husband took his opportunity to nuzzle her neck. Apparently, they were both tipsy, and with their baby being minded by Didi and Andrew as she practiced walking back and forth, Dani was certain they were headed for a hot interlude somewhere on the premises before the party was over. And oh, how she wished that was her and—

Nope. We don’t talk about Nico.

“Having a good time?” Ken asked her. Sometimes she still couldn’t tell if he was being genuine with her or smug, his silver-blue eyes tilted in a smile.

“I’m having agreattime,” she responded with a dour lift of her glass, then drained it.

What could possibly be better than once again being the bitter bitch at someone else’s wedding?

She’d been living here in Amsterdam for the last month, surfing on her cousin Amber’s couch. Roughly two hours ago, Amber had married her handsome blond Dutchman at a nearby Dutch Reformed Church. Dani watched Amber twirl in her lacy Cinderella-style ballgown, with her golden-brown hair twisted into an intricate updo and pure adoration lighting up her maple-sugar eyes. She was a gorgeous, ecstatic bride, primed to give her new husband several potentially blond babies and live happily ever after in this friendly, super-chill city.

Amsterdam was awesome. Dani wished this had been her original destination when she was making her plans to leave New York all those months ago. It had become her refuge since she’d left – or rather fled – Italy. That country had lost its charm once Nico had gone and taken it with him.

Ugh. Nico again. Please stop.

It should have come as no surprise when Nico didn’t call her upon his return to New York. She knew he was hurt and angry because of the things she’d said, because she asked for more time to trust his love.

“I hope you find whatever you’re looking for.”

Dani replayed that phrase over and over in her mind, couldn’t forget how forlorn he’d looked when he said it. Somehow she’d refused to believe that it was truly over. She waited a week to contact him, but she got no answer. That week became two, then four, then a month. Like someone who’d lost all sense and dignity, she kept trying to reach him. Phone calls, video chat requests, texts. No response. Zero.

Finally, she got the fucking message.

Her mother told her he’d showed up at the brownstone to give Andrew his domino set from Positano as promised. Didi said he was polite but downcast and had declined to come in for dinner and a game. That was the last anyone she knew had seen or heard of him.

To be cut off like that, when all she’d done was express her concerns and ask for more time to sort things out, had been a shock to the system. The idea that he could promise love and commitment one day and then withdraw from speaking to her the next was not only confusing, it was the most deeply painful experience she’d ever endured. She fucking wished she was as heartless as Nico had accused her of being; she wouldn’t be feeling any of this.

Then she got angry. Really fucking angry. If he was going to be a childish bastard about not getting his way, good riddance. Despite him telling her to keep it, she mailed the ring back to him, addressed to Nonno’s vineyard in Parma,. If anyone was going to get in the last “fuck you, bye”, it would be her. She didn’t include a note. The ring would speak for itself.

Terri threw herself into the empty chair at their table. She pulled off her high heels and rubbed her toes.

“Damn, these hurt. But they’re so pretty.” She admired her glittery shoes before stowing them under the table in exchange for a pair of shiny satin ballet slippers from her bag. “Glad I brought these, ’cause I am not playing tonight. Are you coming out with us afterward?”

“Sure,” Dani said with a shrug. “But I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”

Terri pursed her lips and sat up straighter. Before she could start, Dani said, “I’m still going to London, no matter what you guys think.”

Terri craned her neck to check on Ken, who was attempting and failing to shush Keiko. Their toddler was struggling and fussing while Didi shook her head sternly.

“Milan, then Amsterdam, now London? When are you gonna cut this nomad shit and come home? At least stay here with Amber where you know one person. We don’t know anybody in London.”

“Ambi said she didn’t care if I stayed, but for real. A cousin on your couch is fine when you’re engaged, but when you’re newly married, that hoe’s gotta go.”

Terri snorted. “You’re not wrong.” With hopeful eyes, she continued, “There’s always room on our old-fart married couch if you decide to come back to New York and don’t want to live with Mami and Papi. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we’ll manage. We want you home, D. And to be honest, we’re worried about you. You haven’t been yourself. After what happened in Italy with Nico—”

Dani acknowledged her sister’s sentiment with a trembling smile but cut her off with a raised hand. “Thank you, but I don’t need your stinky couch. I’m fine. In fact,” she said, sitting up and shaking her straightened party hair behind her shoulder with an exhale. “I’ve got a new plan. It’s a take on Bruce Lee’s Way of No Way. I’ve been watching a lot of his movies lately, and turns out, he was this dope philosopher.”

What Dani did not mention was the shift to watching martial arts flicks happened because they were big on action and short on romance and heartbreak like all the Italian movies she used to binge. She was officially done with all things Italian now. It reminded her of Nico every time she heard even a word in that language.

“Oh God,” Terri moaned, pressing her forehead. “You with these weird-ass plans. Alright, what’s Bruce Lee’s Way of No Way?”

“That’s when you learn and absorb everything and use whatever resonates. No rigidly sticking to things that don’t work for you, no ‘shoulds’ or ‘shouldn’ts.’ That’s how he created Jeet Kun Do out of all the different styles he studied. I’m calling mine the Plan of No Plan. I hope…”

“Hope what?” Terri asked.

“Nothing.”

What did she hope for now? She hoped she’d finally be able to make sense of what happened to her in Italy, how Nico had changed her life irrevocably. Even though she occasionally daydreamed of appearing on his doorstep and screaming at him for abandoning them, she hoped that wherever Nico was, he was okay.

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