Page 85 of Better Than Gelato
“I just mean we could come up with a schedule for visiting each other. I get my exam lineup in a few weeks, and we can plan out some dates.”
“Okay.”
“And then between visits, we can call each other in the evenings or text when we get a chance.”
I nod my head.What else can we do?
“And I’d hope that if you ever wanted to go on a date with someone else, you would let me know beforehand.”
“Jake, I love you. Why in the world would I go on a date with some random guy?”
And then before I can stop it, my brain pulls up an image of me and Lorenzo holding hands, eating dinner together, dancing.
But that was different. A million years ago. Before I fell in love with Jake.
We walk quietly with only the cars breaking the silence. My hands start sweating.
Do I tell Jake about Lorenzo? Does it even matter anymore? That was ages ago. What good would come of telling him?
I keep walking and try to put it out of my mind. But my thoughts keep hounding me.
Do I really want to have some big secret between us? No, I do not. I’ll just tell him and that will be that.
“I can’t wait for you to visit me at Columbia,” he says.
“Mm-hmm.”Okay. How to start?
“You’re going to love New York City.”
“Yep.”This is harder than I thought.
My face squinches up as I search for the right words.
Jake sees my expression and gives me a smile. “I know it’s not fun talking about this stuff. I just don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
I have to tell him now.I can’t think of a good way to say it, so I just say it the regular bad way, all in a rush.
“I went out on a date with someone while you were in America.”
Jake stops and looks at me. He drops my hand. “What?” The hurt in his eyes tells me he heard and understood.
I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I thought I was breaking up with you when you got back. I didn’t think it would matter.”
He takes a step back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were interviewing at med schools! I didn’t want to get in your head and wreck things.”
Jake nods once, like he concedes the point. “Who was it?” He’s not looking at me anymore. It’s better, I can’t stand to see the pain on his face.
“Just some Italian guy who asked me out.” He flinches. Would he have been happier if it was someone in our group? If I’d gone out with Diego and we’d never told him?
“What happened?”
I shrug my shoulders. “We went out to dinner and then we went dancing.”
“Did you kiss him?” His voice is cold. Not cruel, just devoid of warmth. Tears spring up in my eyes.
“No. I never even saw him again after that night. I never returned any of his calls or texts.”
