Alessandra knocks on my door at three. As I make my way from the living room to greet her, I go over the timeline before she leaves in my head. It’s three o’clock now. Her flight leaves at eight. She needs to be at the airport at five-thirty. She needs to leave my place at five. We have two hours.
Two fucking hours. Before she’s out of my life forever.
I open the door to find Alessandra standing there in gray leggings and a dark blue oversized sweater, her two jam-packed suitcases on either side of her. She gives me a small smile, and I can feel us both straining to pretend that everything’s fine.
“Let me take those,” I say, stepping forward to drag her suitcases inside.
“Grazie,” she murmurs, moving aside so I can take them.
Once her bags are inside and out of the way, I usher Alessandra in and place a soft kiss on her cheek. “Prego.”
She responds to my kiss by wrapping her arms around me, pulling me in for a long, warm embrace. As the two of us stand there holding each other, it takes every ounce of strength in me not to tell her to blow off her flight, to just stay here in my arms forever.
When we pull back, I brush her hair out of her eyes, holding her cheek in my palm. “Mio bellissimo,” I whisper. My beautiful.
Alessandra turns and presses a kiss into my hand before stepping away from me and sighing. “If we start our sappy good-byes now, I’ll be too exhausted to get on that plane later,” she says with a chuckle.
She’s joking, I know, but part of me really can’t resist…
“Is that a promise?”
I step forward to close the distance between us, slipping my hand around her waist and pulling her hips against mine. I know it’s not fair, I know I’m playing dirty, but every fiber of my being is telling me to make her stay. The voice in the back of my head is screaming, Fight, motherfucker, fight!
“Quinn…” Alessandra stops and turns her face to avoid my eyes as she pulls away.
“I know, I know,” I mutter, releasing her from my arms and stepping back. “I’m only teasing. You’ll love Italy.” Stupid, Kingsley, stupid.
Alessandra smiles and says nothing, running her fingers through her hair. I can’t tell if it’s just me, but I think she’s avoiding eye contact.
“Can I get you anything?” I turn toward the kitchen and motion for her to follow. “Water, seltzer, glass of wine? I have food, as well, if you’re hungry. . . cheese, crackers, popcorn, grapes, whatever your heart desires.”
“A glass of water would be great,” she says, her voice a little too high.
As I fill two glasses of water, she sits on the couch, her gaze wandering over the room like she’s trying to soak up every detail. When I join her, I ask about the get-together with Deanna last night, and we quickly begin chatting with ease again. I do my best to focus as she explains the crazy cocktails Deanna made her drink, but I find myself compulsively checking the time, wishing desperately that it would slow down-or even stop-just this once.
When the clock strikes four-thirty, I shift in my seat, waiting for her to pause so I can seize the moment. She’s been talking about the travel guides and portable phone chargers her friends gave her as going-away presents, and I figure now is as good a time as any to give her mine.
Alessandra pauses, and when she sees that my expression has changed, she playfully raises an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” she asks, a grin spreading across her face.
“Wait right here.” I stand and walk over to the kitchen counter, where I’ve tucked a small box out of sight.
Her playful look fades into one of understanding, and her face falls a little when she sees the small blue box, its white ribbon crisp and shining. “Oh, Quinn, you didn’t have to-” she says, but I raise my hand and shake my head to stop her.
“This has nothing to do with obligation.” I sit next to her on the couch, closer than before. “I wanted to.” When I place the box in her lap, she takes it delicately in her hands, rubbing the edges of the ribbon between her fingers.
“Should I pack this away and open it later?” she asks, reaching for her purse.
“No, please, open it now.” I place my hand on her thigh.
“Okay,” she says softly, tugging gently on the ends of the ribbon to undo the bow. The ribbon falls away from the box, and I watch her eyes grow wide and watery as she opens the lid, finding the necklace I picked out for her weeks ago.
“Quinn, it’s. . . it’s beautiful,” she says, her voice soft and shaky. She lifts the delicate chain out of the box, holding its pearl pendant at eye level.
“May I?” I ask, reaching out my hand.
She nods, giving me the necklace and turning away from me, sweeping her long, dark hair over her shoulder. I place my gift around her neck, my fingertips brushing against the velvety skin of the nape of her neck as I fasten the tiny clasp.
“How does it look?” she asks, turning to face me straight on, fluffing her hair around her shoulders.
“Bellissima.” I smile. It’s perfect on her, just like I knew it would be.
Alessandra leans in and places a small peck on my lips before taking my cheek in her hand and pulling me in for a longer, slower kiss. Our lips begin moving faster and more impatiently, and I move my hands all over her body, taking in every last inch of her before she leaves.
I can feel a bulge growing behind my zipper as I grab a handful of her ass, her soft moan escaping into my mouth. I’m about to pull her on top of me, prepared to let our bodies do what they do so well, when she suddenly pulls away, retreating to the other end of the couch, leaving a good two feet of space between us.
She runs her fingers over the pendant, tears welling in her eyes. “There’s not enough time,” she murmurs, her breathing ragged.
I nod and clear my throat, shifting to make my erection slightly more concealed and comfortable. Alessandra and I watch each other in silence for a moment, our breathing heavy and labored, until I break the silence with a sigh.
“Are you sure you have to go?” It kills me to ask the question, but it would hurt even more not to try.
She stares at me with wide, glassy eyes, her mouth slightly open. When she blinks, a single tear rolls down her cheek. “Yes, I’m sure.” Before I can reach out, she quickly wipes away the tear, then sniffs and clears her throat. “Sal is back working. He’ll be your tutor again starting next week.”
I nod silently, swallowing the lump rising in my throat.
She glances at the clock on the wall. Four fifty-seven. “I should go,” she whispers, rising and slinging her purse over her shoulder.
I walk her to the door, dragging her suitcases out for her. We stand in the open doorway, waiting in silence for her taxi. Within moments, the car arrives, and I carry her suitcases behind her and lift them into the trunk.
I open the car door for her, and she places her carry-on in the backseat. Alessandra turns and throws her arms around me, squeezing me harder than she ever has before. We kiss briefly, careful to not fall into our passionate rhythm again, before giving each other one last, long look.
“Safe travels,” I say, pressing my lips softly against her forehead.
“Grazie,” she replies, her eyes searching mine. “For everything. Really.”
“No, bellissima, thank you.”
She climbs into the backseat and I close the door behind her, stepping back onto the curb as the taxi slowly pulls away, picking up speed as it merges into traffic.
I stand there watching the cab until it fades into a small yellow dot in the distance, turns the corner, and takes Alessandra away and out of my life-forever.