“I wasn’t that close,” he interjected.
“I could see the sweat on your forehead!” she said, her eyes twinkling. “I was sure he was a creeper at first. I saw the camera and thought he’d been taking pictures of me. I asked him to show me—to prove he hadn’t!”
“And then my charm and good looks won you over.” He laughed.
“Whatever.” She pushed him lightly.
“For what it’s worth, you’re way more beautiful than anything I photographed in the Amalfi Coast.”
“Isn’t he so sweet? And that’s how he really talks!”
June felt like she was watching a little old couple being interviewed in When Harry Met Sally. She had to admit, it was cute. But it also felt like a dream. Her daughter couldn’t be engaged to a man she’s known for …?
“When did you meet?” June asked casually.
Olivia and Zach shared a look.
Zach answered. “Six weeks ago.”
“Almost seven,” Olivia added, as if that would help.
June weighed her next words carefully. She realized that asking them if this was some terrible TikTok prank that Gen Zers were playing on their parents wouldn’t go over well. She also didn’t want to make the same mistake her mom did when she told her she was engaged the first time. June could still remember the heavy weight of her mom’s disapproval as she drove from her childhood home back to her campus apartment. She didn’t want to make Olivia feel like that. Ever. Plus, he’d read Moby-Dick. He couldn’t be that bad. June struggled to find something to say, but she was coming up blank.
“Mom, you must be exhausted. We should let you go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Olivia said, the smile that had lit up her face gone. June’s heart hurt. She couldn’t let her daughter hang up feeling badly.
She struggled to find something positive to say. “I’m happy for you both, sincerely. I’m a little surprised. That’s all. It was nice to meet you, Zach,” June said, and found that she meant it. She only wanted the best partner for Olivia, and if this amateur photographer/real estate agent was him, then she would work hard to embrace him. “Call me tomorrow,” June added, hoping her daughter understood that’s when she would feel comfortable saying more. And asking the complicated questions. Like, Why did you keep this man a secret?
Because in June’s experience, secrets only led to disaster.
CHAPTER TWO
The next day, Olivia leaned against the railing on the narrow terrace of her studio apartment. It was perched above a delicatessen—the smell of freshly baked baguettes from the morning lingered in the air. Olivia released the breath she’d been clutching for dear life since she’d talked to her mom for the second time. When June called her back earlier, she’d had a lot of questions—many she hadn’t felt comfortable asking in front of Zach. Olivia had done her best to explain why she’d agreed to marry a man she’d only known for a few weeks. After not spending any time with him in the “real world.” But no matter what she said, it felt like her mom didn’t get it. Didn’t get her. June’s skepticism had felt like a straw, sucking out every ounce of Olivia’s excitement.
How did she put into words how her heart had opened in a way it never had before? That in the hundreds of hours they’d talked, she’d told him things she’d only shared with her sister Chloe, who was her best friend. That she fell more in love with him each evening that they spent lounging on the patios of restaurants clinging to the cliffsides while drinking tangy Aperol spritzes and devouring spaghetti alla Nerano and lemon risotto with ricotta—the colorful plates they were served on as beautiful as the dishes themselves. Night after night they ordered heaping scoops of pistachio gelato (their favorite flavor) and took long walks through the winding streets. Then they’d fall into one of their beds, their hands on fire as they touched every inch of each other’s bodies.
They filled their days playing a game they called Open the Retro Paper Guidebook Olivia’s Mom Gave Her and Do Whatever It Says on That Page. It was against the rules to Google anything. As they walked the gorgeous gardens of Villa Cimbrone in Ravello and devoured tiramisu while drinking carafes of house wine, Z told her about growing up as an only child and how he’d invented an imaginary friend that he hung out with for the better part of one summer. When they’d taken a ferry to Ischia and swam in Sorgeto, one of its many hot springs, Olivia giggled as Zach willingly smeared green age-defying mud all over his body. Olivia had confessed that she and her sister had secretly schemed for her parents to get back together after their split, Chloe going so far as to try to fake a ruptured appendix. It felt cathartic to laugh while explaining how they’d Googled the symptoms, not thinking through the fact that their father, an anesthesiologist, would see right through the ruse.
When they’d hiked the Path of the Gods, a five-mile cliff-top trail with bird’s-eye views of the Amalfi coastline so stunning that the pictures Zach took couldn’t capture its essence, Z had confided that photography was his true passion. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen to travel to Italy—so many beautiful and inspiring subjects! He’d gone into real estate because he hadn’t wanted to let his dad down. Since Zach was a boy, his father had told him they’d be business partners when Zach grew up. One of Zach’s first words had been commission (though it came out more like mish-un).
Zach had confessed that his dad meant well—he was never forceful or demanding in his dream that they one day work together—but Zach also couldn’t remember a moment when he’d been given a choice in the matter. He’d often walk into his dad’s office and study the endless real estate awards he’d won, displayed on every wall and shelf. Zach would feel a pit in his stomach, wondering if he could ever find the same success. Or if he wanted to.
Later, after Zach had his license, his fear of disappointing his father would make him physically sick and he’d often throw up before their open houses. Once his dad overheard him and knocked on the bathroom door of one of the estates they were selling, asking if he was okay. Zach thought, I could tell him right now that this isn’t my passion, that I want to find a way to make photography a career, but he lied and said it was food poisoning instead. Olivia felt for Zach. She could relate because it had been her father’s idea for her to go into law, but in her case, she was also passionate about it. She hoped Zach would one day find his voice and follow his own dreams.
Olivia didn’t know if Zach put his dirty clothes in the hamper or if he called his grandparents on their birthdays (two of her mom’s questions), but she knew he was kind to the staff at every restaurant, that he had different smiles depending on what was amusing him, and that he didn’t talk in complete sentences before his first cup of coffee in the morning. She couldn’t explain how her heart had melted when she met the calico named Bart that Zach had befriended. The cat could be found on the stone wall outside his owner’s shoe shop. Zach would give him pieces of prosciutto in exchange for a few scratches behind the ear.
Zach opened the door.
“Yeah, man, I can’t wait for you to hang out with her back home.”
Zach was talking to Logan, his best friend from high school. He flipped the phone around. “Say hi to my future wife!”