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“Kind of.” Bobby blushes. He pours a cup of coffee for me and one for himself.

What else would the gift be? Bobby is not one for surprises, and I can tell he would’ve rather been invited to join me in Italy instead of just showing up. My heart melts for him. I know the effort that went into flying over here because I was the person in our marriage who made all the plans. I responded to the invitations and put them on the calendar. I bought the gifts and made sure Bobby’s shirts and pants were pressed and his shoes polished. I don’t recall a time when Bobby ever made plans on his own without someone’s input. Evidently, I’m not the only person who is changing.

“Let me explain,” he says. “First, I went to Carrara. But you weren’t there. The building where you live was locked up tight—I couldn’t even get inside the gate to leave a note. So I started asking around, and people on the piazza were very forthcoming. I went into shops and asked questions. They love you. They say that you sit outside and draw. You’re like the town artist.”

“They said that?”

Bobby nods. “I told them it’s your job to draw, but they didn’t seem to think that was true. They think you’re like a Picasso or something.”

“They really said that?”

“They did.” Bobby prepares his coffee with a lot of cream. “A guy in a shop sent me to the café. Signorina LeDonne told me you were in Lake Como. She said she’s your cat sitter?”

“Yeah. I adopted a kitten. Her name is Smokey.”

“You know I’m allergic.”

“I know. But you’re really missing out.”

“I’d only miss out on the hives,” Bobby jokes, before appearing concerned. “Are you crying?”

I dab the corner of my eyes. “I’m just happy. I belong here.”

“You belong in Lake Como, New Jersey. You are one of us, and everybody misses you.”

“That’s funny. I thought no one would miss me.”

“Did you come all the way to Italy to see if you could fit in with new people?”

“Partly. Maybe. I don’t know. Bobby, why are you here?”

“I guess I need to understand what happened to us. All these months later I still don’t get it, and I’m not able to move on until I do.”

“We had a couple of years to sort through everything.”

“It didn’t seem like it to me. I look back on that time, and I just did whatever you wanted me to do because you were in so much pain. Over the past year, I’ve been thinking about it. And I had time to think on the airplane.”

“Did you cry?”

“I came close. I get it. You lose it because you’re trapped in a flying tin can over the Atlantic Ocean. That’s enough to make anyone cry,” Bobby says.

We laugh.

“Jess, I don’t think I tried hard enough. You know, I’m a hard worker. I don’t shy away from it. But when it came to us, I had no clue. I had no idea what to do when the worst happened, and I didn’t know how to comfort you. This has been nagging at me. I don’t want to be that guy. The one who runs away when the going gets tough.”

“I didn’t let you in because I didn’t know how.”

“I should’ve been kinder to you,” Bobby says. “More patient.”

“You were fine. You handled things the way you could. I understand.” I hadn’t given much thought to Bobby’s feelings over the past two years, because I was untangling my own. His pain is just as deep as mine. “I hope you’re seeing people.”

“Nothing serious.” Bobby blushes. “If I did, it was because I tried to get over you.”

Tried?Does this mean he didn’t succeed? We are getting somewhere at long last. Away from Lake Como, New Jersey, we can be honest with each other. This is what it means to get distance. Truth is a pillar of forgiveness. We can’t forgive each other unless we agree why we parted in the first place.

I’m slathering fresh butter on the warmcornettowhen Angelo Strazza enters the dining room. I drop the knife when his eyes meet mine. Angelo frowns when he sees that I’m sitting with Bobby. A look of confusion crosses Angelo’s face.

What is happening here?I think as he strides across the room toward us. Angelo’s expression tells me he’s thinking the same thing.