When the fear of isolation pulls Ashton and Ria together, nothing can prepare them for the collision. An anomaly shatters the repetitive fabric of their lives, sending them on a journey of discovering themselves and one another.
Beneath Ashton's gen...
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RIA WATCHES HER BOYFRIEND pace around the kitchenette mumbling insecure thoughts and inquiries. She reaches out as he brushes past her. "Ash-"
"What if they expect more from me? What if they don't approve of me? Don't think that I can provide for you? I think I can provide... I mean, you can also provide for yourself. I just like to be there for you."
"Ash, calm down." She touches his arm, stopping his restless pacing.
"You said your dad doesn't trust Americans, right? Look at me?" He throws his arms out, gesturing to his light, blue button down - for once, the first few buttons aren't released - and black slacks. "I'm your basic American."
"You're not a basic American." She strokes his cheek, guiding his gaze to hers. "You're so much more. Everything about you is sweet, charming and brilliant. Just be normal and my father will accept you. I promise."
Ashton's blue eyes rest on hers with doubt riddled in the essence. "If your father grills me, promise you'll have my back."
"I'll always have your back." She reassures him with the gentlest of smiles.
His broad shoulders loosen and he nods. "Thank you."
Only, when a knock comes to the door, Ashton's face loses color. His hands fly out to stop her from leaving, but she's already at the door welcoming her parents.
"Buon compleanno!" her mother exclaims happy birthday and throws her arms around Ria before she can crack a smile. "I've missed you so much, bebe. How. Have. You. Been?" With every word she squeals, her mother squeezes the life out of her.
"I'm great, Mama." Ria giggles and returns the embrace. "It's so good to see you."
"Don't kill the poor girl," her father grumbles, pulling Gianna away.
It takes a moment for Ria to catch her breath, but when she finally takes a step back to look up at her parents, thrills are rushing through her veins. She pulls them into a hug and mumbles, "I've missed you guys. I'm so glad you're here."
There's so much you don't know.
They carry the familiar scent of home, igniting memories of days back in Italy. Days when her mama would take her around town and let her take pictures of the scenery or sketch people for hours. Nights her papà would come home from work and bring her a new book or film to love.
Gianna's hair still falls down her back in delicate, dark, brown waves. Though time has spread thin strands of grey throughout her curls. Her hazel eyes sparkle, reminding Ria of her own. As a child, she always admired her mother's beauty, hoping she'd look more like her as she got older.
