Nostalgia

C h a p t e r | 02

Oh baby, look what you started
The temperature's rising in here
Is this gonna happen?
Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move
Before I make a move.

~ Into You, Ariana Grande

Three days pass, and no sign of Mr. Stranger. Every time I left my apartment, or a new costumer arrived, I hoped to see him. But I was disappointed.

I held on to that one interaction, replaying it over and over again because that was the most exciting thing to have happened to me in a long time. My mind was in a haze, wrapped up in visions of warm, carbon eyes that made my heart flutter and my stomach drop.

I was getting red in the face just thinking about him. Who was this guy?

Stop! Enough of this shyness. Next time I'll meet him, I'm going to be the confident and independent woman I always wanted to be. Right?

I'm standing at my mailbox when I hear foot steps approaching from behind.

"Buon giorno."

I turn around, my back leaned against the mailbox, when I saw him.

He was wearing a dark grey blazer over a black turtleneck sweater. His hair fell lazily over his face. I never knew a turtleneck sweater could be so sexy.

"C-ciao."

"Matilda..."

The way he says my name, sends a shiver down my spine.

"I knew I saw you before. You were the one standing at the window. "

"And you were looking into my window, seems suspicious to me."

"So you didn't only stalk me from the window, now you're also giving me the fault."

"I wasn't stalking you! I was just making sure you're not some serial killer."

"And to what conclusion did you come?"

"Let's see what the profile is...Male, white, in your mid twenties, you like vintage cars..."

I take a closer look on the magazines under his arm, "...and you're into fashion."

"Does that make me a serial killer?"

"Maybe? The fashion world can be cruel."

A small, dark laugh escapes his lips, while he stares at me curiously.

"I can't figure you out yet. You didn't even introduce yourself."

"I'm Adriano, Adriano Moretti."

"Sounds fake to me."

Actually it sounds like the kind of name you would never forget, the one that could change your life.

"How do you explain this?"

He's slowly approaching me, closing the gap between us, never breaking eye contact. After what seemed an eternity, he points to the name on his mailbox left to me.

I turn around ro read the name tag, feeling his breath on my face.

"You could have murdered the real Adriano Moretti, and then taken his place."

"I'm starting to think that you're the serial killer, with all your knowledge about murder cases. That's kind of hot.", he replies with his tongue in his cheek.

"Being butchered and thrown into the Tevere sounds like a dream date to you? Does your therapist know?"

His stare wanders to the ground, and his jaw tenses up.

With a serious tone he says, "My therapist knows more than enough."

After he empties his mailbox, he gives me one last, cryptical look, and vanishes into his apartment.

•••••

"A Cappuccino and an Espresso."

"Is it coretto?"

"I'm sorry, I forgot the liquor."

I go back to the bar and add a small shot of Grappa. Under the stern look of Rita, I serve the cafè corretto.

"What is it with you this week? Get your head out of the clouds!"

I hate when she scolds me in front of costumers, but she's right. I'm with my mind somewhere else.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"Did you call your university like I told you?"

"No, I didn't.", I reply while cleaning the counter top.

"Tilly, look at me. You can't go on like this. Your grandma's death was two years ago. Try to get back to your normal life. Start to study again."

"It's just...it's too soon, I'm not ready yet."

"Your grandma, and I'm sure even your parents would want to see you happy."

I sigh and then go and hug her tightly even if she tries to push me away theatrically.

"Stop hiding in here and live a little. Do what young people do. Even I have more action in my life and I'm 58."

"Thank you for being you."

"Show me your gratitude and clean these tables over there."

When I finished cleaning, Marco who sat on one table nearby grabs me by my arm and whispers, "How did it go with your new neighbour?"

I take a quick glance to Rita who was busy talking to a regular costumer, when I sat down and whisper back,
"He's a walking enigma. Why did he move here? Who was that man on the picture and why is he searching for him?"

"Did you think about asking him?"

"Every conversation we have ends with him leaving and me second guessing everything I told him. He's so frustrating."

"You know that I'm a judge, and I could investigate about him."

"Thank you, it really means a lot, but I'd rather hear his story from himself. And to be honest, it's kind of exciting."

"Okay, but if he hurts you, I'm going to throw him into the worst jail of Italy."

I nudge him smiling and walk over to take the next order.

•••••

Back home after my evening Yoga class, I find a pair of black stilettos in front of Adriano's door.

"He didn't waste time, huh?", I snort.

For a split second I contemplate to eavesdrop, but quickly decide against it. I'm not that desperate.

I'm fumbling at my front door, when my keys fall to the ground.

"Come on, not after a Yoga class."

I bend down to grab my keys, when his door opens.

•••••

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