Elliot leans close to my face, looking at me seriously, then raises his hands in a sudden panic, wiping away my tears. He keeps coaxing, "Don't cry... don't cry... please don't cry..."
But my tears can't be stopped at all.
In my sight, there are only shimmering white tears. Elliot appears fragmented in the tears, but slowly piecing back together.
I put my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder as I cry, "Elliot, you're such a jerk! I've never met anyone as terrible as you in my life!"
"I'm sorry," his voice is hoarse.
I cry even louder, hugging him tighter, "You're a jerk, and yet, I still like you."
Elliot's body stiffened for a moment.
The next second, he suddenly realized, held my face in his hands, imprinting wild kisses all over.
From my forehead to my eyebrows, then my nose and cheeks.
He kisses me while excitedly saying, "Macy, thank you! Thank you!"
I made a token effort to struggle, but in the end, I surrendered to his warm embrace.
I thought to myself, how could Elliot truly fall in love with someone?
But then again, I thought, maybe this time, he's serious.
His embrace is so warm.
"Elliot, let's try again." After a long while, I say softly, "This is the last time."
"Okay," he says, licking away my tears like a puppy and giving a soft kiss on my eyelid. "This time, I'll treat you well."
He is extremely tired, breathing heavily, and can't keep his eyes open anymore.
I help him lie down, cover him with a blanket, and turn off the bedside lamp.
Goodnight, I say in my heart.
In the darkness, he still holds my arm tightly, repeating the last thing he said in a low voice.
Elliot slept for a long time. From the time I sent Oliver to school until he came back home with his backpack.
"Mom, don't you have something to tell me?" In the kitchen, Oliver leans against the fridge while peeling candy and looks at me with a smile.
I push him aside and take out vegetables and meat from the fridge, blinking my eyes, "I've told you many times not to eat snacks before meals. If you can't finish dinner later, you're in big trouble."
Oliver puts away his smile and carefully puts the candy back where it was. Then he says, "I heard noises last night, it was Elliot, right?"
I'm washing vegetables and let out a soft sigh.
"So, Elliot is bothering you again! Have you rekindled your old flame?!"
I almost choked on my own saliva. Where did this kid learn the term "rekindle the old flame"? I should check what extracurricular books he's been reading.
"What exactly is going on? Tell me!"
I turn around and fetch a stool, and ask Oliver to stand on it to help me wash the vegetables.
But clearly, it can't shut him up.
Oliver's tone is almost pleading, "Mom, tell me."
I cross my arms and lean against the cold wall, "Call him dad."
"Huh?" A piece of vegetable slips from Oliver's hand and falls into the sink.
"In the hospital, I overheard your conversation," I shrug, "I know you know he's your dad."
After a while.
"Mom, you're not doing this because of me, are you?"
"No," I shake my head.
"Thank God," Oliver observes my expression for a few more seconds and then breathes a sigh of relief, "If you two want to get back together, it should be because your feelings have improved. I don't want you to do anything just for the sake of having a complete family because of me."
I'm taken aback for a moment, suddenly feeling touched, even deciding to forgive him for reading those extracurricular books.
After sleeping for a full 20 hours, Elliot was taken away by his secretary. He has a lot of work and needs to fly all over the world.
Wearing an open robe, he pressed me against the bathroom wall for a kiss before he left.
But I completely ignored his Adam's apple, rosy lips, and toned chest.
"I'm leaving, won't you give me a kiss?" Elliott asked sadly.
The next second, I pinched his arm with my nails, leaving a faint pink crescent mark.
"I'm just saying we can start over, not that we're familiar enough to kiss."
After a long time, Elliott finally realized and smiled slightly.
A few days later, on a Saturday morning, Elliot calls me in a soft voice, "Macy, let's go on a date. There's an organic farm outside Florence where we can play with geese, catch lambs, walk chickens, and even ride horses. Shall we go together?"
I look at the figure playing with LEGO in the living room, "What about Oliver?"
"Threw Oliver at my secretary," Elliot says, "The person I'm pursuing is you, Macy, not Oliver's mother."
His guilt-free tone amused me.
What a kind father.
"Macy, are you going or not? I sincerely invite you!"
I laughed and agreed.
The family farm turns out to be quite large with diverse landscapes, and as Elliot said, the food is delicious too.
But I didn't expect to encounter an acquaintance here.
A client of our company.
She is here with her boyfriend. Out of politeness, I exchanged some pleasantries with her, but she turned out to be enthusiastic, turning our date into a double date.
The guys handle the barbecue, while we two girls wash fruits and take photos.
In the afternoon, it rains cats and dogs, and the temperature drops suddenly. We gather in the living room to play bridge.
The background music is from the projector, playing "La vita è bella." There's also a lively little puppy by our feet, barking at any slight noise.
After the round, I feel thirsty and go to the kitchen to get some water.
The door opens silently, and I can tell it's Elliot.
"What's wrong?"
His hands directly wrap around my waist, and his slightly warm cheek buries into my shoulder. Then, he sighs deeply.
"I haven't had any time alone with you today," Elliot complains softly.
I ignore him and pour some water. Then, I turn around and lift the cup to his lips.
"I'm not thristy," Elliot shakes his head.
I end up drinking it myself.
But the next moment, I'm taken aback. As I lifted the cup, Elliot quickly leaned in and pecked my ear.
"You——you——"
My face instantly turns hot, and I push open the kitchen door and run away.
Yet, I can still hear Elliot's laughter from behind.
In the evening, we said goodbye to the other couple and left the farm.
Elliot drives me home.
By the time we got to my door, the rain has stopped.
One of Elliot's hands rests on the steering wheel, and the other holds a thin bill, shaking it as if it's a big gold bill, "I won twenty euros today, how about I treat you to gelato?"
He amused me again.
After the rain in Florence, the sky is painted with a colorful sunset, like spilled paint not yet dried by the sun. We slowly walk in the ancient alleyways, watching a distant fountain perform its last water spray before sunset.
People hurry by, but we're not in a rush.
"We have countless time to waste." Elliot says.
Thanks Elliot.
Because later, on our way back home, it starts raining again. The sky is already dark, and the dense rain curtain envelops the towering buildings, hazy lights, and pedestrians returning home.
We ran for a while without an umbrella, and the rain got heavier and heavier, so we went to an old telephone booth nearby to take shelter.
It is still raining heavily outside the phone booth, and water droplets slide down the glass, leaving traces.
There is very little space inside the booth and we were huddled together, toes touching, close together.
The rain grows louder, and my nose is filled with the thick smell of moisture.
At this moment, Elliot looks at the abandoned receiver next to me and says softly, "Have you ever seen an old movie, 'Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure'?"
The name sounds familiar, but I can't recall the specific plot.
Elliot continues, "The protagonist discovered a phone booth that can travel through time."
The next moment, I see Elliot pick up the receiver.
He says to me, "Now, I'm calling you."
I froze for a moment.
"35-year-old Elliot is saying, 'I love you.'"
"And, 24-year-old Elliot said, 'I really like you. I want to apologize to you.'"
I was only 17 then.
That's when my nightmare began.
This radio wave, like a ghost, lingers on the ground, and now it finally reached its destination through this completely unconnected phone.
I widen my eyes, and after a long while, I lower my eyelids.
After an even longer while, I whisper, "I don't remember anything."
I lied.
How could I forget? Those hurtful words, those forced actions, my body has become a sieve, full of holes.
But we agreed to start anew.
Forgiveness is the choice of love.
Outside the window, the rows of trees are silent in the night, and the sound of water flows gently and steadily.
At this moment, I tiptoe and lean closer to his face.