The Crossroad

Amore Mio

Mattia Romano stood before Gretchen Polanski, a passive look on his handsome face. But his large hands gripped her tiny waist before the pressure lessened, only for him to start the process again. Her own hands, small and dainty, lay on his expensive silk shirt, a Luigi Borrelli if she wasn't mistaken.

The Italian businessman had been nothing but kind since they'd met two years ago. He wooed the heartbroken Gretchen and earned her respect—but not her love. They both knew it, but even so, a hopeful Mattia had proposed. Tonight was the engagement party where the rich had come to pay homage to the happy couple. Gretchen stood there in body but not in spirit.

The dark-haired beauty had begged her parents to let her attend the public high school as a means of escaping the rich, snotty-nosed kids she'd known all her life. Four years in the hallowed halls of Newburgh prevented Gretchen from turning into an entitled horror like so many of her counterparts.

After graduation, she had obeyed her father's orders and broken up with Greg Hickson, the man she'd loved since stepping foot in Newburgh. The school had assigned the blond football player as her student buddy. Greg had been delighted with the arrangement. 

For four glorious years, Greg had been her everything.

But her parents had ruined it all.

"He's not one of us. Greg Hickson is a bougie." Her mother, Doris, said his name with disdain as she poured their afternoon tea. "He only wants your money."

Gretchen had frowned. "So what if he's middle-class? He's good to me, and I love him!"

Her father, Richard Polanski, picked up a morsel of caviar on a blini. "Nevertheless, you will end the relationship at once. You're eighteen now. It's time you took your rightful place in society."

Gretchen stood up—fist clenched and tears in her eyes. "And if I don't?"

"I will disinherit you and kick you out with nothing but the clothes on your back. And only that if you're lucky," came the steely reply.

Gretchen, a child with no skills or motivation, knew she could not survive on her own. Greg had agreed but swore he'd one day come for her.

It was a promise the big blond had kept—right before the engagement party.

"Mattia, I'm so sorry." Gretchen pulled her mind back from her woolgathering of the past. "You deserve better than me." She gazed down at the costly black dress he'd gifted her and felt even worse.

Mattia released her waist and captured her hand, bringing it to his full lips. "Amore mio, I've tried my best to win your heart. But I failed." He kissed her hand. "Neither Greg nor I are good enough for you."

Her teary gray eyes met his dark ones. "I tried to love you as much as you loved me."

He released her hand and sighed. "Sì, you tried. I appreciate that."

Gretchen lifted a hand to remove the diamond engagement ring, but Mattia shook his head.

"Keep it as a memento of what could have been." He stepped back, slipping his hands into the pockets of his cashmere suit. Mattia smiled when her hand fell to her side. "You plan to sneak away from the party now?"

"Yes, Greg is waiting for me downstairs. I managed to pack two suitcases and get them to him."

Mattia nodded. "I will cover for you as long as possible. Your father will disinherit you."

Gretchen smiled. "Greg works at a bank. We'll make do."

"If I ever get another chance, I will take it, amore mio."

She stepped toward him. The kiss they shared tasted of broken promises and lost dreams. Gretchen pulled away, slipping out of his arms—then out of his life.

A week after she'd left the party, Gretchen knew she'd made a mistake. She realized too late that she truly loved Mattia. She missed him. But there was no going back with her parents disinheriting and disowning her. Greg had been the epitome of kindness, doing his best to boost her spirits. She owed him a chance.

"Don't worry, babe. When you're pregnant, your parents will cave. We'll be rolling in dough!" said Greg.

"Money?" Gretchen frowned. "We just got married. I don't want kids yet!"

Greg had had his way. He'd sabotaged her birth control, and she'd become pregnant. But even that hadn't softened her parents' hearts. Gretchen then learned her mother was right. Greg had only wanted her for the money. Without it, she was useless to him. The verbal arguements and cheating had only gotten worse with time. But when he'd begun shouting at two-year-old Rocco, Gretchen had packed their bags—and left.

The studio apartment on the seedier side of town was all she could afford. Gretchen worked nights cleaning offices—the only job that let her take little Rocco with her. 

That night, she began mopping the boardroom floor when someone called her name.

"Gretchen?"

She knew the voice. Shaken, Gretchen turned to face her former fiancé. "Mattia." He reeked of expensive food and fancy cologne. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my building."

Gretchen, a wisp of her former self, nodded as the mop fell from stiff fingers. "I see."

He pointed to the sleeping child propped on a chair. "Yours?"

"Yes. Mom was right about Greg. At least I saved my son from him." Her head bowed. "It was good seeing you. Take care, Mattia."

She went for the mop, but Mattia grabbed her hand. "Let's get you and the bambino a proper meal—"

Gretchen pulled away, whispering, "You deserve—"

Mattia kept hold of her hand. "I repeat, if I ever get another chance, I'm taking it... amore mio, my love."

 He gazed at her, hopeful. Gretchen couldn't hide the love in her eyes as she looked at him.

She fell into Mattia's arms—and wept.