I went to Rome in 2009, and there seems to be a lot that’s the same now. Melanie and I landed two days ago. We’re finally taking our honeymoon, as far as everyone but Judy and Elliot know. We’re staying in a hotel off the Via Del Corso, from what I remember, there was a lot of good shopping here, and I was happy to find that that hasn’t changed.
Melanie is loving it, and we’re making the most of the actual time that we have before I have to sneak up to Lucerne.
Last night, we had dinner in a ristorante in Piazza Navona. I know it’s a front of a honeymoon, but since we’re going to be here a couple of weeks, and I’m giving her a week of real romance, she looked so happy. She keeps wearing sundresses with sandals, and her hair up in a ponytail due to the heat. If I hadn’t already been in love with her, that smile, and those dresses would have done the trick.
“You don’t speak any Italian?” she asked, surprised as we strolled out to breakfast this morning.
“Un poquito,” I said in terrible Spanish, and she laughed. “I took Spanish in school, then I did a little bit of Rosetta Stone in Italian before coming here in 2009.
“You got to study the Rosetta Stone?” The shock that had been in her questions a year or two ago isn’t anymore, but this seemed to catch her off guard.
“It’s a computer program that helps people learn different languages.”
“Yeah, that makes more sense…” I absolutely love her sarcasm.
We went and saw the Pantheon after breakfast. She wanted to come back to the room, and sit in the air conditioning for a few before we go see the Coliseum. We may go to the Vatican tomorrow. I’m sitting on the balcony, looking across at the Spanish Steps in the distance. I can smell trattoria below finishing up the lunch rush.
I told Melanie, that when it’s all said and done, and I’ve saved my family, or failed, and I’m no longer needed, maybe I’d want to retire here. She thinks that sounds very good. I think for now I’ll have to do with visiting as often as I can. Being here with her, it doesn’t feel like I’m 30 years displaced. It feels so perfect.
Elliot and I have forbidden each other from reaching out. We want no record of connection in Europe. If we get caught together, we’re just two acquaintances who ran into each other accidentally. In order to strip away the temptation, we didn’t trade itinerary information. He doesn’t know my hotel, nor I his. It has to be this way.
Michael Christopher Cole 
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