Free Frame-Up by Gian Bordin

it when
I came with Gary.
    "A drink at the bar first, Cecilia?" he asks in Italian, guiding me
toward it. "The usual Barbaresco?"
    I nod. "Yes, I need it."
    "Alone?" he questions, when he returns with two glasses, one for me,
the other for himself.
    "Yes, Silvio, alone. You may woo me now to your heart’s content."
    He responds with a laugh. "Your boyfriend — or is it ex-boyfriend? —
he was here the other day … with a buxom blonde, or rather yellow-haired broad."
    That didn’t take Gary long . Still, it feels like a stab in the side, but
passes quickly. "Yes, he is a fast mover."
    "What happened?" He adds quickly: "You don’t have to tell me if
you’d rather not talk about it."
    "Oh, it’s a long story, Silvio. Let’s see … a story in five acts. I was
first accused of fraud, then fired, next questioned by the police, then
dumped by Gary because I refused to perjure myself, and finally today
the police searched my apartment and took away my laptop. That’s it in
very few words." My flippancy surprises me.
    "That can’t be true! Fraud? You?"
    "Not me, no, but I think I’ve been framed."
    He puts his hand on mine. I don’t remove mine. His face tells me that
he feels for me.
    "Look. Cecilia, you were wasted on Gary. He didn’t deserve you."
    "Yes, I’ve come to that conclusion too."
    "Good. That’s the spirit." A warm smile lights up his face. "And what
are you going to do now?"
    "What can I do but wait? Wait for the police to drop the case for lack
of evidence."
    "But right now, Cecilia, you need to celebrate with a good meal."
    "Celebrate?"
    "Yes, celebrate ‘good riddance’. Come, your usual table is free."
    I take the glass and follow.
    "The meal is on me, bella ."
    "Thank you, Silvio, but you don’t have to do this."
    "But I want to. I think that you need right now is to be spoiled a bit,
and I want to be the one doing the spoiling. I may join you later. And I’ll
order for you. I know exactly what. You’ll love me for it … at least I
hope you will."
    It is one of the best meals ever. He joins me whenever he can make
himself free, even shares some of the dishes and the selection of wines.
He wants to know details about the events.
    By eleven thirty, we are the only two people left. He closes up and
offers to drive me home. When I protest, he says: "I want to make sure
you get home safely."
    Near my building, he gets out of the car and accompanies me to the
entrance. Does he hope for more , I wonder? I’m usually not the type who
jumps into bed quickly. It has to feel right, and this seems rather fast, but
I say nothing. In fact, I don’t know what my answer would be if he asks
to come up.
    He doesn’t. His lips briefly brush mine, and then he locks eyes with
me. His are almost black with a deep, mysterious smile. He kisses me a
second time with more fire and says: " Ciao bella , I enjoyed this evening."
Then he turns and goes back to his car. I watch. Confused? Disappointed?
I can’t tell which.
     
     
    Saturday, 25 th October, 8:35 a.m.
     
    Saturday, another weekend. I sleep in. When I wake, something feels
different. Something is missing, and then it comes to me. Gary isn’t in
bed next to me as on most Saturday mornings. He dumped you, a voice
in my head reminds me. Two years simply drained away like from a
ruptured flask, with nothing to show but empty feelings. I shake my head
as if this could banish the hurt. Ruminating on it won’t change a thing, the
voice admonishes.
     I force my mind on today. There is no housework, nor do I have any
plans for the weekend. That feels even stranger. I stretch my limbs and
moan with pleasure. My thoughts return to last night. I enjoyed myself
thoroughly. It wasn’t just the food, but also the company. There was a
complete absence of stress, of unspoken expectations. I could be myself.
I didn’t have to choose my words carefully, as it now seems to have been
the case with Gary lately. Maybe it is because we spoke Italian.
    I wonder if Silvio will