Timewreck

Chapter 1

- ...I wanted mom to give me the goodnight basin too...
- Mom is very tired, Riccardo... You know she's already been sleeping since...
I looked at the screen on the wall next to Riccardo's bed and made a quick calculation.
- ...for two and a half hours.
- Yes, Dad, but I... wanted to tell her that I love her...
- She does too, so much... and me too... Now sleep, come on, since we were up till late last night as well...
- Yes, Dad... - he added, his voice lower and more resigned.

I turned away from my son's bed and whispered a command to the computer, turning off the light in his room. I could have switched it off from the terminal in our bedroom too, but in that moment I needed to check if the system’s voice recognition still worked correctly, after latest changes. I also had to check if the camera was still operational...
I returned slowly to my studio and for first I picked up the toys and microchips that my child always left around, then I switched the monitor to the camera that supervised his room and went back to work.
I wanted to complete my rewriting of an old program in that innovative language recently developed, and I also wanted to make a couple of changes to the software that ran our house... only problem, I never had the time: when Riccardo was with me I got lost with him, I let myself get carried away by his ideas, by his thousand questions... and I enjoyed explaining anything to him.
More than two hours went by... in fact, three actually... At one point I also went and woke up our cat, who was sleeping in the kitchen, with the excuse of giving him some treats... and then, finally, I went to our bedroom.

Cristina had actually been sleeping for several hours already: I saw her lying in the middle of our bed, where she regularly came to find herself after regularly lying on the right mattress...
I changed my clothes quickly, but before going to the bathroom I couldn’t resist giving her a kiss on her forehead: she was so tender... and I used to have so much fun waking her up a few minutes before lying in bed at her side. And I loved to see that she was immediately waking up, and tried to grasp my hand, as if to keep me from going away... and then, not being able to, she mumbled something... but, luckily, she never remembered about that, the morning after.

Cristina and I had been married for seven years now, and our son Riccardo was almost five.
For some time now, Riccardo used to be up late to watch me work. He was very interested in everything I did: obviously, since he was a boy, and having always lived among computers all those objects that were part of my work, he had learned to be attracted to them.
So, as I was often out for work during the day, at one point he insisted on staying with me in the evening, and he never wanted to go to sleep...
When he was younger he tried to imitate me, he started talking to the computer trying to get from it what he usually asked me and Cristina: luckily the system was programmed to ignore that voice... Then he tried to give commands on the touch-screens of the rooms, and in those cases the only thing that saved us was the absolute incongruity of the keys that he was pressing! How many times Cristina had to pull him down from the stools or chairs on which Riccardo used to climb in an attempt to get the computer's attention...
He had grown up now. It seemed absurd that we could say something similar about a five-years-old, yet when he sat at my side, in front of his desk, he used that old mouse with a speed that I had rarely seen in my almost twenty years of work. And he had an impressive amount of ideas... He gathered real and virtual objects in thousands and thousands of combinations, he imagined creating microchips suitable for doing tasks never thought before... and the only negative note was that those applications could only serve a child’s world! But soon he’d start attending school, and he would grow up.
"You can stay up with Dad, but try not to be too late," Cristina had replied, when he asked her if he could work with me, as he used to say. My wife had responded to me and him at one time. And I tried to please both of them.
"Mom, why don't you stay with us too?" Riccardo often asked her.
But Cristina didn't feel like.
She had given all of herself in the early years of our son's life, and now she preferred to leave me the honour of spending evenings with him.
She was a beautiful thirty-eight-years-old woman... she didn't look any older nor younger than that, but her eyes were full of love... full of everything she was inside, of all the good she had always done for her friends, for her family and for me.
For no reason would I let her get tired further, after what she did for me and our son during the day.

I gave a last look at the image coming from our son's room, to make sure he was sleeping, and then I lay down in bed.
As always, she whispered something feeling me close to her again, then hugged me and, without opening her eyes...
- Is Riccardo sleeping?
I answered positively, embracing her in turn... actually I could not, I had never been able to sleep if a girl pushed me to her... so, after a while... the time she needed to fall asleep again... the time to tell her that I loved her as always... more than anything else in the world... I moved away from that hug and wished her good night.

And yet... it was funny to tell, but at some point in my life having a child had become more important than any love story, than any person I loved, even more than Cristina herself.

But it wasn't me who’d decided it. Destiny had appeared to me in its full strength one spring day in 1999.

Chapter 2

- I liked it quite much...
- Thank you, Cristina... but maybe its tone is a bit too dark... indeed, it could be called blue...
- I like all the things you wrote... How did you say, blue?
- Yeah, I mean, I was joking... I meant to say that the protagonist of that story really looks like a loser... I think I exaggerated with sentimentality...
- But why? ...it's very romantic, and I find the way you tell those situations is really... deep.
- Very feminine, you mean...
- Ugh... let's not start with this story again, Gianluca. You are not feminine, you just have some sensibility that just few boys and, I stress, few girls, have. I wish I had your ability to narrate, to remember...

We had met in 1994. At least this is what I used to say when Cristina asked me how long we had known each other... "You know we don't have good memory for dates...", she often said.
Cristina and Alberto had been playing tennis for several years, and I had come to know them through a girl, my ex... with whom sometimes I still used to meet, despite having given up...
I loved tennis. I had played it, or rather, had tried to play it a few years before, but without much success. But I really liked it: it was one of the few sports that I used to follow on television, and I knew the rules, the major world champions...
It hadn't been such an unusual thing, in fact, to get to know a couple who played tennis regularly two and even three times a week. But will it have been because of the presence of Cecilia, my ex, or for the sympathy that spontaneously struck between me and the two of them, we started to meet regularly.
And Cecilia offered herself with enthusiasm to be the fourth of a group that soon became the most regular mixed-double at the fields on the banks of the river Po. It wasn’t clear to me why she did it... It had been almost two years since we had parted... Yes, we often rang us on the phone, both me and her wanted to spend a few evenings telling ourselves how things were going... but neither I nor she had ever meant to start over again...
I used to believe that she liked Alberto. It reinforced my theory that she had immediately asked me if I liked his girlfriend Cristina.
What could I say... She wasn’t very tall... normal, let’s say... she used to dress in an anonymous way, almost masculine... except on big occasions, when she became really noteworthy (a typical strategy, I would’ve said). She had brown hair and eyes, which contrasted with Alberto's light eyes: he was a little taller than her, thin, sporty...
- Well, of course she's pretty... - I usually answered, staring into her eyes just to check if she wanted me to compare her. And immediately afterwards I started decanting her playing ability, her physique and above all her breasts... I wanted to understand if this would make her jealous. But, realizing that this wasn’t happening, I then had the idea that she simply wanted to make me into an accomplice of hers, bringing me closer to Cristina and herself to her boyfriend.

And the two of them were extremely available.
We had known each other for so little, and they had already invited us to their home for dinner... to be precise at Alberto's house. We met their circle of friends, with whom we spent several summer evenings after tennis matches. In the weekends they often went to Cristina's parents' country house, and they invited me and Cecilia to go there too...
Actually, after some time Cecilia moved away from my life again.
I don't think that Alberto or above all Cristina have ever suspected Cecilia's second ends... and besides, I never even had a concrete proof of it.
However, our friendship continued to grow.
Alberto was studying at the Polytechnic, at that time, and he found himself increasingly using computers and programs that sounded Arabic to him, and Cristina was also starting to use them for her degree... And I realized that the least I could do for returning all their availability was helping them.
I freed Alberto's mind from a whole bunch of silly theories about computers that had been instilled into him by advertising and by the classic computer-expert acquaintances; I explained him which, according to my knowledge, were the programs and expansions that could be used by a guy who used a PC at home, occasionally as a work tool and more often as a videogame console. And then I initiated both to Internet: it was pretty hard to get Cristina's head into a whole series of rather sophisticated concepts for those who were generic beginners with computers... but the dedication and simplicity with which she applied, did in any case ensure that the arduous task was always fun.
It was precisely by working with Internet that Alberto and Cristina discovered my modest skills as a writer... No, they would’ve never used that term: sometimes more, sometimes less, they always complimented me on what I was writing.

- ...by the way, is this story also inspired by something that actually happened? If so, it's something I don't know, right? - continued Cristina.
- Eh? No, no... this is mostly invented. Let's say that it is based on some images and ideas that I had in mind in the past few months... in the last two years, more or less... But there are no links to real things, if not sporadic...
- Little by little we'll get to know your life really well, thanks to your stories...
- Well, I too feel like I was really together with you, by listening to the stories you tell...
- Yes... sure, but the difference is that you write them!
- Well, it's not very different. In fact, I think I should make a leap in quality by going on to invent stories from scratch...
- Maybe... well, we’re confident...

One feature that had literally blown away both Cristina and Alberto had been my ability to remember situations, phrases, songs related to certain periods of our lives... sure, we were practically the same age: Alberto was a little younger than me and Cristina a bit older.
We often talked about music, songs and their authors... they introduced me to a friend of theirs who they believed to have a lot in common with me, because he knew exactly what year a certain song came out or a certain movie... Needless to say that Fausto (as this guy was named) and me didn’t find ourselves nice at all!

* * *

Within a few months Alberto had become one of my best friends.
I kept telling him and myself that I should introduce him to my co-workers, because I was thinking he’d have been very happy with them and we could all have built great things together.
He was about to graduate in electronic engineering... it was perfect, he'd have been the "graduate", to put it in English, that we lacked in our small company.
He too wanted to build something of his own... he was fascinated by the way I used to talk about my work, on certain occasions I had the impression that he overestimated me...
- Look, these things can be done by everyone here... - I used to tell him - it's just a matter of practising...
- You're saying that... you're too modest! I don't know anyone who runs on that keyboard as fast as you do...

Those were the times when we were still working with keyboards and cathode ray tube monitors... I, together with my partners, had founded a small company dedicated to automation: we were among the pioneers of home automation, among the first to own a home where the computer welcomed you, when you returned home, before the dog or cat.
Giulio and Claudio were the electric and mechanic in our group, respectively.
- But how is it, the relationships among you all? Don't you ever fight? - Alberto often asked me, quoting stories from some of his companions or former comrades from the university who had tried to found companies and had soon encountered various practical problems.
- I'll tell you... I think our main advantage lies in autonomy: each of us deals with a certain side: computer science, electronics, mechanics... everyone has his own tasks, his suppliers, his part of the project... we think we are all substantially honest, each with his peculiarities, each with his own reasons and dose of stubbornness, but also of good will to solve problems...
Alberto looked at me admired.
- And... how’bout customers, jobs... can you find them?
It was a curious question, coming from him.
For what I had managed to understand, he didn't need to work: his parents were pretty wealthy and he could have very well been a consultant... like, the classic useless consultant, who works three hours a day and earns a fabulous salary.
He had no need to aspire to a job like mine... like ours, where you often had to get up early on Saturday morning... In my eyes he had to do nothing but get his degree, then get married with Cristina and live the life that he deserved.
Yet he wasn't that kind of person.
It even seemed to be paradoxical, but he was as insecure and in a state of adoration towards me as confident and determined he seemed to be with his girlfriend.

They had been dating for six years when I met them.
I had always been struck by the fact that all the sweetness they both had in addressing me seemed to disappear when they were speaking to each other or with their older friends.
- Do you remember when we used to watch porn tapes at Roberto's house?
- Yeah... fantastic... Roberto with his finger ready on the switch in case his mother came back sooner...
And... at the dinners to which they invited me with their friends... bowls of mayonnaise and chicken bones soon flew, thrown from one side to the other of the table.
Not to mention the way Alberto and his friends (boys) turned to Cristina...
- At eighteen I would have fucked you like...
Let’s skip the rest, since it doesn’t deserve any mention!
When I heard these sentences, I was frightened... they had the power to evoke inside me a whole series of conflicting feelings.
I felt in solidarity with Cristina, or rather with the part of Cristina to whom I had become attached... almost like a female friend of hers! I would have never talked to my girlfriend like this... I would not have let others do it... And, as far as Alberto was concerned, it scared me that I had gotten so close to someone who could change his character so quickly.
- Yes, he changes a lot depending on the people he is with... - Cristina said.
- Yeah, I can see it... - I answered, unconvinced.
- But he's not a bad guy... - she replied.
- No, of course not... It's just that I wouldn't behave like that... - I replied, and I was ashamed to tell her that I wouldn't behave like that with her, because it looked like I was looking for a confrontation with her boyfriend. Then I threw the dispute on another key, which became my strong point as I spent a long time alone, without a girlfriend.
- …you know what? I think I'm not a man like I should be... I'm not tough enough, trivial enough... I'm a failed woman!
And Cristina used to get mad at me. She insulted me, told me I was stupid to think about those things.
- It's just a matter of time, and you'll find the right person too...
- Even if I write those things in my stories? - I asked her jokingly.
- Mmmh, Gianluca, stop it!
I couldn't understand how she could think those things about me, tell me all those compliments and then go around with people who seemed to be at my antipodes. Nor did I understand how Alberto could be such a positive person when we met to work on computers, and become such a boo in other situations.

Chapter 3

Several years had gone since that meeting...
I had met so many more people and many further groups of friends and many other girls, but Alberto and Cristina had remained firmly in the upper part of my circle of friends.
Work proceeded normally, my partners and I were continuing to take care of sectors which mostly suited us. I hadn’t had yet many opportunities to involve Alberto in my job, except for a couple of researches we had done together at the library in his University.
For the rest... in our young lives there wasn’t much else: evenings out, pubs, discos, the typical short love story... the usual pizza on Sunday evening...
I still didn't have a stable girlfriend. And I often talked about it with Cristina...
It had happened especially the year when I had gone on holidays with them... It all had happened in a somewhat daring manner, in fact, that year... and it could be summarized in an image of our return journey: as we were queuing on Alberto's car to get on the return ship, he and Cristina had gotten off to buy cigarettes and at that moment the ship had started to load cars. In a moment I panicked: I had never driven a car onto a ferry, and I didn't want to leave the meeting point where they knew they would find me. But I had to go, necessarily... So I got on the car, put it in motion, joined the group... I felt so guilty, driving their car, on their vacation, fearing to have him get struck when, coming back, they wouldn’t have found me... Fortunately, then, everything had been solved for good.
They had invited me to go to Sardinia with them and another couple and other friends from the seaside. I had accepted the invitation, even though I knew I would not have been much of a companion, as I had just had a burning disappointment in love with a girl I cared about a lot.
"That girl doesn't deserve you...", Cristina had always told me, and Alberto agreed with her.
"You know, sometimes I am surprised that you and Alberto have all this high esteem for me..." I used to reply to Cristina, who smiled.
At that time both of them had tried to cheer me up...
I had been really sick, in that year, and if I had even enjoyed myself a little on that vacation I owed it to them... Too much, actually: I had been quite afraid that in my mood I could misunderstand all the affection Cristina gave me and end up taking a crush on her.
Luckily this hadn't happened: I didn't want to lose either of them, I didn't want to do anyone any harm. So the holidays passed, we returned to Turin and I felt a little better, and life resumed as usual.

After a while, I decided to go and live on my own.
I talked about it with Alberto and Cristina who, with their usual kindness, offered to give me a hand for everything I needed.
A little intimidated by the complexity of buying a house, I asked my two partners to come with me when the preliminary act was signed: since, for a particularly case of bad luck neither of them had the chance to be present, I tried to ask Alberto and he, with great willingness, offered himself for that task.
- He looked like a good person, the one you bought the flat from... You know, Cristina and I have to start looking for a house too...
- It's almost time! - I replied, with a smile.
- Heh... I know, but you know how it is, first the degree, then a job, then marriage... Lucky you who’s already settling down...
There was a time when those words would hurt me. How could I be lucky or blessed, just because I had a job and I was going to have a house of my own, if other people had the happiness of a relationship... which I lacked?
In fact, after all those years spent with the moral support of my two friends, I had stopped making those kinds of considerations. If by chance I felt a bit down, I went out one evening with them and could feel better right away. Sometimes I found myself confiding in Cristina, when I thought they were more personal matters... other times we met with all the other friends and then the three of us talked about our projects, the things that made us happy, what we thought it was right and what seemed wrong to us.
I believe that the fact that all of us had different political ideas from each other, helped us to make long, very constructive discussions: we all saw the same problems in the world around us, but everyone had a different recipe to deal with them.

Alberto kept asking me about my company, and the day we could’ve work together seemed to be getting closer.
- If everything goes well... fingers crossed... I’ll discuss my thesis by the end of the month.
- Great... how many years did you spend there in the end?
- They are only eight then... eight and a half... Well, you haven’t much to make yourself smart, from now on you’ll have to look at me from bottom up...
- I don't know why... but I think it takes much more than that...
Of course we were both joking. And we also often joked about when Cristina would graduate.
- You’ll be the only one in our group to have a university degree dated in the new millennium... it's nice, it will make you feel young...
Alberto laughed instinctively, then tried to restrain himself as she looked at him badly.
- I hate you, both of you... I do feel very offended...
He then tried to save himself in a corner by highlighting all of her qualities...
- She's a perfect housewife... she's very meticulous, she never leaves anything untidy... except in my computer! She takes care of my dog, my cat, helps her mother, her grandmother...

* * *

In early 1999 my mother died.
We had never been on good terms, but of course this gave me a decent shock.
Yeah... my parents had split up many years before, and I had never seen my father again... I had lived all those years together with my mother, without ever achieving the kind of relationship that I used to think there should have been between a son and a mother... and I was never able to feel guilty that much.
I used to watch other families discussing, doing, growing up... while in my home nothing ever changed: my mother was always the same, always so... non-existent, almost as if she were a household appliance, unable to give me a valid advice for life...
Perhaps that was the reason why my friends, especially the good and sincere ones, were everything to me.
And now she was gone.
I had often believed that if I had got married and had let her become a grandmother, perhaps our relationship would have improved. But it hadn't happened.
Precisely for these reasons, and also because I was essentially alone, when this happened I thought of talking about it only with very few people. Giulio, Claudio, then Franco and Luigi, two of my dear schoolmates, and Alberto and Cristina.
- Unfortunately Alberto won’t be able to join the funeral... - Cristina told me on that Sunday morning. - It's a question of irremediable work... you know, he’s just been hired, he also has a bit of awe... He’s so sorry, I think he will call you later. Now he’s possibly still sleeping because last night he was late in the country with our parents...
- Of course... don't worry, just don't worry.

They had come to visit me the night my mother had passed away... it had happened suddenly, around noon... luckily I was here at my house, not too far from where she lived. That day, in fact, there had been a small procession of people in my house.
Alberto and Cristina then came back to me the next evening and Saturday afternoon... the funeral was scheduled for Monday morning.
- I beg your pardon again, Gianluca... today I tried hard, at the place where I work, to have at least a couple of hours free... but exactly tomorrow... they made me understand that I must necessarily be there.
- Come on, Albi... absolutely... don't worry. Did I not know you... It gives me so much pleasure that you're here with me now. Tomorrow... it will be a special day, but... then it’ll pass. I just feel guilty because... I should feel worse...
- Feel how right you think you should feel... death of parents always hurts, of course... but you can be more or less tied to them... it depends on so many aspects, there may have been guilt on both sides...
- You know... the way I am, I especially feel a great nostalgia for things that could have been done and were not done, because maybe there was a way to have a better relationship and...
- Try not to think about it. It risks becoming a sterile recrimination. Though…
- Yes, Cristina... you're right. It’s that "though" that is difficult to drive away.

And, indeed, after a few weeks my life returned to the usual routine. I had an opportunity to meet some relatives I had not seen for a long time, besides those that, on average, we went and visit every two years. I showed Turin to several old ladies who had been friends with my mother and I had the opportunity to appreciate once more my city, from the monuments to the hills, to the mountains, to the ferries on the river, to the Christmas decorations that were finally giving their way to the carnival festoons.

* * *

- Listen, Cristina, may I ask you lend me a pair of tights?
This was the question I asked her three days before a carnival party. Except she wasn’t expecting it.
- What are you saying? Are you crazy?
- But no... it's just for carnival! Sure, if I like them then...
- Oh, no, here you go again...
The thing that most made me feel better about the two of them, was that they always seemed... or rather, they despaired for real, when they saw me a little down. In that case, however, I didn't feel down at all nor meditate on strange ideas: I was only organizing to dress in a mask, and since at that age I had never dressed as a woman, I had decided that it could be the right moment.

- By the way... I wanted to tell you that we finally set the date...
- The date? - I asked, pretending to be surprised. I knew very well which date was in the air for a while... and in fact I didn't pretend for long.
- Ahhh, THE date!
- October 16th. I'm starting to tell you, so you keep yourself free...
- Eh, well, of course... I could indeed have other more important commitments...
- Nice, though! Which other commitments?
I had never seen them angry, neither she nor Alberto... I couldn’t tell how they behaved when they really were. But Cristina used to strike me hard since she always took seriously small things, perhaps considering them personal affronts... like that time in a joke about menstruation, which was absolutely not in my style, but with her I had come so...
- But Gianluca... they aren’t possibly the best, but it's part of...
I was quick to apologize... For a moment I wondered why she had immediately asked me this, when her and Alberto's friends were usually much coarser... "Yeah, she sees me as tenderness and sensitivity made person... made man , to be precise" I thought. It was precisely because I knew she saw me like this, that I let myself go to those jokes about stockings and all the rest.

- But I was joking! Of course I have no other commitments...
- Ah, okay then... I'll make you a recommendation: try to get to my marriage together with a girl... we don't want to see you sad, that day.
- I will take this into account, all right...

It was true that since we had known each other, there hadn't been a serious girl in my life: Cristina often seemed to blame herself, but there was no reason for it.
To no one, it was given to know what that reason was.

Chapter 4

Alberto had graduated a little more than a year before and had already had two work experiences.
- So... how's it going with these digitally controlled machines? - I asked him by passing and visiting him at home after work.
- Well, yeah... everything well... Of course I think I can do more... but you know how it is, Gianluca, now I have to think about getting married and so...
- Heh, well... I understand you, of course... indeed, lucky you, I would say, to quote a phrase I did hear in the past...
- Good... good... you took your revenge at the right time - he replied smiling.
Then he went on: - among the other things, are you busy tonight?
- No... no, - I replied.
After my mother's death, I always tried not to eat alone in the evening. The nostalgia that assailed me in those cases was somewhat different from the one that assailed me and had attacked because of the lack of a person to love... it was something that I hadn’t yet managed to identify, and even talking about it with Cristina I couldn’t feel much better.
- If you feel like, you can eat something here with me...
- Well, thank you, but...
- Come on, now I call Cri and ask her if she wants to join us here, then the three of us can start eating there, in the cellar, so we're alone... Do you feel like enjoying that?
As always, I was speechless. And scenes like that were happening quite often... Now that the circle of friends had thinned out, as people thought mostly about starting a family and evenings were often spent in the intimacy of couples, I was proud to be able to count on their.
All in all, I couldn't help but notice that these were the two people with whom I was feeling at my absolute best.

* * *

But one day…

- Gianluca?
- Yup?
It sounded like Cristina's voice, but it was strange that she called me on my cell phone. In my mind I could only remotely imagine that such a call would have meant trouble.
- Are you in your car? Can you talk?
- Cristina...?
It was indeed her voice.
- ...tell me, what is it about?
- It's a... mess... Alberto had an accident... along with his mother, on the way back from work... His mom just called me, says he fainted, he’s not moving...
- What? - I asked, terrified.
It didn't seem possible... Alberto was one who used to drive carefully... that is, not exactly with prudence, but with a remarkable mastery of his vehicle... it wasn’t possible that one like him could get into a car accident. At least that was what I and the other friends had always believed.
- And where is he?
- He’s around Rivalta... I think, because his mother doesn’t know the exact place... in fact she called an ambulance but wasn’t able to explain well... then she phoned me...
She was upset. It was the first time I heard her like this, in all those years. But I didn't pay much attention to the tone of her voice and concentrated on the fact itself.
- I’ll get out immediately... I’ll take the phone with me, so I can call her immediately... I'll pick you up in a quarter of hour... that is, I hope... I'm doing as quickly as possible.
- No, no... go immediately to him, if you know that road... we have to hurry... I'm waiting for my mother or my father to arrive and I'll join you...
- But...
- Please, Gianluca, go... hurry up...
- Agreed. As soon as I know something I'll call you back...

I ran out of my house and jumped onto my car.
"How absurd", I thought to myself.
We had done so many things together... I couldn't even imagine my friend being the victim of an accident.
It was late afternoon and there was hellish traffic. I headed towards the road that led out of town, direction Rivalta, and dialled Alberto's cell number.
As expected, his mother replied, which broadly confirmed the indications given to me by Cristina.
Just to get out of the city, it took more than ten minutes. As I left home, it looked like something within my reach, to arrive at the scene of the accident in a short time, but as minutes passed, I started to feel uneasy.
I was sweating cold. I could almost see Alberto breathing with difficulty, feeling fear making his way inside his mother and, miles away, inside Cristina.
Finally I turned onto the highway. "From here on, it's all smooth" I thought, pushing my foot on the pedal.
And, in fact, after a few kilometers I saw a car placed sideways, blocking the passage.
"Here we are" I thought. I tried to stay calm, vaguely intimidated by what I could see.
I moved my car to the right, then got out. I hesitated for a moment, then went back inside to get the first-aid kit: it was Alberto himself who had advised me to always keep that kit and also a fire extinguisher in the car.
I approached the car, which obviously wasn’t Alberto’s car which I knew well, and I started looking around to see the known car and my friend and his mother.
But I couldn't find it. I made two laps around that big sedan, without success. At one point I realized that indeed that car showed no signs of collision.
I was mulling over this situation when I saw a door opening, and there was a person behind the door. White-haired as she was, I thought she could be Mrs. Deloni, but I soon realized that she wasn't.
He was a man in his fifties, a little taller than me. He approached me at first hesitantly, then firmly...
- You're looking for Alberto, aren't you?
- Yes... - I answered him in uncertainty. I didn't realize it, but soon the tone of my voice became impatient. - But where’s he?
- You shouldn't go to him... you have to let him die... do nothing to save his life...
I didn't understand the words, or rather I didn't notice.
I started screaming.
- Where is he? Where is he? And you... who are you? Where is the other car?
I felt the anger rise, strong emotions... minutes passed and my friend had little time to get help.
I kept my eyes fixed on his eyes... they were light eyes... his eyes were determined even though, I could say with certainty, full of pain... I was surprised I was able to feel that guy’s emotions so clearly...
I shook myself up. I moved towards and then walked past him, heading for his car: I opened the door and looked inside. There was no one nor did the car show any further sign of collision or accident.
I closed the door and walked around the car. Even on the other side there were neither scratches nor dents... On closer inspection, the car seemed to have been placed very carefully in the exact center of the road, as if to prevent other vehicles from getting through.
As I continued to inspect the surroundings, I met again the old man's gaze.
- It's strange that you don't understand, Luca... Actually, Gianluca, sorry for the wrong name...
He surprised me again by saying my complete name.
- How do you know my name? Are you a relative of Alberto’s? – As I was saying these words I had for a moment the terror of not having recognized Alberto's father... but, no... that man wasn't him.
-... in any case, you must not go to him... it will be better this way.
Again, anger rose inside me. I took another half-turn around the car and went back to the man.
- I don't know what you're talking ‘bout... but I kindly ask you to move your car off the road. And quick! There’s a friend of mine who has had an accident, later on this road...
- I know that... we know it well. But now sit down for a moment... - he coughed. - As long as you're here, we’ve got plenty of time...
He put his arm around my neck... I was seized by a shiver and, despite myself, I followed him to the edge of the road and I didn't even realize that no other car had arrived, on that usually busy road...
As suddenly subdued by his words, I calmed down and unconsciously began to answer him.
I looked him in the eyes again.
- But... how could I not run to him... he’s one of my best friends... - I said, then I distracted the look... - I will never let anything happen to him... and he’d do the same for me, or rather, he’s already done it...
We sat on the side of the road. With the same steady expression as before, he spoke to me again.
- The future of... so many people will depend on your child...
I winced...
I started to sketch a question, but he anticipated me.
- Yes, I come from your future...
I wanted to challenge this statement, I wanted to ask him a million things, but... for some strange reason, I dwelt on that other question.
- And... what's that got to do with it? Will I have a child? When? I asked frantically.
- Your child... will save many lives, starting with yours... It will change your life... just like you changed ours...
I wasn't able to understand anything anymore.
Slowly the guy was managing to distract me from my main concern. I wanted to know more.
- But... but what's the problem then?
Instinctively, I made the simplest possible connection, among the things I had been told by that gentleman.
- Will Alberto hurt my son? I don’t buy this…
His gaze became, if possible, even more glacial... but he didn't turn away from me.
- You don’t understand. This son will be yours and... Cristina’s.
At those words I was petrified.
- After Alberto’s tragic death, she will get bound to you... Some time will pass, but your closeness will help her overcome those moments, and then suddenly you’ll discover that you love her. I mean... you already know...
With an emotion that punched heavily with my mood of the moment, I had to admit that of course he was right...
- Well... of course... But... what has it got to do with the rest? She's his girlfriend... in fact, practically his wife... it's a matter I never even wanted to imagine.
I looked at the clock, without realizing exactly how much time had passed: it was just an instinctive gesture to bring me back to reality, to Alberto, victim of an accident, to me who was standing there listening to the ravings of a...
- He will also save your life... - he continued.
I still couldn't get up.
- I don't care about it... I never wanted to betray Alberto and I wouldn't do it even if my life depended upon that...
"My life...", I thought to myself. As if to reinforce the value of our friendship, I added , aloud "and, in any case, everlasting love is not for me."
But the guy went on.
- ...and about the lives of all the other people who will cease to exist... millions of people...: do you still care nothing?
I looked at him in terror.
- What are you saying? Which people... will die? And why?
Fear, and a kind of growing nausea led me to get up abruptly, but I couldn't get away except for a few steps.
I saw my car still standing a few feet away, the other car straight at my right... sun had definitely set. My eyes lingered in the void... a sea of thoughts swirled in my mind...
Until I heard his voice again.
- I didn't say they'll die... they haven't been born yet... Because of your experiments... - he said, raising his voice, to make sure I listened to him.
- I mean, combining your computer skills with those of... no, I can't tell you... and then, anyway, it doesn't matter... see, of that woman, you'll come to build a time machine. And you will discover... the future, you’ll get to know our future...
For the first time I heard hesitation in his voice.
- And... among the many possible futures... yes, all of them do converge towards a point where the world degenerates, people begin to die... and neither you nor she will be able to do anything in order to... change these facts. You will have the means, but you won’t be motivated. You…
He hesitated even more markedly.
- ...you'll be demotivated. A genius, as always, but empty...
A lightning flashed from his wrinkled eye.

- You saved my life, I did nothing but return you the favor. And millions of other people will be saved...
- But...
- Don't worry... your machine showed us the future... but we soon realized that it wasn't worth changing. It’s true, there’s no fixed destiny, but in any direction our lives evolve, there will be happiness and pain... I’ve already had my share of happiness, now it's your turn...
- But...
- Take care of her... She’ll have to suffer a lot, but... there's something in you that I wasn’t able to give her...
Only as he was disappearing along with his car, did I realize that he was Alberto.

Chapter 5

Cristina was entering the ambulance beside a stretcher, helped by two nurses. I only caught a glimpse of the face of the person lying on the stretcher, but I had no trouble in recognizing Alberto.
His mother was picking up something from the car... Alberto's minivan... recently bought, a family car...
I saw the car at the edge of the road, slightly sloping to the left. I approached it and was able to see the left front wheel forcibly bent in an unusual position and a strong dent on the driver's door. My breath stopped, thinking about my friend... space reserved to the driver had been reduced to one half... the blow had to have been very strong: so much that I was surprised his mother had not been hurt at all.
Mrs. Deloni approached me, her eyes swollen, a sign of what she was suffering.
Meanwhile the ambulance closed its doors and left off with sirens full-on.
I was late.
I looked at my watch and realized it had taken me at least twenty minutes more than I had planned.

- Oh, Gianluca... I'm so scared... He’s not been moving after the blow... It's... it was like an explosion... - she said to me, pointing at the big van standing a hundred yards away.
- But how did it happen? Did he come towards you? - I asked her.
- I don't... I don't know... At one point I heard Alberto suddenly swerving, cursing, honking his horn, and I saw that huge mass pointing at us... Then the shock... our car made two, three laps... it looked like hell.
For a moment she couldn't hold back her tears.
- I... I immediately turned to Alberto, when it was all over... I called him, but he didn't answer... he had his face covered in blood... oh, my God... and I haven't been hurt at all, why... oh why…
I was about to start crying too. I hugged the old lady, who then tried to compose herself.
- You’ll see that it is nothing serious, ma'am... It’s just the blow, but for sure he’ll soon recover... - I tried to convince her.
But at that very moment the harsh truth showed up before my eyes.
"He won't wake up again..." He was already in a coma... "By the time he gets to the hospital... those twenty minutes will be fatal to him," I thought to myself.
He had succeeded in his purpose. I didn't remember much of all the things the other Alberto had told me, but I only bore in my mind the fact that he had wanted me to let him die.
And he managed that... I could have arrived earlier... those minutes would have been essential... he was losing a lot of blood...
Tears came to my eyes.
I had let my friend die...

I heard a car braking behind me. I turned around, slightly moving Alberto's mother away from me, and I recognized his father. I quickly explained what had happened, hiding what I was really feeling, while the lady took her leave of me and sat in her husband's car.
- They’re at Giaveno hospital... I'll meet you there... - I told him... Then, feeling vaguely guilty, I added - do you know this area, Mr. Deloni?
- Yes, I think so. Shall we make the road together, Luca?
I nodded. Alberto's father always called me like that, when he was tense...
I got into my car and, after a few hundred meters, I could do nothing but abandon myself to the most complete despair.

* * *

At Alberto's funeral I wore a sober classic suit for the first time, something I had never even considered. Besides, I had never even considered the idea that I could lose one of my most important friends so soon.
The atmosphere was the heaviest I could ever feel. Ain’t it difficult to imagine: Alberto and Cristina were supposed to get married within six months, and his and hers parents were destroyed.
His Mom had her gaze lost in the void and she wouldn't move a single step without having her husband at her side or Cristina... she didn't talk to anyone, she accepted condolences and other phrases without blinking her eyes... Mr. Deloni tried to hold back his tears, without success.
I met many common friends, all the people that Alberto had introduced me to in those years, and others too, whom I had perhaps only seen randomly at some dinner.
And then there was Cristina.

I hadn't met her since that long night at the hospital...
I had arrived one minute after Alberto's parents... I found them all sitting around him... he, with his eyes closed, his face almost completely covered by bandages, heart that could be imagined beating only thanks to the machinery to which he was connected.
I wanted to stay out of that little room... but then I couldn't help but get closer. I was standing between Cristina and my friend's mother, slightly backward... Because of that meeting I had had in the afternoon, I could no longer remember Alberto's face as I knew him... I seemed to see, beneath those bandages, the face of the old man I had met a few hours before...
I tried to get rid of that image.
I felt shocked, terribly guilty, that was the only certainty I had, that I wanted to have. That's why I hesitated when Cristina took my hand and held it up to hers, on Alberto's left arm. She hadn't even looked up at me... she was completely engulfed in pain... she didn’t say a word...
No one spoke... After a few minutes I thought I was going crazy. I wanted to shout that it was my fault, that I had been slow in rescuing a friend because I had had a vision... A shudder had traversed my body. Cristina had noticed it and looked at me for a moment, then returned to her boyfriend.
Occasionally a doctor or nurse would come in, check some values on the instruments and then look at us all for a moment, showing neither optimism nor pessimism. None of us dared to ask the staff for an opinion on the patient's state of health... Alberto's parents and also Cristina were very rational people and they would never have made any kind of show. I figured that a diagnosis had been made at the time of admission and that they now were awaiting the evolution of facts.

After a few hours Alberto's father had returned home: it was already night and he needed to rest... his health hadn't been the best for a few years. His mother, on the other hand, had not wanted to, she was convinced that her son needed her, that he would soon open his eyes...
Instead the hours passed and the situation didn’t change: at one point Cristina convinced Alberto's mother to go home, assuring her that she wouldn’t leave even for a moment.
- I'm just going to call a taxi, and ring my parents... - Cristina whispered in my ear. - You... - she added, questioning.
I only nodded to her, to tell her that I would wait for her, that I would not leave until...
I felt I already knew until when I would’ve stopped.
The lady greeted me and then walked away into the corridor; Cristina followed her, leaving the room as she kept her eyes on Alberto.

It was almost dawn by now... we had spent all night holding Alberto's hands... and we were both upset by fatigue, consumed by what had happened...
We had not said a single word since Alberto's mother had left. Emotionally I couldn't take it anymore, but I wouldn't have left my friend for any reason in the world.
At one point Cristina asked me if I felt like going and getting a bottle of water...
- Of course... I'm going straight away... - I replied.
And soon I was back with water and some croissants. So I was able to spend some more hours in there.
And so Alberto's parents had returned, along with those of Cristina... I remember that everyone's eyes were filled with emotion in seeing all of us three there, in silence, almost in prayer (Cristina was certainly praying, I hadn't done that for a long time...)
- Go home, Gianluca, you have your job to care for... - Cristina's mother had thoughtfully told me.
And I had accepted the invitation, also asking her daughter if she wanted me to take her home...
- Yes, if you take me up to my car... it's parked on the highway, near where the hit took place...
- Yeah... sure, I'll accompany you there...

And, as I feared, that would be the last time I saw my friend alive.
I had in fact woken up in the early afternoon and found two messages on the answering machine: hesitant, I had approached the computer, asked it to make me listen to them... first was from a client... but the second one was from Cristina...
Alberto's heart had stopped beating for a sudden complication.
I had rushed to the hospital and found her alone... sitting next to Alberto.
- My parents have brought his parents to get some fresh air... you know, his mother...
She didn’t look too excited, despite what had happened, but in an instant she burst into tears.
She stood up... - Ohhh, Gianluca... - she said, leaning her hands on my shoulders and resting her head on my chest. Hesitant again, I shrugged her shoulders, then hugged her, lightly caressed her head...
After a few minutes we returned to Alberto's bed... without saying a further word.

The funeral had been scheduled within two days.
Cristina had her face quite heavily covered in make up... I had never seen her so covered... I thought she had possibly been crying a lot, I tried to imagine what could be in her heart, the emptiness that had assaulted her, the desert which was making its way into what had been fertile ground for love up to three days before.
Almost avoiding her, I approached the two families and offered my condolences, then went to the groups of friends I knew and joined them in remembering.
But, entering the church, she was the one who made me sit in front, in the second row, along with all the people who had been closest to Alberto. And the priest began his mass... there were immediately words for Alberto... and I thought I would’ve felt very bad, that I couldn't have done it... I had not felt the same emotions at my mother's funeral...
Then the readings, then a memory of what he was... a summary which looked too short.
And every now and then you could hear a sob, a moan... until it was time to close the coffin... we walked towards the wagon, me and some other boys... then we reached the cemetery and then, on our foot, the niches. When I saw my friend walled up inside those marble walls, it was natural even for me to say a prayer.
And then it all ended. I took leave of everyone, repeating to Cristina the things she had told me at my mother's funeral: "if you need anything, call me... call me, please."

Those last words exchanged with Cristina were not followed by any others, for several days. And so they continually resounded in my head, as a background to all that had happened.
I was back at my job, one day after the funeral, then the weekend had come, and then a new week... the evenings were full of nostalgia... I would have given anything for a double match at tennis with Alberto, to tell him about some of my new projects, to hear his voice...
I missed his friendship... sometimes it was just the bare feeling of immediate emptiness, what I felt the most... other times I considered we were never going to see each other again, that I could never organize something with him, that he would never be here again...
And then I immediately started thinking about how Cristina could feel... I had never loved anyone the way they loved each other: I didn't even dare to imagine what her state of mind was.
But, whenever I wanted to call her to be close to her the same way she had been when I had been suffering... for much less, by the way... I was stuck.
A different phase had started in my dealings with her.
I had told her "call me" and then I had corrected myself with a "call" as an invitation to her family...
I didn’t want to have any direct contact with her... whatever I had done would have gone in the direction that had been prophesied: we would’ve started to see each other differently, we would have bonded and...
I didn't even want to imagine taking Alberto’s place in her life... I didn't want to betray my friend... I had set aside the circumstance that he himself had described me this aspect of my future life. "It would be just making a profit out of it..." I thought.
I would have preferred to pass for a cold and rude guy, but I didn't want to hear from Cristina.

And, as it was logical, she called me one day.
- Hello... how are you?
I felt embarrassed.
- Hi... I, well... and you?
- See, I didn't sleep at all last week, I spent half my time looking at the ceiling of my room, the other half at Alberto's place crying along with his parents... oh, no... I don't want to think about it.
- Please…
- And you? I didn't hear from you anymore... I was worried... even at Stefano's shop they didn't see you anymore... are you sure you're okay?
- Well, of course, there is like a void surrounding me everywhere I turn... I'm doing the bare minimum, I work, I am not going out... I still can't manage to understand...
- Yes, that's how I would call it...
There was a pause.
- Look, if you feel like, my mom and I thought we'd invite you for dinner tomorrow night... would you?
- Well, thank you... of course I will... okay... I'm glad...
Destiny had taken its first step.

* * *

They all welcomed me quite warmly, Cristina, her dad and her mom.
The house hadn't changed since the last times I had been with her: the cat was turning slyly around the rooms, the lady was busy at the stove as usual, intent on preparing a whole series of delicious dishes. Cristina sometimes helped her, but she always said she wasn't a good cook like her mother...
And anyway, now there was no hurry for her to learn how to cook.
Less than ten minutes had passed since I arrived at her home and I felt guilty again, despite the promises...
However the dinner went well... the atmosphere was less tense than one could have imagined... Alberto’s ghost was in everyone's mind but the conversation between us didn’t lack.
Cristina's dad at one point asked me a question I wasn’t expecting
- Then Luca...
His wife interrupted him.
"Nooo," she just said.
And he corrected himself.
- Ah, yep, it’s Rodolfo who calls you like this... sorry, Gianluca.
I smiled. - Don't worry, Mr. Airenti...
- I wanted to ask you if you were going on with that work concerning home networks...
"How strange," I thought... he had never asked me specific questions about my job.
I replied to him rather generically that yes, I was working on it... it was a section of automation that I had just begun to explore, even if at the moment there were no practical applications, at least that I knew about.
But he wanted to dig into details.
- One month ago the son of a friend, yes... we met and he told me about these home networks... he would be interested in deepening the matter, and since Cristina always talks to me about you and the things you build...
- But it's not just me... I also do them thanks to my partners...
I don't know why but that line, which wanted to mean a touch of modesty, served on the other hand to evoke Alberto’s image again.
But it passed.
- Anyway, if you want, call me or just tell Cristina when you have a free moment and I'll take you to their place...
- All right, certainly...

At one point, then, Cristina's parents went to the living room to watch television.
- Wait... there's still the cake - she said, seeing that I was about to get up.
Automatically, left alone at the table with her, I again felt out of place, and tried to hurry up and leave. And so I exaggerated.
- I prepared this... - she said, handing me a nice plate of tirami-su. - But you already know it...
Yeah... it was Cristina's famous tirami-su... a treat. As I began to taste it, she collected the dishes on the sink and got ready to wash them.
I hurried to finish that delicacy and put the dish in the kitchenette.
Then I returned to the table and proceeded to clear it up, but she had followed me out of the corner of my eye.
- Do nothing, Gianluca... just sit down and...
- But...
I remembered the moments I spent at Alberto's house, at those dinners, at camping holidays... she never wanted anyone to help her with housework... she was a woman... a perfect wife, as Alberto and I often said.
At that moment those thoughts gave me a thrill. I was looking at her as she fiddled with the dishes and the pots, in her elegant housewife outfit, but suddenly I looked away.
I waited for her to finish, trying in vain to lend her a hand. Then I managed at least partially to succeed, helping her to go and get a crate of wine bottles in the cellar. And immediately afterwards I prepared to leave, thinking that, all things considered, it was better if we were not to see each other for a while yet.
And instead…
- So... thank you for everything... Say thanks to your parents too...
- Sure…
I hesitated. I hated the phrases of circumstance.
-...Well, I'm glad to have seen you... pretty well...
I saw her eyes become sad.
- Company is good for me... as soon as I'm alone I see nothing but him...
She put her hand over her eyes, but immediately removed them. I felt my arms move independently in order to embrace that little, tender flower... but then I regained control.
Cristina went on.
- Look, tomorrow I've got to go and get the car... do you want to come along? If you don't have anything else to do, of course...
- At what time? No, in any case there are no problems... for sure...
- There is no precise timetable... I’d prefer tomorrow afternoon because in the morning I have to do some errands with my mother.
- Okay, so... shall we say at three?
- Okay, I'll wait for you.
I gave her a kiss on the cheek and greeted her.
- Gianluca... - she told me again. - Are you eating at home tomorrow? Do you want to come to us for lunch?
I politely declined the invitation. It wasn’t the case. It would have been enough to meet at three.

We went to the car bodywork to retrieve Alberto's car: it was almost like new... insurance had paid for everything, and there was still the issue of the driver's death at stake... from that point of view there were no disputes going on.
But as I was taking Cristina to the home of Alberto's parents, while she was driving that car, I felt sick again.
Alberto's mother didn’t even come to greet me... his father, as he had already explained to me on the phone, was trying to get her to recover, but she was now little more than a ghost. He got into the car, took it to the garage below the house, then returned and thanked us, rather cold. It was much understandable. Cristina and I said goodbye and headed for her home.
By the time we got to her gate, she was crying. I wasn't too sure, but I had the impression that she had been crying since she got back in the car, or perhaps, more probably, since she got into Alberto's car. I parked... I turned and looked at her... she tried to wipe away her tears.
- No... - I whispered to her. I took her in my arms and stroked that head again...
- Just go on... don't worry.
Meanwhile, I tried to prevent the same tears from starting to gush from my eyes. I could be as sweet and sensitive as she imagined, but I didn't want to be so at the time.
- I guess how bad it must be for you... I've never experienced what you felt for each other, except...
Except?
I froze for a moment. Then I resumed talking in a low voice. Quite softly, she was still crying.
- I don't know how long it will take... we’ll never fill the void he left... and yet... we’ll have to continue living...
A few more minutes passed.
Then she lifted her head... pulled down the mirror of the parasol, gave herself a fix and...
- Thank you... thank you so much. We’ll phone each other.

A few days later I sent her a message via Internet. I just wanted to ask if she was feeling better.
Cristina called me back the evening after.
- Sorry for last night...
- No, no... absolutely, you don't have to...
We arranged to meet one evening in the weekend, along with some of our other friends.
And we started to talk regularly again, less frequently than before, going out with our different groups of mutual friends.
Alberto's name was almost never spoken in public... We only talked about him, me and her, on the phone or when we were in the car alone... it was the best way to live with the misfortune and make life go on.
And so the following days, the following months, passed...

During the holidays Cristina had decided to stay in Turin, or rather in her country house... she had practically never gone on vacation on her own... she had switched from holidays with her parents to those with her boyfriend...
I used to call her every three days from my resort to hear how she was feeling: at a certain point she told me that a dear friend of hers had gone and visit her, so she would have felt a little less alone.
- And how are you?
- Well, you see... I’m talking to you from the edge of this pool... I know it's stupid to go to these wonderful islands and then stay closed in a village... but, you know how it is, this kind of holiday are mostly fit for singles...
- You’ll never change…
- But...
Those words had a strange effect on me... I was about to reply that it wasn't my fault if... the right person didn't exist for me... the usual excuse that justified the fact that I didn't have a stable girlfriend... But...
Suddenly I felt a strong desire to be near Cristina, to watch her face...
- ...no... it doesn't matter...
- Huh? What were you going to say?
- Nothing, it's... a... person has passed. I go now. Take care... I'll call you back tomorrow... I mean, no, I meant... Friday...
- Be good... bye.
It started that afternoon, and I couldn’t take it off my mind anymore for the ten days left.
What was I doing, two thousand miles away from her? For the first time I felt like I had some feelings for Cristina... in fact, to be honest, for the first time I admitted it to myself... those sensations I had already felt in all the past years...
It was what the other Alberto had said... "you already know": for the first time I saw that scene lucidly and reasoned about it... I came to wonder when she would have noticed.
For a couple of days my appetite disappeared... the group which was with me was surprised to see me so changed: unfortunately there were no friends among them to whom I could explain what was moving in my heart.
But by the time I returned to Turin at the end of August, after keeping on talking to Cristina over the phone, trying to calm the heartbeat and the emotions I felt every time I heard her voice, it had gone away, somewhat. I decided that it was better if I didn't go and visit her in the country and I invented an excuse... it wasn't really an excuse, in fact: every time I had gone to that town it had been together with Alberto... I would have felt a little bit of breakdown for sure.
And life resumed normally.

In autumn, Alberto's birthday came, and we both spent the night alone at home. I thought it was better not to recall on the phone with Cristina all the past birthdays... it would only bring her more pain.
I stayed home... I organized myself with all the records that Alberto and I had been listening to together, going skiing, on the ferry... I prepared myself to drink... and I lay down on the sofa, with a soft light...
It was my little tribute to my friend who was gone...
A few hours passed, punctuated by the songs and the different eras, by the different situations they recalled... here and there I let some tears come out...
It was curious... I wanted to give all of myself for that occasion... for some reason I was convinced that in the year to come I'd no longer be in the same situation. Unconsciously I wanted to return the favor to my friend...

* * *

I had been at Alberto's parents' house no longer than one week before, but for Christmas Eve I thought it was right to get back and visit them. For the occasion, I brought only flowers... I didn't think it was the case to produce gifts of any kind... I tried to deliver them personally to Alberto's mother... every time she merely waved me from her room... but dad explained to me that, like all the other times, she wouldn’t have enjoyed talking to anyone.
- I'll bring her these... you’re very kind, Gianluca...
Then I went to Cristina's too.
- Are you going to the mass tonight? - I asked her, after congratulating her parents.
- Yes, of course... are you coming too?
- This year I think it's the right thing to do...
- Yes, I understand you... are you going to pick me up, or shall we meet later?
- No, I'll pick you up...

In those last times I had managed to deal with my feelings for her, with sufficient rationality. It’s probable that it was because I felt somehow predestined... the sense of guilt towards Alberto had passed, I had made myself a reason analyzing carefully what had happened on the accident evening.
Not that it was enough for me... I still had a lot of doubts... assuming that things would have really gone like this, wouldn’t it have been like teasing Cristina? And then, why, strangely, was I able to stay calm and peaceful with her even though I felt very strong feelings for her?
The answer came that same evening.

I had passed at her place at half past ten. I asked her parents if they wanted a ride to church, but they had politely declined.
So Cristina and I were at a traffic light as my eyes fell on a kitten on the sidewalk.
- Look there! A cat... it’s strange...
- Where is it? - she asked me.
- There... can you see it? Now he is going towards that window... But... he has blood on his face...
- What? Are you sure?
I moved my car from our lane to the middle of the road, then switched the emergency lights on and got off.
- Let's check…
Cristina followed me quickly.
We slowly approached the little cat, initially a little frightened, but then it let himself be caressed and picked up.
It was true... it had blood on his face and one eye looked rather battered... probably a result of some cat fight.
- Do you have a tissue? - I asked Cristina, as I knelt down.
- Yeah, take it...
I carefully cleaned the face of the small animal.
- Will you even get me some water, Cristina? It's in the bottle under the seat... I hope...
The cat, strangely docile, looked much better after a few minutes.
I saw Cristina, smiling happy, pick up the kitten.
- How good have you been... a perfect veterinarian job... Well, there's plenty of room at home... let's hope it agrees to let himself be driven sixty kilometers from here!
- I've always loved cats... and I always thought that my ideal girlfriend should have loved cats like me... You know, I fell in love with a bunch of girls who liked cats... well... except...
Cristina stared at me.
She let the cat on the ground, holding one hand resting on his back... with the other she came to take my right hand... she freed it from the handkerchief that I was still holding tight... and squeezed it hard... still staring at me.
I felt I was turning red.
- I…
- Don’t say a thing…
She rose slightly and rested her lips upon mine... for a moment.
- This cat is yours... you've to decide whether to let it come to my house... and, while you're at it... you have to make a decision for me too...
She kept staring at me... finally I felt the warmth of her eyes... it was as if I had always just observed a photograph, even when we looked at each other... and now, suddenly, I was looking at the real person.
This time it was me who moved slowly towards her... I returned her kiss, then again... then the horn of some angry motorist shook us and convinced us to get back in the car with the kitten.
That Christmas Mass has stayed forever in our hearts.

Chapter 6

The times that followed were very dense with events.
In the early days, Cristina and I started meeting every night, sometimes even hiding from her parents and everyone who knew us... but it didn't last long.
After a month we made it known to everyone that we were dating, and before it was summer we announced that we wanted to get married.
I'd be lying if I said that there hasn't been one single unhappy day in my life since that Christmas night, but for sure the joy I feel now when I think about my life with Cristina is not unlike what I felt on Christmas morning of 1999, as I woke up and realized that I had met love.
Day after day my feelings, always held in a corner, always turned to something else, to something that could not be grasped... turned solid... and the awareness that she was reciprocating me was what gave them the strength to become solid.

- I loved your intelligence and the sweetness of your words, your ways of doing... more than anything else in the world... That was the reason why I was calling you all the time... I wanted to hear you speak...
- Yeah, well... sometimes I was less poetic...
- No... I wouldn't say that... you were less happy, but always poetic... It was curious... on the one hand I wanted you to be happy, to settle down like me and Alberto... but on the other hand I wanted you to keep telling me about your feelings, about your dreams... I was very happy to be your point of reference...
It was, and still is, love in the most intimate meaning of the term... we had known each other for a long time, we had spent good and less beautiful moments, and a tragic experience from which something new had sprung up... we were both convinced... even starting from conditions different initials and points of view, that life was made of all this.

And two years later Riccardo had been born.
He was also part of that life.

- ...your stubbornness, commitment and willpower that you put into everything you did, from your work... I remember how you faced and completed the inspiration my father had given you that evening at dinner... and the decision with which you said you loved me, that you wanted us to get married right away, and that you knew I would be the best mother for your children...
In this, I must admit I had been given suggestions.
- ...if your mood was serene, you were really above average: that's why I never wanted to see you sad... when you weren't feeling well you wasted your time, threw your ideas to the wind, your intelligence... Instead, watching you at work... mentally, professionally, it was a real show.

I never understood if Cristina should have known the truth about... sometimes I wanted to tell her about it, but I've always been a little scared.
I can only trust in the love I feel for her... that I swore for all my life in front of that altar that she, in her white wedding dress, lit up one day many years ago.