“Track eighteen where are you?” I looked over the shoulders of the twelve well-meaning, long-hugging students who came to the noisy Firenze Santa Maria Novella Train Station to see me off, sad that my teaching assignment in Florence was over. After I squirmed through the hug-a-thon, Alexander, the tall young man from Germany, presented me with a send-off gift from the group, a sandstone elephant. I handed the five-pound pachy to Milo, who tucked it into my carry-on bag.
Milo, who was acting as my valet, owned the small hotel that housed our group. He spoke no English. I spoke no Italian. He showed me Tuscany in a way no one else could have. Our extended silences were intimate. We had become close.
When the students left, Milo slid my arms into the backpack straps.
“Milo, no. It’s not heavy. It has wheels.” Milo smiled his gorgeous Italian smile, kissed me with his warm Italian lips, and said something in Italian. I think he thought I thanked him. He enfolded both me and the backpack in his arms. The extra bulk allowed him to grace me with the press of his arousal. Heat erupted in my chest. I wanted to hold him tight, but the backpack had become so heavy, I couldn’t make my arms reach around him. I pulled away and patted his muscled chest. He was hard to leave.
“Ciao, Milo.”
“Si.” He put his hand on my face, shook his head, and turned to leave.
🩷🩷🩷
Dr. Nicki Nance is a retired psychotherapist and professor of psychology. Her short stories have been published in Mystic Minds Magazine, the anthologies of Culture Cult, Wicked Shadows Press, and Sherilyn Kenyon’s Sanctuary and Return to Sanctuary. Her poetry has been published in Literature Today and in the Shards anthology of Ravens Quoth Press.
Lovely story, especially the bittersweet ending.
I liked the nuance; I would have liked seeing these two make it permanent.