“Are you happy?” she asks, all sisterly concern.
Matteo’s grip on my hand tightens. “Yes. More than I’ve ever been.”
She turns to me. “And you? Is this… real for you?”
“Completely,” I answer without hesitation. “I love him.”
Saying it out loud to someone else feels both terrifying and liberating.
Sophia takes a deep breath, then bends to pick up her briefcase with deliberate calm. She places it on a chair, smooths her skirt, and then does the last thing I expect—she bursts into laughter.
“Of course,” she gasps between fits of giggles. “Of course my brother couldn’t just find a nice boyfriend like a normal person. He had to fall in love with the Pope. The youngest Pope in centuries. During a corruption investigation. While reforming the Church.”
Her laughter is contagious. Matteo snorts, then begins chuckling. I feel my own lips twitching until I too am laughing—the absurdity of our situation suddenly hilarious when reflected through Sophia’s reaction.
“I’m sorry,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes as she gradually regains control. “It’s just so… so perfectly Matteo. Never the easy path.”
“You’re not… upset?” Matteo asks cautiously.
Sophia’s expression softens. “I’m concerned, obviously. The political implications alone are…” She waves a hand, apparently unable to find words adequate to the situation. “But upset that you’ve found someone who clearly cares for you? No.”
She turns to me, her expression shifting to something more serious. “Though I do have questions. Many, many questions.”
“That seems fair,” I say, gesturing to the table. “Would you like some coffee? And perhaps Matteo could put on a shirt?”
Matteo looks down as if surprised to find himself half-dressed. “Right. Yes. Shirt.”
As he disappears toward the bedroom, Sophia accepts the coffee cup I offer. She studies me over its rim with shrewd eyes that miss nothing.
“So,” she says conversationally, “you’re reforming centuries of Church teaching on homosexuality while secretly in a relationship with my brother. That’s… bold.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “I began considering those reforms long before Matteo and I… before we…”
“Became intimately acquainted?” she supplieshelpfully.
I feel heat rising to my face. “Yes.”
“Relax,” she says, her expression softening. “I’m not judging. I’m just trying to understand the man my brother is clearly head over heels for.”
“It’s complicated,” I admit.
“I imagine so.” She sips her coffee thoughtfully. “The Pope and the Prime Minister. It sounds like the title of a controversial harlequin romance.”
“Or a political thriller,” Matteo adds, returning to the kitchen now wearing a simple t-shirt, his firm muscular chest still visible through the thin cotton fabric. He sits beside me, our shoulders touching. “One with assassination attempts, Vatican conspiracies, and corrupt cardinals.”
“Speaking of which,” Sophia says, snapping back to business mode, “that’s why I came. Finance Minister Russo is holding a press conference at noon claiming political persecution. He’s gathered support from three coalition parties.”
The real world intrudes on our brief idyll, bringing with it all the complications we’ve temporarily escaped.
“I should get back,” Matteo says, tension returning to his shoulders.
“And I have a meeting with the Curia at two,” I add reluctantly.
Sophia looks between us, her expression softening again. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of reality. You both look… happy here.”
“We are,” Matteo says simply.
“Then I’ll help you protect this,” she says with sudden determination. “Whatever this is between you, whatever you’re building—I’ll help you shield it from those who would use it against you.”
