Stella knows what she’s risking by asking Tommy this, but their relationship is built on risks. Tommy’s secret spy track, Stella’s violent lineage, lies and guilt and regret. At least when she risks the dreamy landscape they’d just danced within, repairing their relationship these past few months, she can say it’s by choice. They’re standing close and she’s giving him a chance he never gave himself in hopes that, if they can finally face what might always linger above them, they may be able to release it. In this way, they can set each other free. Her breath is steady only as a distraction, counting the seconds between inhales until she’s short of breath. He speaks and her eyebrows perk in anticipation, chin cocking to better see him. Eyes trickle down to his hands as he reaches for her, settling her nerves in a single gesture, to be met with a relieved smile that her risk had not shunned her. The soft skin of his thumb draws her fingers to comfortably sit in his palm before her focus returns to his face. She wants to see him when he speaks. If her senses fail her and the sounds begin to warp, she can read his eyes.
Stella searches his eyes as he searches for words, and a breath catches in her throat when he carries on quicker. Tommy isn’t saying anything he hasn’t before but this time is different. The way she’d flinched at his touch in the Abandoned Chapel doesn’t reflect in how she currently squeezes his hand. The cold anger and betrayal she’d harbored by the time they spoke in the Astronomy Tower stretches miles away from the affinity that encourages her smile. He mentions Vito’s and her family and Stella feels she might cry but instead she laughs lightly with wet eyes and lets her head fall fleetingly, afraid she might miss something. There’s a completeness in the way their stories have so seamlessly aligned. She can always hold onto him not being the one to say goodbye, but how can she stay angry at his reasons when they share the same face as her own? He pauses to brush her hair and she tilts her head against his palm, breathing in the earthy air indulgently. Her free hand rises to keep his hand there a little longer, rubbing her thumb along the outside, before she finds herself holding both his hands between them. There’s a certain sadness in his smile when he finishes, but she can’t mirror it for him, because while these aren’t the circumstances she’d fantasized meeting him again, she doesn’t know if she would have made it through this year without him. He was arguably one of the hardest parts about it, just as he was arguably one of the best. She takes a deep breath just the same and caters to the shivery fuss in her abdomen–one of excitement, of nerves, of risk. “Thank you.” She starts. She takes one long, final look at him, and he looks sad, a bit tired, but he is beautiful like an old movie. She thinks he would shine without color.
Stella can’t find the words to say goodbye to him in a way that feels all encompassing, so just as they’d danced, she follows his lead. “Being in Italy was the best time of my life.” Those times with and without him. “But…it is time for me to go. And…and maybe not entirely because I want to leave, but because I have to.” She repeats his words back to him, her own experience coating it on the way out. “You’re still the person who knows the most about me, and that…I believe that will never change. And it’s..it is because I love you that I have to go. You deserve more than what I can offer you. We both know perfect…it does not last.” Lips pressing together, she could argue this is a testament to that, how perfect it felt to dance with him in the garden, but she doesn’t think this moment is anything short of perfect in its own way. “But I don’t want you to…” she shakes her head, his words on repeat so she could preserve them, they fall from her tongue so effortlessly it’s as though he’s written them for her to give to him. “I don’t want you to think any of this has to do with how I feel about you.” At some point she’d craved escaping him but leaving now, while she knows they need the time apart, is not personal. “I love you–” she says again, earnestly, clenching her grip, giving it a few seconds to exist out there alone–without reason, without regret, without circumstance “–always.” It feels like she’s been holding onto it with white knuckles for weeks, forcing it back down inside her but it feels good to be able to tell him. She understands why he had to do the same. She pulls a hand and wipes her cheek, words speeding up at the burst of release in her chest when she says it. Her voice begins to crack. “I don’t expect you to understand why I have to do this but I-I hope one day you can forgive me. That’s a future I’m holding out for.” Stella accepts that maybe they had their chance and it was magical. She’s made peace with it. It may seem unfair that this is how they’ll part but she knows in her chest, against her own heart, it is what she has to do. Maybe they will never be able to be together, but she wants to live in a world where one day they can fully forgive each other for everything they’ve ever done. His other hand drops and her thumbs come to stroke beneath her eyes, a shy laugh built from joy and clarity and love. “Goodbye, Tommy.”
NOTHING ABOUT HIS GOODBYE IS PARTICULARLY NOVEL. in fact, he’s pretty sure he had said nearly all of it during their first few conversations at gallagher, at the abandoned church and the astronomy tower. but any explanations he had given her back then were sprinkled in with empty apologies, trying to atone for sins he was only half aware he had committed. it’d take the whole school year to learn that such sins and distrust would only heal with time and effort on their side, and even now, it doesn’t feel completely OVER until tommy’s able to get off his chest the goodbye that never was. if he squints at her, he can probably mistake their surroundings for a milanese garden they’d stroll through while taking the long way home from dinner, and it wouldn’t be hard to imagine italian lyrics to go along with the faint music coming from the ballroom. the goodbye he gives her is one of a young man, nearly still a teenager, but tommy’s never felt more aged than he does now, unlocking the ability to move forward by getting it off his chest. when he had left stella in italy, part of him had been stuck there as well, haunting the piazzas he had once known so intimately. perhaps he had never been able to feel as happy as he had been in italy because he had left too much of himself in the country : at vito’s restaurant, at the park, at their old flat. but there’s a stirring in his chest when he’s finally finished with all he has to say, as if those old pieces of himself have finally been returned to him. except one, tommy thinks, as he takes his time cradling stella’s face when she keeps his hand on her cheek. he had given estella manchesi a piece of himself when he had given her his heart, and he can’t imagine ever getting it back. he wouldn’t want it, anyway ; it was hers to do what she pleased with it.
for days tommy had been dreading this, knowing they’d be walking out of each other’s lives tonight, potentially for good. what he hadn’t anticipated was the catharsis that comes with this moment, from a goodbye years ago he thought they both would never get. and with that behind them, the rest seems suddenly a lot more simple. it takes him a moment to realize what she’s doing, but a small smile soon flickers on his lips, head nodding slowly as he gives her the time and attention she had just given him. he only breaks their eye contact once, having to glance away to catch his breath, feeling his chest tighten with emotion. him and stella reuniting at the abandoned chapel at the beginning of the year had been the first and only time tommy ever cried on campus, and he’s not looking to break that streak now, even if these tears aren’t sad. it’s a large swirl of emotions — relief, pride, nostalgia, longing, love — and for once, tragedy isn’t written in this moment. they’ve had enough tragedy in their lives, both together and separately, and he’s sure there’s more to come. yet none of it can touch them right now, no matter how small and fleeting the moment may be. tommy’s gaze only finds hers again when she says three little words with a very big impact, brown eyes quick to dart back towards hers, holding her gaze despite her tears threatening to get in the way. i love you. always. they feel like both a revelation and a reassurance — not something he had ever NEEDED to hear from her, but it will make the following days, weeks, months without her easier. no matter what’s happened between them, whether their roads would cross again or stay parallel for the rest of their lives, it won’t take away the love they have for each other. for someone who seldom asks for much, it’s more than tommy could ask for.
“ i understand, stel. ” his words are quiet as he gives her a final, solemn nod. and he does get it — there’s a reason why their goodbyes parrot one another, because despite the time and setting and circumstances being different, nothing between them has really changed. they’re still both from different worlds, heading into futures that won’t align, and yet they still love each other. parting with her isn’t easy, but the grief is NOTHING like what he had felt after leaving her years ago. it’s the end of a very satisfying chapter, one they’ve written together, and tommy will hope that perhaps one day they’ll get their epilogue. thomas black isn’t a religious man, but he’s found faith in brown eyes and a dreamy smile. eyes flicker to the tears she wipes away after releasing his hands, and while it’d be so easy to reach out and brush them away himself, it’s no longer his job. but he will take a step towards her, bringing his lips to brush against her forehead, keeping them there for a few seconds longer than necessary. when he steps away again, he knows it’ll be for good. “ arrivederci, stella. ”
