|02| - "Does your boyfriend smoke?" -

The early October sun was warm as it shone down on Jasmine and me, reflecting off our glasses of prosecco and casting long shadows across Piazza Maggiore. Constant streams of distant voices added to the hustle and bustle of the city, as the last dregs of tourists huddled together for selfies while shop-owners and businessmen hurried back to work, post-siesta.

For the first time since arriving here, I felt content. Maybe it was because Nathan would be visiting me at the weekend, and the excitement from that was lifting my spirits, maybe it was the prosecco, or maybe it was just because this was nice.

You couldn't do this in England; the weather was hardly ever good enough to allow you to sit outside with a cold drink and soak up the atmosphere.

It wasn't just the visual aspect of it; granted, this square was beautiful with its historical architecture and large open spaces where children ran around, happily playing as their parents watched over them from a nearby cafe, but the main difference was the people. It was a lot more civil; nobody was drinking pints, getting rowdy or cheering at a nearby football match.

It managed to be classy here, without being overtly so. Jasmine and I didn't feel out of place, like we weren't elite enough for it, and that was what made it a much nicer experience overall.

However, there was one thing that was already starting to bug me.

"Are you sure you don't want to move?" Jasmine asked as I tried to subtly waft away a cloud of cigarette smoke.

I shook my head while simultaneously glancing around for any other free tables. At this time in the afternoon, the café was busy, and the weather was pleasant enough to encourage most guests to sit outside, which meant no table was entirely free from straying smoke.

"There's no point," I told her. "You can't really escape it and I'm gonna have to get used to it at some point."

"I do find it ironic," Jasmine said. "I mean, Italy has this reputation of being such a classy country, fashion capital of the world, full of elegant people and heaps of culture... But then they sort of ruin the illusion with all the smoking."

I shrugged, agreeing with her. "I guess so."

"I mean, it's such a disgusting habit," she went on, leading into a full-blown rant. "These people are probably proud of their country and how elegantly they're viewed as a nation, and yet you walk past someone smoking and you'd never think, oh she looks so classy with that cigarette poised between her fingers!"

I smiled in amusement and took a sip of prosecco. Considering I'd been anxious about meeting Jasmine, she'd not given me an opportunity to be nervous around her. With a matter-of-fact attitude, and a plethora of opinions just begging to be expressed, my new flatmate was easy company and very down-to-earth.

"I guess there used to be a time when it was considered sophisticated," she said, "but with all the scientific evidence behind it nowadays proving how life-threatening it is? They need to move on and find other ways to look cool."

"It's ingrained in their culture, though, I imagine."

"Shit," she said, an unusual veil of concern falling over her face. "Does your boyfriend smoke?"

Laughing at her evident panic that she'd accidentally offended me, I shook my head.

"No-well, he used to... But not anymore. Not for a while now."

Jasmine nodded in approval and looked visibly relieved. Although her straight-talking personality was refreshing, it was also reassuring to know that she didn't want to offend me with any of her strong opinions.

"Did he stop because you didn't like it, or...?"

I shrugged and began to swirl the liquid around in the prosecco glass. It was something I often did with wine, as an almost subconscious action while thinking, but the narrow flutes didn't lend themselves as easily to my habit. The fizzy liquid sloshed up the sides of the glass, dangerously close to the rim, temporarily distracting me from my line of thought as I placed it firmly down onto the table where I didn't risk wasting any of the cheap-yet tasty-alcohol.

"Erm, no, not exactly," I said, realising it had been a while since she'd asked. "He'd mostly stopped before then. He still smoked occasionally but then stopped completely when he realised I didn't like it."

"That's good. It's nice to think you've had that kind of positive influence on someone. What made him give up originally?"

"He had a bit of a past, but then moved away to escape it all, and I guess that's when he gave it up."

I didn't want to go into too much detail about Nathan's less-than-ideal backstory, for fear of Jasmine changing her overwhelmingly positive opinion of him so far, but she didn't push for any further information. Instead, she nodded slowly and digested what I'd said.

"Yeah, I remember you saying he lived out here. Rome, right?"

"Yeah. Weird how these things work out, isn't it?"

"Super weird. Some would call it fate, others with more common sense would call it a coincidence."

I smiled again at that, staring into the depths of my sparkling prosecco as I considered my own thoughts on the matter. Truth be told, it probably was more of a coincidence than fate, but Jasmine's view of the world did tend to make you reconsider your own initial beliefs.

Despite radiating confidence and total ease with the conversation, she still didn't ask me to expand on Nathan's past, something which I was thankful for. It wasn't that I didn't trust her yet, or that I expected her to judge-she'd proved that she'd never cast judgement over me-but it was nice to know that there were some things that she was happy for me to divulge in my own time. It showed a certain sense of consideration, which was easy to overlook when you were so out-spoken and strongly opinionated.

"If he hadn't changed, do you think you'd still be with him?" Jasmine then asked, her eyes landing on mine. She'd been mindlessly watching the two children but now her attention was back on me.

I pondered her question, thinking hard about it. While Nathan's past was something I'd come to accept, it still made me uneasy to think of him in that way. That was natural, though, I suppose; what girl would be happy imagining her boyfriend taking drugs, smoking his way to black lungs, and having sex with tons of girls?

"I honestly don't know," I replied. "That's the truth. A lot of our relationship has been based on him changing. He's taken a lot of time and effort to prove he's transformed so that he's a decent, honest guy now, and that I should therefore have a reason to trust him. If he hadn't changed then, obviously, he wouldn't have gone out of his way so much to prove how much he values me... But..."

"...But it's weird to think that you might never have gotten together with him?"

"Yeah, very weird," I agreed. "But the Nathan I love is the one who changed, the one who put in all that effort... It was so heart-warming to see and actually made me believe he genuinely did care about me, otherwise why bother? It encouraged me to give him a shot. Maybe I wouldn't have fallen in love with the old one because I wouldn't have had any desire to get to know him. It makes me feel sick to think it, but he'd have been a different person, right?"

Jasmine cocked her head to the side as she considered this. "I suppose it depends what made you fall in love with him. Also, you never know, you might have ended up being the spark that caused him to change."

I smirked. "Isn't that fate?"

She returned my smirk. "I'm sure there's a more scientific, or even romantic, term for it."

I laughed, but the thoughts of a potentially different future still played on my mind. It was true; I did feel sick to imagine that Nathan and I might not have ended up together. Perhaps Jasmine was right, though: maybe we would have met at a different time, and that chemistry would have still been there and caused him to reconsider his carefree ways. Nathan did change on his own accord, after all, because of his sister's accidental pregnancy. All that stuff would still have happened—he'd still have matured eventually—and then hopefully our relationship would still have developed. 

Shaking my head, I took a sip of my prosecco. "Let's change the subject. All this parallel universe stuff blows my mind."

Jasmine laughed. "Sorry. I didn't mean for it to get so deep. I think it's just nice to see that people can turn their lives around. I hate the concept of needing someone to fix you, but love the idea that someone could have the kind of positive influence that encourages you to change on your own accord, you know?"

I shuddered at that. "Absolutely."

"I'm yet to meet Nathan, but I already respect him."

I smiled in appreciation. "I'm sure you'll like him."

"I'm sure I will," she agreed.

If I got along with Jasmine, then Nathan certainly would. There was nothing in particular to dislike about her, although I could see certain people being offended by the strong opinions and promiscuity-but Nathan would never judge her for having an active sex life.

As this thought crossed my mind, another one simultaneously crept in, prompted by our previous conversation and challenging my previous reassurance.

Once upon a time, Nathan shared Jasmine's view of sex, although perhaps for different reasons to hers. Nevertheless, would she remind him of his former self? In a good way, or a bad one?

Nathan had gone from sleeping with multiple girls, to sleeping with just one: me. And now we were in a long-distance relationship, meaning that he'd be getting even less sex than usual. He'd come to visit me, see how Jasmine was still getting plenty of action, and would that make him nostalgic?

Lifting my glass to my lips, I washed down the thought with my prosecco. These were just natural long-distance worries. Of course Nathan would miss the sex; we were used to having regular sex, after all. But I knew I could trust him. I just needed to think of a way to make up for the loss of intimacy...

"What you thinking about?" Jasmine asked.

I fleetingly wondered about lying, but decided against it. If anyone could handle the personal truth, it was her.

"Sex."

Her lips curled into a knowing smile and she raised her glass in toast towards me.

"I know the feeling," she said. 

☀☀☀

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