A Place in the Sun(61)

It felt so miserable sitting there and pretending Gianluca and I were complete strangers. We were acting as though nothing had ever happened between us, good or bad, and the longer the night continued, the angrier I became. Why had he even bothered coming? Surely Massimo had told him I’d be here. He couldn’t come round to collect his tools, but he could come out and ruin the mood of the entire group? Well, I suppose he was only ruining my mood, which was admittedly not filled with sunshine to begin with. Everyone else was continuing on with their night like there wasn’t this massive elephant in the room, but I couldn’t do it. I handed my still-full beer to Katerina and went to find the loo. I suspected Gianluca might follow after me, but he didn’t. I queued forever, went in to wash my hands, and then went back to the group. Gianluca wasn’t there when I returned; Katerina pointed to the bar, where he and Massimo were talking animatedly.

“Are you upset that he’s here?” she asked in a hushed tone. “Because we can leave if you want.”

I shook my head, trying to play the role of the cool girl. If Gianluca could sit in a group and face me, then I would show him that I wouldn’t go running off either.

A little while later everyone decided to migrate to a restaurant down the street for a late-night meal. I stuck close to Katerina and Paolo pulled Gianluca ahead, going on about some work that needed to be done at the farm. I wanted to shout at him, shake him, shove him, something. I needed to know what he was thinking, how the last few days had been for him. Was he missing me or was he glad to have the separation?

There was only one restaurant in Corniglia still open and they didn’t have much room for a group our size. They put us at a few tables outside, pushing them together so we’d all fit. I took a seat in the middle, silently daring Gianluca to take the seat beside me, but Paolo and Katerina swooped in first and I stifled a groan. Gianluca pulled out the chair at the head of the table and an overwhelmed waiter went round to pass out menus to everyone. I ordered an orange juice, too anxious to munch on anything of substance, but Katerina promised me I could nibble on her pasta.

Every few minutes, I’d work up the courage to glance over at Gianluca, and going on looks alone, he was as miserable as I was—beautifully miserable. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled into a tight frown, like he was trying to work something out in his head. He noticed me staring once and I whipped my head to the other side of the table quick enough that I hoped he hadn’t noticed. No doubt I’d strained something in my neck.

“Georgie, how is the building? Il Mare?” Sofia asked from across the table. Her English was clouded by a beautiful Italian accent, and though her words were a bit choppy, it wasn’t hard to decipher what she meant.

“It’s nearly finished. We have our first guest coming tomorrow.”

Her eyes lit up. “Stupefacente!”

I could feel Gianluca’s attention on me just before the food arrived, and everyone turned to their meals, eating as though they’d starved themselves all day. There was talk of continuing the party at Katerina’s flat, but I was exhausted from wearing a mask for the last few hours. I stayed noncommittal, planning on taking the train back with everyone but escaping to my room when we reached Vernazza. Gianluca kept silent, and I suspected he was planning on going to the after-party and would be glad when he realized I’d bailed. But then, when we all piled into the last train back to Vernazza, Gianluca took the seat beside me before anyone else could. I stiffened and stared out the window, desperate for an escape from the harsh fluorescent lighting of the train.

“I think we should talk,” he said, bending low to whisper the words against my hair. His voice sent a shiver down my spine. That voice had driven me to highs more times than I could count and I squeezed my eyes closed, willing the memories to pass. I swallowed down the emotion bubbling inside of me, but it was futile. He was so close to me then, his thigh pressed against mine, his scent wrapped around me.

I nodded, reviewing the conclusions I’d arrived at in the days since we last spoke. I knew Gianluca wasn’t ready for love—would never be ready for love—but that didn’t erase my feelings, my love. I could pretend things were casual. I could tell him he meant less to me than he really did if it meant things could go back to the way they were before.

I couldn’t go on like this, pretending I was all right. I needed to have him so desperately I’d accept whatever he had to offer. I’d take his body and his time and allow Allie to reign in his heart. I’d keep my judgements to myself. I’d laugh and smile and give him a happy-go-lucky version of myself if only it meant I could drag him back to that room at Il Mare and feel his weight on top of me again, his mouth on my thighs, his hands on my breasts, his moans against my ear.

There was a sort of power in deciding to keep things casual. It meant there’d be no more surprises. He wasn’t meant to be my forever, but forever was a long way away. I could live in the moment and soak him in while I was still able to, right?

I stayed quiet the rest of the ride home, trying to work out my words in my head. We waved goodbye at the train station and I promised to see Katerina for dinner the next day. Gianluca and I set off and there was thick silence in the air. Eventually, as we rounded the corner into the square, I just dove right in, as if we were in the middle of a conversation.

“We got so heavy so fast, didn’t we? We were cooped up in that bed and breakfast so long, and we both had needs, and we just didn’t give ourselves enough time to define the boundaries. There was no need for me to freak out like I did when I woke up and found Al…Allie’s stuff.” I wasn’t sure what it would feel like to talk about her openly with him, to say her name. I didn’t like the taste of it, but I tried to keep my face neutral. “I’ll admit, I had no right to freak out like I did. You—”