A Place in the Sun(69)

Just then, Georgie crested the top of the mountain. Her cheeks were red with rage and her fists were clamped by her sides. I knew her feet were killing her, but she rushed past like she was on a mission. I reached out to stop her, but she tugged her arm free and shook her head.

“I’m continuing on the trail. I’ll see you at the finish line.”





I’D BECOME THE type of woman I loathed: a spineless git. For months, I’d followed Gianluca around like a sad little puppy, hoping he’d eventually soften his heart and take me home. A part of me had known this all along, but I’d been living in blissful denial up until Katerina had dropped that truth bomb on me in front of everyone.

Did everyone pity me?

Did they all think I was delusional for pining after Gianluca?

God, how embarrassing.

I hadn’t realized I’d become a sideshow attraction, the latest in a long string of women who thought they could sway the cranky recluse. How many had come before me? How many had left Vernazza brokenhearted?

I couldn’t face the group. I didn’t wait for them at the base of the trail; instead I headed straight for the train station and went back to Vernazza. I felt bad, not giving some sort of explanation for where I’d gone, but they’d probably guess I’d gone home.

My emotional torture had momentarily overshadowed the pain from the blisters on my feet, but by the time I unlocked the door to the bed and breakfast, there was no denying it: my body ached as much as my heart.

Mopsie was waiting for me on the other side of the door, offering up a furry toy mouse for me to take. I scooped him up and walked straight to the bathroom, drawing a nice, hot bath. I opened the window, the small one that faced the back alley; it let in the sounds of the sea without compromising my privacy. After a candle was lit and enough lavender-scented bubble bath poured into the warm water, I stripped and stepped in, setting Mopsie down on the tile. He had no desire to get in the water, but he was happy to lie on my warm clothes and resume his main mission in life: sleeping.

I kept the water going until I was nearly submerged, everything in the water but my face. I stared up at the white plaster ceiling and tried to make sense of my situation. Now that I had a bit of distance from her, I didn’t think Katerina was wrong. Her delivery was a bit harsh, but she was being a good friend, trying to watch out for my heart. She wanted me to stay away from Gianluca because it was obvious that I was going to get hurt, and she didn’t want that.

It was too late though. It was like being told to watch your step when you’ve already missed the stair. I should have listened to her earlier because now I was in the worst spot imaginable. I was stuck, so in love with Gianluca that I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe without him. I felt it eating away at me. I was so desperate to keep him that I didn’t pay attention to the warning signs: the sick feeling in my stomach, the tight tug of my heart when he walked out of a room, the twisted thoughts in the back of my mind. I’d completely lost myself in him. I no longer wanted a simple kind of love. I’d settle for nothing short of crazy in love, and the moment Gianluca realized how serious I was about him, how shattered I’d be by the end of us, he would walk away. He had to; he was too much of a good guy to lead me on.

I was due for an explosion any day and the anticipation of it was worse than anything, the slow-rolling despair settling over me. I squeezed my eyes shut and slid farther into the water, wondering how long I could stay before I transformed into a prune.

Argh. I didn’t want to be this in love. It felt like a sort of abuse, and the signs were there. I’d had a row on top of a mountain with my best friend in Vernazza. There were bags under my eyes that never disappeared. I’d lost the will to eat, to care about anything beyond keeping Gianluca. In recent days, I’d been shedding pounds as if I had a few to spare. My emotions were brittle and frayed. I hated who I’d become.

Something had to give, and I was afraid it would be me.



…



I wasn’t in that bath long before I heard the muffled sound of Gianluca calling out to me in the front common room. I’d ruined his birthday, absolutely shat all over it, and he was there, pushing open the bathroom door with a soft knock.

I sat up and turned to look at him over my shoulder, my skin prickling with goosebumps from the cool bathroom air.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and stepped forward, tearing his shirt off overhead. His shorts and boxer-briefs followed, and then he was stepping into the large bath behind me, nearing overflowing the water. We drained a bit, added more hot water, and then I settled against his chest. The nearness killed me: his skin against mine, his lips pressed against my shoulder, his words in my ear, promising me I hadn’t ruined his birthday, that I could never ruin his birthday.

He wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Please don’t cry. Please.”

His kindness tore at me.

I had to tell him the truth.

“I don’t think I can do it, Gianluca. What I said the other night, about keeping things casual…”

“No. No. You and I, we’re more than that, right? I promise. Please don’t listen to Katerina.”

I wanted to believe him. I really wanted to sink into his words and let them swirl around me like the warm bath water, to let them blanket me from the outside world.

And then it sort of clicked: this was how it continued. I would get upset, he would keep stringing me along with little promises of more. A year from now, I would look back on all the tender moments when I’d cowed to him, and I’d wonder how I’d let myself fall into such a one-sided love affair.