A Place in the Sun(75)

I was in love with her.

I knew it now, but the trouble came in the fact that it might have been too late.

In the days since my birthday, she’d been distant and aloof, not quite cold, but guarded. Her smiles came slower, more forced. Her thoughts were somewhere else, and though I tried to pull her out of her quiet moods, I knew it wouldn’t work. Georgie was too stubborn for it. Even swimming in the grotto, she’d tried her hardest to keep her distance.

The next day, I went into Il Mare early and spent the day working up on the third floor, but Georgie was M.I.A. I saw Taylor when he arrived back home in the evening.

“Have you seen Georgie around?” I asked.

“Oh, we had breakfast this morning and then she was heading to swim, I think. Did she not tell you?”

I swallowed down my anger that Taylor seemed to know more about the woman I loved than I did.

“No.” I shook my head. “She didn’t tell me.”

I waited for her. I had a plan. The moment I saw her, I would lay down my heart for her, plead with her to stay in Vernazza and share her life with me. I wanted to make up for lost time, to explain to her that my heart wasn’t split in half anymore, that she owned it all.

When darkness fell and I still hadn’t heard her come in, I started to worry.

Why hadn’t she come home?

Why was she trying to avoid me?

I packed up my tools and decided to head up to the villa in case she might have been waiting for me there, though I knew it was a stretch.

During the walk home, I overanalyzed our last few encounters. What if Georgie had finally realized I wasn’t worth the trouble after all? I’d been assuming she’d jump into my arms when I finally told her about moving on from Allie, but what if it was too little, too late? My imagination ran wild with dark thoughts of what my life would turn into if Georgie left. Everything would go back to the way it was before. I’d have Massimo and Katerina, sure, but there was little else.

I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and stood outside, watching the waves crash against the breaker.

In truth, it’d taken me five years to fall in love again. I didn’t let people in easily, and now the woman I wanted more than anything was pushing me away. For good reason, I reminded myself. In recent weeks, I’d taken my sweet time unraveling my feelings, keeping her at arm’s length, trying to work out my baggage before unloading it in her lap.

After that thought, I went back inside for a second beer, then thought better of it and pulled down a dusty bottle of whiskey. I’d stayed away from alcohol after Allie’s death, too scared I would spiral out of control. Now, I needed it. I relished the burn, the physical symptoms that accompanied heartache.

A few shots later, when the edges of my world started to blur, I finally noticed a light on in Georgie’s room at Il Mare. She was home, safe, and though I longed to see her, my drunken state promised disaster if I ran down and tried to explain myself now.

No, I stayed up there, fixed on the hazy yellow glow from her window, preparing for the next morning. There was no way in hell I would just let Georgie walk away from us without showing her that I was ready to move on. At the crack of dawn, I’d march down to Il Mare and make the promises she’d been so desperate to hear from me. I could prove to her that I was ready to move on.

I was ready for strings.





GIANLUCA LEFT AND I couldn’t sit still. I’d been hiding in my room at Il Mare like a coward all evening, even keeping the light off so he wouldn’t know I was there. Pathetic, I know, but now my chocolate reserves were running low and Mopsie was clawing at the door, angry with me for keeping him away from his coveted plush mouse. We all have needs, Mopsie. Mine centered around avoiding Gianluca at all costs.

Tomorrow was a big day.

The biggest day of any big days.

“All right! All right, I’m letting you out,” I said to Mopsie after he’d shot me what could only be described as a menacing glare. I slid off my bed and stood on atrophied knees, pried the door open slowly just in case Gianluca was still hiding somewhere.

He wasn’t, and even Mopsie was a bit sad about that.

Il Mare was eerily quiet and I had half a mind to go up and ask if Taylor fancied some company, but he’d brought home a girl a few hours ago and I doubted they wanted me to join in their love fest. I was shite enough at managing one lover; I didn’t need to add two more.

Truthfully, I had a lot on my mind. Too much. Tomorrow was a big day. Had I mentioned that? Big. Decisions loomed heavy in the distance, and instead of focusing on them like a healthy adult, I cleaned my room. Top to bottom, every single floorboard, every nook and cranny.

I found a leftover lemon candy wrapper in the closet and teared up, even stuffed it into the tiny pocket on my pajama top for safekeeping. Who’s the hoarder now?

I did a load of laundry, and then another. I packed my bag for the next day, wanting to ensure I brought enough things to entertain me. I stuffed a paperback inside, and then thought better of it and put them all in there. No point in leaving any. The lemon candy wrapper went right up at the top. It was a poor substitute for Gianluca himself, but it was better than nothing.

I straightened up the common room, fluffed the pillows, and arranged a vase of flowers on the coffee table.

Everything was set.

At 8:15 AM the next morning, I’d catch a train out of Vernazza, and my whole life would change.