I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling fresco, a romantic scene fit for a bedroom, and feel the ache run bone-deep.
It’s not just the alcohol, the lack of sleep. It’s her. I miss her.
And if I’m honest I can’t imagine my life without her in it...yet today she leaves.
Cazzo. I throw back the covers that still smell so sweet of her and thrust up out of bed. I hit the shower and pray it will clear the fog in my head, the ache in my body and make today...easy.
Because it should be easy. The wedding was a success, the guests all depart today and I’ll have my new home to myself. Time to enjoy it while getting back to business as usual.
But I’m still mentally coaching myself an hour later when I’m pacing the hallway and resisting the urge to go to Faye’s room and ask... And ask what, exactly?
Don’t leave?
Stay a little longer?
Let’s have sex a little longer?
Let’s have fun?
Because, let’s face it, I’m not about to offer more. I can’t.
‘Morning, Rafael.’
I spin on the spot and I see my mother coming towards me. Sans make-up and grinning widely.
‘I’m glad I caught you. Can we talk?’
‘Si, Mamma.’
She stalls, her eyes glisten and I realise what I’ve done. I’ve called her Mamma for the first time in too many years to count.
She lifts her hands to my cheeks and her smile softens. ‘Mio amata figliolo.’
My beloved son.
The words resonate through me, out of me. My own eyes spike and, Gesù, I don’t cry. I don’t. But it’s choking up through my chest, stinging the backs of my eyes.
‘Grazie,’ she says. ‘For this week, for this wedding. You have been the most incredible son, the most incredible big brother to Dani and you would have made your father proud...so proud.’
I feel her fingers tremble against my cheeks and I can’t answer her. My voice is trapped in the tightness of my chest.
‘I want you to know that Giovanni and I...’
Her voice trails off as her eyes probe mine, looking for encouragement, perhaps. Encouragement that I’m happy to give.
‘It’s okay, Mamma. I understand and I want you to be happy. It’s all Dani and I could want for you.’
Her eyes spill over, the tears trailing down her cheeks as her fingers tremble more. ‘Grazie, figliolo. Grazie.’
I sense movement to our left and look to see Faye turning away. ‘Faye!’
She stops and turns to us, her smile apologetic.
I look back to my mother and she is smiling all the more now. ‘I want you to be happy too, Rafael. Go. Speak to Faye.’
Her eyes are all-knowing, and I frown as it puts the fear of God in me. I’m not about to... Does she think I’m...?
It doesn’t matter what she thinks. Just speak to Faye and say what you planned to say.
Which is what, exactly?
I wait for Rafael to catch me up. Yes, I left in the middle of the night—or the early hours of the morning, depending on how you want to look at it—but I didn’t want this conversation. I didn’t want to succumb to the inner pressure that’s begging me to ask for more. Because how much more can this man truly offer?
I’m not so deluded as to think myself capable of changing him. I’m better to cut my losses and run.
‘Hi,’ I manage to say calmly.
‘Morning. You left before...’
My eyes lift to his and I see the hesitancy in his expression. My stomach flutters, my heart too, every bit of me so attuned to him and his alien uncertainty.
‘I was... I was trying to make goodbye easier.’
‘By leaving before we could talk?’
I frown at him. What is there to say other than what we already know: that this is over? And I know we can’t have this conversation in the middle of the entrance hall. I move into a side room that looks as though it was once a library and hear him follow.
‘I wanted to leave on a high.’ I try to sound cheerful as I turn to face him. ‘It was a fabulous day, and a perfect night! We don’t need to spoil it with...’
My nonchalant shrug fails miserably and he reaches out, his hand gentle on my arm.
‘Then let’s not spoil it with goodbye.’
I laugh breathlessly. ‘It is goodbye, Rafael. I fly back to England today and you go back to your life, wherever that may take you.’
‘You could stay longer; you could stay here with me. I’d like it if you stayed.’
My heart races in my chest, too excited, too hopeful.
‘You’d like me to stay?’
He nods swiftly.
‘In your Tuscan castle, just me and you?’
‘Si, cara mia.’ He is so sincere. ‘I want you to stay with me, Faye.’
‘And in a month or two?’ I force myself to ask. ‘What then?’
He frowns, pales even.
‘And a year? What then, Rafael?’
His frown deepens. ‘Don’t push me, Faye.’
‘Don’t push you for more?’ My eyes widen, pressing him to admit what he cannot give. Pressing him to admit what I need to hear.
‘I want you to stay.’
‘And I want you to commit to more.’
He shakes his head.
‘Why didn’t you want Dani and Tyler to marry?’
‘What’s that got to do—?’
‘Just tell me. It’s quite clear how much they love one another.’
‘You know why.’ He studies me intently as his shoulders sag and his hand falls away to rake through his hair. ‘Why do we have to discuss it?’
‘I want you to explain it to me. I want to hear it from you.’
He eyes me carefully and eventually speaks. ‘I’ve told you before. Love isn’t something you can control. It doesn’t guarantee you happiness. It isn’t a certainty. And, when it’s taken from you, it has the power to ruin you, to destroy you and make you...make you bitter, twisted, lost...’
‘Like your mother was?’
He swallows. ‘Si.’
‘And now? Do you still feel the same after seeing your mother with Giovanni? After seeing Tyler and Dani so happy?
