Anyway, the past was the past. Why did it matter so much what we did or did not say to each other then? We were herenow. We had the second chance I had always craved.
I burrowed my face into her neck, breathing in the scent of her, her perfume that smelled like bitter orange and cloves, the hair product she used that lingered on my skin whenever she had been near me. I tilted her chin so that her eyes met mine.
‘Let us enjoy this for what it is. It is impossible to knowwhat will come, to predict what will happen in the future,’ I said.
She ran her hand underneath my shirt, sending shivers shooting up and down my spine. It was like she was opening herself up to me, I could feel it happening in real time. Then she took my hand and led me to the bed, laying down and pulling me on top of her, our fingers entwined above her head. She smiled at me.
‘This feels different,’ she said.
I nodded. ‘I know.’
I was not sure if she meant different from the last time we had slept together, or different from being with anybody else, but either way I was in agreement. ‘Except that this time you have far too many clothes on,’ I teased.
I began to unbutton her jeans with a focused intensity, needing to run my hands over the silky soft skin I knew was beneath them. I tried to ease them down her body, but they would not come easily and I was becoming increasingly impatient.
‘I am going to have rip these right off you,’ I groaned as she wriggled beneath me, trying get them down, too. ‘Do not worry, I will buy you new ones.’
She half-laughed, half-gasped as I gave one huge yank and they finally slid down her legs. She kicked them off over her feet, revealing a delicate white lace underwear set that sent my body temperature soaring on the spot.
‘I wore these especially for you,’ she whispered, as I flipped her on top of me, caressing her thighs as shestraddled me, groaning at the glorious sight of her mostly naked body.
‘Such a shame you have to take them off, too,’ I said, helping her out of them, dragging off the remainder of my own clothes. Our breath was fast and ragged, the need between us becoming almost unbearable.
I had never been this turned on in my life.
The second she had slipped a condom onto me, her hands deft and warm, I guided her into place, crying out with pleasure as I moved effortlessly inside of her. I knew that I could never, ever get enough of this, no matter how many lazy afternoons in bed we might spend together.
Afterwards, she lay in my arms and I stroked her hair as her breathing softened and stilled. It was all so idyllic that I was beyond irritated when my phone rang, shattering the comfortable silence we had been languishing in. I wished I had turned the thing off, but I had heard it now, and I could not un-hear it. It’s just that I had never realized being with someone after sex could feel so good. That staying with them, keeping the connection alive, holding them, letting them stroke their hand up and down your stomach so delicately. It instantly made me feel as though I was less alone in the world.
Reluctantly, I reached out my hand, sliding my phone off the bedside table and glancing at the screen. It was my mother calling. I could hardly speak to her now, butt naked and with Lira splayed across my chest. I let it ring out.
But within seconds she was ringing me again and I knew, instinctively, that something was wrong. I eased Lira gently off me.
‘Sorry,’ I whispered. ‘I should take this.’
I sat up, swinging my legs off the side of the bed, simultaneously answering my phone. For some reason, I felt the need to get up, to pace around the hotel room.
‘Hey, Mama,’ I said.
For a few seconds, all I could hear was Mama’s breathing. Heavy, laboured.
‘Mama, what is wrong?’ I demanded to know.
‘It’s your father,’ she said. ‘He’s in the hospital, I’m here with him now. They say he’s had a heart attack, Gabriele.’
She dissolved into tears; big, wracking sobs that I was almost sure Lira would be able to hear. I looked over my shoulder and, sure enough, she was watching me with a look of concern in her eyes.
‘Mama, it will be okay,’ I said, keeping my voice low and reassuring, even if I knew that what I was about to say could well be a lie. ‘He will be fine. He is in the best place. The doctors are with him now. They will fix this.’
‘He was out in the vineyard,’ sobbed Mama. ‘I was at home, preparing dinner. He would have been finishing up, about to head home. I heard shouting outside and when I looked out of the window I saw him, crumpled on the ground. Gio was screaming for help.’
Gio worked on the farm with Papa; he had been with usfor years. It must have been a shock for him, too, to have seen Papa like that.
I heard Mama talking to someone in the background. From what I could make out, it was a doctor, asking her to come somewhere.
‘I have to go,’ said my mother, sounding calmer, although perhaps it was that she had no tears left. ‘The doctor wants to speak to me.’
‘Call me straight afterwards,’ I said. ‘I want to know exactly what he said. If you need me to, I can get on a flight tonight.’
