“And if you don’t want to wait for me anymore? If you get tired and fall for someone else?”
Oh, I hated how my voice broke, making me sound like a whiny child. I hated the doubt that burned in my chest and the jealousy at the idea that Rafe could find a woman to replace me. I expected him to tell me to believe in us more, or shake his head with exasperation, but instead, he tipped my chin up and looked deep into my eyes. Within those sooty depths, I found a twinge of sadness that startled me.
“No, Livia. It’s you who may change your mind. I know who I am already, and the life I want here in Positano. I’ve made my choices. But you have more options. You may decide you don’t want such a simple life here with me, when you can have so much more. Be so much more.” He dropped his gaze and paused. “It’s happened before.”
I frowned. “What’s happened?”
His shoulders lifted in a half shrug. “I was dating someone seriously two years ago. I met her on a tour-boat trip with her friends. She was attending university in Napoli.”
Jealousy clawed at my insides. Knowing Rafe had once loved someone before me hurt, but I also realized I couldn’t voice the feelings. Then I’d look like some crazy American trying to erase his past to make myself feel better. He deserved someone more mature than that.
So, I fought the poison back and remained calm. “What happened between you?”
“We managed to make it work for a while. I juggled my work schedule with her college classes. Naples isn’t too far. But she wanted to transfer to Milano—her dreams were to work with fashion. It became harder to see each other, and eventually, she got frustrated with me.”
“Because you couldn’t see her enough?”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “No, because she was leaving me behind. She liked the vibrant, crowded cities and didn’t want to settle here. Didn’t want me to run a tour boat with my father. She asked me to enroll in college with her to start a brand-new career. I did not want that. Yes, many of my friends have gone on to have exciting jobs and travel. But I have never dreamed of that type of life. Perhaps something is lacking inside me. An ambition or need for more.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Outrage flowed through me. “She wanted you to change, Rafe, but refused to compromise. Why should wanting to stay in this beautiful place, with your family, not be enough? Everyone has different dreams. We shouldn’t judge.”
A faint smile curved his lips. “She did. Maybe she was right.”
My heart broke for him. I reached out and stroked his rough cheek. “I’m so sorry, but maybe she didn’t love you enough. She wanted things for herself. She was selfish.”
He raised his chin and looked at me. Beneath the sadness was a fear I didn’t understand, a knowledge that challenged my statement and made a shiver course down my spine. “No, she just couldn’t imagine herself with me in the future. Most women don’t want such a simple life, dolcezza.”
“What do you dream of, then?” I whispered.
His voice deepened with passion. “A great love who becomes my wife. Children. A simple, fulfilling life on the water, in the home where my great-great-grandparents lived. Not what most Americans would want. Who can blame them?”
I shook with the need to convince him he was wrong. I wanted everything he dreamed of. To be away from the trappings that eventually withered a marriage like my parents’. To be free to sketch and write and love on my own terms.
“You’re wrong, Rafael. Because I want those things more than I can explain. Nothing is ever going to change. We belong together and I will always choose you.”
Heat blasted from his gaze. His jaw clenched as if he was desperate to hide his emotions. “Livia.”
The tortured rip in his voice moved me to pull him down close and kiss him, trying to allow my body to convince him this wasn’t a passing fling or a summer crush. An image of us together, sailing on his boat, making a life together in this perfect Italian town, caused my insides to light up with joy. He kissed me back, and we were caught up in the moment. Caught in the possibilities of true love and happy endings and a place where the ugliness of the world could never touch us.
It was only much later that I learned how wrong we both were.
chapter fourteen
Bailey
“That was fun. Not,” Dev muttered as they reached the top of the hill by their cottage. “God, my body feels like if the Goodyear blimp and Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory had a baby. Why is it an insult to Italians to be full?”
Bailey couldn’t help laughing. “You’re not purple,” she pointed out. “And I think they were excited to have company to fuss over. They were really sweet.”
“Yes, but Roberto was not our mysterious R,” Pris said. “It may be harder than I thought to track him down. He could have moved, or died.”
“Or used a fake name,” Dev added. She leaned forward and put her palms on her knees. “When I get home, I’m joining a gym. It’s embarrassing. That old guy passed me on the steps and gave me a pitiful look that screamed tourist.”
“If we used the house, we wouldn’t be tourists,” Bailey said. “We can have Positano as part of Mom’s heritage. I think we really need to talk about this. I don’t want to sell.”
Her sister straightened up and shot her a glare. “Of course you don’t. In your mind, this is a romantic getaway and Mom’s hideout. But we need to be practical here. This could sell for a crapload of money and we can have it in our accounts for the future. Let’s be smart and not emotional.”
Bailey softened her voice. “Maybe it’s not wrong to be emotional sometimes. It doesn’t always have to be weakness, Dev. I think Mom wanted us to have this place. It was special to her.”
Dev jerked her head. “Pris, what about you?”
Once again, her oldest sister seemed torn between picking sides. She was the steady peacemaker, the final vote, and the only one able to navigate the strained relationship between them. Bailey was tired of it. She’d already lost Mom, and she had to find a way to repair this relationship with Dev on her own.
“I think we should wait the week out and make a decision then,” Pris said. “Both of you have good points. Let’s see how we feel then.”
Dev seemed satisfied with the answer, and they headed toward the cottage. Darkness had fallen and the evening was alive with heady floral scents, the soft chirps of insects, and the shower of stars high in the sky. The moon was a thin sliver of orange-gold, a tiny peek of light hovering over the cottage like a guidepost. As they drew closer, Bailey squinted and caught a towering figure a few steps from the porch. Head tipped back, hands propped on his hips, he seemed to be staring at the roof. Soft mutters echoed in the air.