We get onto the ferry and sit on the open-air deck as we depart Naples and head toward a new city in this foreign country. He wraps his arm around me and kisses my forehead as the wind whips through our hair.
He takes a bunch of photos of us with Naples behind us, and as we arrive at Sorrento, he takes some more of the city high on the ridge.
As we step off the boat, the sun is still bright in the late afternoon sky. We take a seat at a café on the central piazza and sit side by side as we drink wine and people-watch while listening to an instrumental version of “Volare” coming from inside the café. There’s a stray dog walking around, so Zack calls him over and pets him like he’s his own.
“This is crazy,” he says as he leans forward with his wine in hand.
I place a hand under my chin and wait for him to continue watching as his eyes dance over the scene before us—the atmosphere, the people, the food, the wine …
“Yesterday, we were in San Francisco. This morning, I woke up in Naples, and now, we’re in Sorrento.”
“It’s incredible, right?” I beam.
“Yes. Exciting to see the different parts of the world. To taste the food and listen to the language”—he leans back in his seat and lets out a sigh—“experience the culture. I can get used to a siesta.”
I hit him in the arm. “Look at you, getting all the fiery passion of a traveler. I knew you’d love it.”
“I love it because of my travel companion. You’re easy to be with.”
I blush. “Thank you. It means a lot to me that you’re here.” I take his hand and hold it in mine. “Can I get cheesy for minute?”
He grins. “Go for it.”
“It just … it feels like you’re supposed to be here. Traveling with me. In Italy. Do you believe in fate?”
He lets in a breath and then exhales deeply. “Honestly? I’ve thought a lot about fate over the years. I didn’t believe in it. The idea of something happening because its destiny seemed like bullshit. But”—he taps his finger on the table—“you left.”
I open my mouth to say something, and he halts me with his finger.
“I was angry when you did. Nothing about that seemed like it was meant to be. Then, I met Natalie, and she got pregnant. I was angry with how everything had turned out. I was pissed at myself.”
A deep sigh exits his lips and then is replaced with a smile. “Luke. When he was born, it all clicked. He is fate. He is the reason it all happened. If you hadn’t left, then he wouldn’t be here, and I do not want to know what a world without him is. So, to answer your question, I do believe in fate. I believe that you leaving gave me Luke.”
“And now?” I ask with a hopeful expression.
He leans an elbow on the table as he reaches over with his other arm around my back. “I know that fate is what put us in the Uber together.”
I smile. God, do I smile as I lean in and kiss him.
As the sun begins to set, the police move the planters that line the roads into the middle of the streets to block the traffic.
Zack gives me a questioning eye as to why they’d be doing such a thing.
“You’ll see,” I tell him.
And when the next hour passes and the sun sets over the Mediterranean, he finally sees what I’m talking about.
At night, Sorrento comes to life.
The streets are closed to traffic, and pedestrians take over the roads, walking about as cafés urge you to take a seat and music plays on the corners.
We walk until we find a restaurant with a menu we like, and luckily, there’s an accordion player serenading us. We take a seat outside and eat branzino and calamari and a pizza appetizer for Zack because he never seems to get full.
We laugh and sing and eat and drink. It’s quite possibly the best meal I’ve ever had in my entire life. Mostly because of the man sitting across the table from me.
After dinner, we walk toward a club where the sound of English pop music can be heard outside. We enter, and it’s dark and hypnotic with laser lights and a smoke machine. There aren’t many people since it’s still pretty early, but we don’t care.
I leave my backpack at the table when Zack asks me to dance. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my body to his and sway my hips, letting loose on the dance floor with him.
We kiss, and we move.
We caress, and we dance.
We melt into a passionate serenade of two people who act like there hasn’t been ten years lost between them.
A slower song plays, and we move with the music. My hands glide up his torso, feeling every ridge and bump of his defined body. He lets his hands cascade down my back and grip my ass.
As my fingers dance their way up his arm, I play with the line of the hummingbird on his arm.
“You never told me what your tattoos mean,” I say, moving up to one of the intricate designs of a cross.
“Which do you want to know about?” He leans back with me still in his arms.
I push the sleeve of his T-shirt up and glance at the image of a tulip and a rose woven together. “The flowers. What are they?”
“The tulip is for my father. It represents Parkinson’s. The rose is for my mother.”
I glide down to the cross and trace the scrolls at the ends. “This one?”
“It’s for Saint Luke. The scrolls are an image of a bull inside the cross.”
Moving down to the hummingbird, I touch the wings that are spread out in flight. “And this?” I ask, looking up.
His blue eyes soften as he stares down at me and declares, “That one’s for you.”
My brows curve, both in surprise and confusion. I look back at it and then up at him.
“A hummingbird is not only beautiful, but it is the symbol of the pursuit of our dreams. It can travel up to two thousand miles to reach its destination. That is you. My hummingbird.”
My breath hitches at what this means.
“You got this after I left?” I ask.
“If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to be,” he says, pulling me close. His deep gaze sears into me with more conviction than any look he’s ever given. “I wanted you to come back to me, Jolene. I dreamed of it. And you did. You came back.”
I take his shirt and pull him to me, our mouths close and yet not touching. “I wanted to come back, Zack. I was always thinking of a way to come back to you.”
His hand caresses my face and pulls me into him. “What am I going to do now that I have you?”
“Make love to me,” I breathe, and his eyes close.
“I can’t wait until we get back to Naples,” he groans.
I let out a wicked grin. “Well then, it’s a good thing I booked us a hotel room in Sorrento for the night.”
“Thank Christ,” is the last thing he says before he pulls me off the dance floor and grabs my backpack.
We rush out of the club and down the road. I lead him to the corner toward the hotel, but he pulls me back, kissing me under the lights in the middle of a crowded street.
When we get to the entrance, it’s my turn to grope him against the side of the building and have my way with his mouth and tongue and tease and taste him.
The man at the reception desk takes an impossibly long time to get us a key, and when he does, we’re rushing toward the elevator. It isn’t coming fast enough, so we take the stairs, stopping on stairwells and landings to kiss and feel each other up.