An Italian Dream

‘Yes, but not just because of him. It’s my own doing. My unhappiness comes from my inability to accept what I’ve feared is really going on. It feels like such a huge decision to make after twenty years together – to walk away. I’m not sure what’s stopping me – fear, I guess, or worry that I won’t cope. I think I’ve been scared of ripping up my life and going it alone, although the irony is, I constantly feel alone.’ A familiar feeling of upset washed over her, manifesting itself as a lump in her throat. The idea of breaking free was as scary as staying. ‘I’ve been pretending for a long time that it’s better to keep our family together, but it’s making me miserable.’

‘You need to learn to live again. You deserve happiness; we all do.’ He gazed off into the moon-bathed distance. ‘If he doesn’t care for you or treat you right, why stay?’ He turned back.

‘Because it’s all I’ve ever known.’

A breeze drifted across the decking. Fern shivered.

‘It’s fresh tonight,’ Matteo said. ‘Let’s go inside.’

The moment was broken.

Matteo didn’t take her hand, accentuating her sense of loneliness as they walked back towards the pooling light of the terrace beneath the pergola.

They cleared the table in a couple of trips to the large kitchen with its curved ceiling and flagstone floor. It didn’t take them long to stack the dishwasher. At the retreat in Capri, staff looked after them, Matteo included, but here he mucked in. It was his home after all, even if it was a place fit for a king. Stefano and Teresa ran the place, but he wasn’t waited on. She liked that. She also liked that he didn’t try to push her further about Paul. Nor did he question her decision to not take things further after their kiss, or try to talk her into doing something she knew she shouldn’t. Not because Paul deserved her faithfulness, but because she’d taken a vow and the last twenty years needed to stand for something. She needed to be the one to hold her head high. She needed to be the better person, because deep down she knew her husband wasn’t.

It had been a long day that had started off in Anacapri with her thinking she was returning to the villa to see Stella and the girls. The last thing she’d imagined she’d be doing was ending it alone with Matteo at his Tuscan home.

They left the kitchen and wandered through the sprawling main building of the old monastery to her room. They stopped outside. They’d talked a lot, but there were still things Fern wanted to say to him, but couldn’t.

His hands glided down her bare arms. He leaned closer and kissed her gently on each cheek, perhaps lingering a heartbeat longer than a friend would… She wished she could take hold of him and kiss him properly.

‘Buona notte, Fern.’

‘Buona notte.’ She tore her eyes away from his, retreated into her room and closed the door.

All the dark thoughts that plagued her back home had been replaced by the worry of doing the right thing, even if it meant misery. Not that she felt miserable right this minute, just confused. She was feeling a lot of things, emotions that had been quashed for years.

She turned on the bedside lamp. The curtains were drawn across the large oval window. The muted, earthy colours had a soothing effect, from the chalky-coloured flagstones and the saffron-yellow bedspread to the natural stone walls and the dark wooden beams. Candles and cushions littered the two steps that led up to the fireplace, the focal point of the room. She imagined how cosy it would be in the depths of winter with a fire crackling in the hearth. She sighed and shivered again. The temperature had dropped and she longed to get into the tempting warmth of the bed. She washed, changed quickly and slipped beneath the heavy covers.

Sleep evaded her. Fern spread out, playing the day over and over. The room was dark, with only a sliver of moonlight creeping through a gap in the curtains. The thick stone walls kept the place remarkably cool, so she was grateful for the warm bedspread. Her mind wandered to other ways of keeping warm. Matteo was just along the hall, alone in his bed. She couldn’t get him out of her head, thinking of what they could be doing right now… Nothing good would come of tormenting herself about what might have been if things were different.