* * *
After the pasta and three bottles of wine had been polished off, Fern escaped to her room to unpack. Despite the tiredness washing over her, it felt too early to go to bed, particularly when they were all back together after days apart. She returned to the pool terrace. Chloe and Amber were whispering together, their smiling faces tanned in the warm light of the terrace lamps.
Stella wandered over, hooked her arm in Fern’s and steered her away from the girls.
‘Why are you quiet?’ Stella asked.
‘I’m not.’
‘You are, unusually so.’
Fern drew in a long shuddery breath.
‘What’s up?’
Fern shrugged.
‘Are you regretting missing out on our yacht trip filled with sun, sea and—’
‘I can imagine what your days were filled with. And no.’
‘Did something happen?’
Did something happen? Fern thought. Nothing and everything had happened. Matteo consumed her from the moment she woke, his smiling face beaming into her thoughts, his hazel eyes twinkling mischievously. Everything had been heightened, from the slightest brush of his hand against her skin, to their long chats into the evening where her mind would wander to what it would be like to kiss him. How was it possible for so much to change in just a few days?
‘What’s going on, Fern?’
‘Nothing.’ Her tone was sharper than she meant, but she was worried that Stella would see through her, that she’d cheated on Paul emotionally if not physically… apart from the kiss which she’d cut short. Flustered, she breathed deeply.
She’d never been tempted by someone else. Not in twenty-one years. More than half her life. Yet something had awoken inside her, something more than the feelings of lust she’d had as a free spirit in her teens when she’d believed she was in love with Paul. Did she avoid going out with single friends, Stella in particular, because she feared that she’d be tempted to stray? And on the occasions she did go out, if a guy danced behind her and slid his hands around her waist, the tingle of excitement she’d felt when young and single had been replaced by confusion and worry. She was married with kids, her life far removed from what it once was. And here with Matteo… They’d talked and bared their souls. A look, a touch meant more to Fern than she’d thought possible. How could she begin to convey the way she felt to Stella? Stella who still behaved like they had as teenagers, who’d gone on the yacht to have a good time, and by a good time, Fern knew exactly what she meant.
‘Well,’ Stella said, sighing, ‘if you want to talk, I’m here.’ She patted Fern on the arm as if she was about to leave her to her thoughts, but faltered. ‘Do you know, despite my protestations, I honestly had this romantic notion that I’d come out here and find love. Silly, I know. Maybe it’s because I desperately want to meet the love of my life before anyone knows I have money. And I haven’t yet met the one.’
Fern glanced at her. ‘What about the guys on the yacht?’
‘Oh, I had the time of my life with Luca, but it was nothing more than a bit of fun. Exactly as I expected and exactly the reason you weren’t keen to go. We both knew that was all it was going to be, a few days of enjoying each other.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Now I’m back here and he’s sailed off into the sunset to carry on with his life.’
‘And you’re really okay with that?’ Fern frowned.
‘Yes, absolutely. Do you know, if there’s one thing this holiday has taught me it’s that I’m okay on my own. I never want to compromise on a relationship again and end up tied to someone for the sake of it, all because I don’t want to grow old alone.’
Fern snorted. ‘Is that a dig at me?’
‘God, no. I didn’t mean it that way.’
Except there was something in her tone that suggested she did; Fern assumed she just didn’t have the guts to tell her.