Page 54 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

Following a stone path through twisted, silver olive trees, Sophie followed Andreas up the steep slope. Marniga was only a cluster of clay roofs below them, the belltower of the church of San Giovanni Battista a bright white in the sunlight. Heat shimmered over the lake, the mountains appearing to snooze in a delicate haze.

Nothing moved except a bird of prey – a falcon or a kite, she wasn’t certain – soaring and swooping in the updraft. The hillside glistened with the freshness of spring before the sweltering summer.

‘A ghost village,’ he replied with a grin. ‘Have you ever organised a wedding for supernatural enthusiasts?’

‘No, but Reshma has. Sometimes, I think she’s seen it all, when it comes to weddings – except her own, of course.’

‘She’s not married?’

Sophie shook her head. ‘None of us are, except Tita. But luckily, places like this do our advertising for us.’ She paused to take a breath of the grassy freshness of the air, with a hint of pine.

‘What was your wedding like?’

Her gaze whipped back to him, but he wasn’t looking at her. His tone was neutral – carefully neutral.

‘I’m not judging you,’ he continued mildly, taking his cap off and settling it on his head again after rubbing at his hair. ‘I’m trying to… You’re obviously good at what you do and it’s important – very important to your clients. I’m sorry I was dismissive. You and weddings hit a nerve and my reaction reflected more on me than on you.’

She was speechless for several seconds and had to scramble to catch up with him when he continued ambling uphill, his boots scuffing on the white stones.

‘Thank you,’ she responded. ‘I didn’t mean to touch that nerve.’

He glanced at her ruefully and she had the reckless thought that shedidwant to touch that nerve. She wanted to get into his system and ruffle them all up, make him feel something he wasn’t ready for. But he wouldn’t let her and she was worried about untangling it all when he put distance between them again.

‘So, what was it? A grand affair with two hundred guests in a quaint farmhouse in Somerset? Or a chic hotel in Bath? Or did you have a commitment ceremony too?’

Sophie grimaced. ‘Well, it was in the Guildhall in Bath, but we just sat in the registry office with our parents and my sister and went to the pub afterwards.’ The familiar stab of grief accompanied the explanation.

‘You didn’t want a big wedding?’

‘Of course I did,’ she admitted. There was only one way to explain herself and perhaps it was better to mention it and move on, so she rushed into it before she could get stuck in her tangle of feelings. ‘We didn’t have much time to plan it. I got pregnant while we were engaged and… But we… And then… I miscarried, but we had the date booked and thought it was best…’

With a snort that was still preferable to a sob, she swiped at her eyes and stomped ahead before he fully comprehended that she’d had the most miserable wedding in history – before she did something stupid like fall apart in his arms.

‘Sophie.’ The shock in his voice stopped her. Several tears fell and she couldn’t stop them. Then he enveloped her in his arms, his arms that seemed perfect for hugging, even though she knew they existed to drag him safely up mountains. ‘I’m sorry.’

She gave half a shrug and forced herself to let go of him. It wasn’t his grief. ‘We always said we’d celebrate the wedding properly one day – I’d plan it to be perfect. And then we’d start a family – on purpose this time. But I got so busy at work. Probably, I was trying to deal with the… loss the only way I knew how. We never did either of those things. We just got Betsy – our dog. It’s kind of strange how easily the marriage was erased at the end, without even any photos of me in a white dress. But I still… Maybe I hung onto the marriage for too long because it was all I had to remember the… Oh,shit.’

Now she was bawling in earnest, batting away Andreas’s hands as he tried to comfort her.

‘It’s fine,’ she said, her voice as wobbly as her steps. ‘I mean, it’s fine that it’s not fine. You didn’t know I’d lost… someone and I didn’t—’ She cut herself off. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to express that part.

‘You didn’t what?’

His voice was so gentle, so unlike the defensiveness that had been the hallmark of their reunion, that she allowed the words to tumble out. ‘I didn’t realise how much pain you were in after Miro died.’

He froze, a flicker of surprise in his eyes – and uncertainty. ‘I didn’t think you?—’

‘Your mum mentioned something, but don’t blame her. Maybe I should have—’ The end of every sentence felt like a trap.

‘You thought we’d broken up. I get it now.’ He seemed to understand more than she did. ‘I wish I’d— I don’t know. Been there for you?’

She blinked, his words prickling over her. ‘It wasn’t your baby, Andreas,’ she blurted out, grimacing when the sentence felt bald and hurtful. She hadn’t intended that.

‘I know, but… Ach, forget it. I’m just sorry. If you want a family so much, I wish it had worked out.’

‘It’s not that I’m desperate for a baby,’ she said bluntly. ‘At least, not just any baby. Butthatbaby will always feel absent. I couldn’t just go out and replace him or her and maybe that was part of the problem. I don’t think you could understand.’

‘Maybe not,’ he said grimly.

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