Page 72 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

Taking another sip of her floral white wine, she allowed her shoulders to sink against the seat and watched the last glow of daylight fade on the peaks of Monte Baldo across the lake. The water was still and dark. There were no white sails cutting across in the wind; the hydrofoil and the big traghetto ferry were docked for the night.

Lily and Roman would make their promises to each other in an unforgettable ceremony, one way or another. And Sophie admitted to herself where she most wanted to spend the night, now it was eight o’clock and she had no hotel booked.

‘I thought you weren’t even supposed to climb a ladder if you’re pregnant,’ Lily said with a frown.

‘A fall from a ladder is more serious than slipping while using via ferrata safety kit,’ Andreas told her.

‘Really? That’s kind of cool,’ Roman commented. ‘What about the expeditions you do, though? How dangerous is it really to climb Everest?’

Sophie sat up, leaning her elbows on the table to watch him closely. When he glanced at her, she knew he was thinking about the baggage between the two of them, his guilt about his family and his way of life.

‘The danger is part of the attraction,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘No, not the attraction, the purpose.’ He studied his hands, before closing them into fists. ‘The struggle is the point – to struggle and achieve something and be the tiny spot of a human being that you really are in all the space and time around you. If it was easy, if there was no cost, you wouldn’t get that perspective.’

Roman and Lily stared, their food forgotten. Then all of a sudden, Lily burst into tears. Roman was out of his chair in an instant, crouching next to her and draping his arm around her. ‘Shhhh, sweetheart,’ he crooned softly, his mouth against her forehead, and Sophie had to look away before her own eyes pricked.

‘That is’ – she hiccoughed – ‘exactly the feeling I had about our wedding. Our lives are short – small – and they could end at any moment. But if we put in the effort together, we can make something beautiful.’

Those should have been Sophie’s words. She was a marriage celebrant after all. But she was grappling with her mistakes, some of which she was only just realising she’d made. What right did she have to espouse the beauty of marriage when she’d wanted to rush into one that neither of them were ready for and when she’d actually got married, it had been for the wrong reasons.

‘Maybe Andreas should be a marriage celebrant,’ Sophie said lightly, catching his dubious glance at her. ‘Maybe he will cry at your wedding after all.’ Except she understood now that he wouldn’t – she’d lose the bet along with any lingering, stupid feelings. He wouldn’t let anyone close, even her, even though he’d tried to insist he felt something for her.

Maybe she could finally accept that – and they could enjoy what little time they had and the chemistry that had been one of the highlights of her life, without her agonising over losing it forever.

After dinner, they strolled back to the hotel between the olive trees and the old walls on the waterfront, vestiges of the historic Limonaie, greenhouses used in the past to grow lemons at this northern latitude. Waving Lily and Roman inside, Andreas shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to Sophie, apparently expecting a farewell.

‘Is that why you go up?’ she asked instead. ‘You need to find perspective?’

‘Maybe,’ he answered after a long moment simply studying her. ‘There are no logical reasons to climb a mountain. I know that. But without it, I’m… a bit lost. That scares me more than dying in pursuit of a summit.’

‘It takes a big man to admit he’s scared,’ she said with a smile.

‘Only a stupid man pretends he isn’t,’ he replied with a snort.

‘Perhaps you’re just more aware of it than most people,’ she mused. ‘Taking your life into your own hands at a young age must have given you an interesting education.’

‘I was certainly happier on a rock face than at school when I was growing up.’

She had a sudden hankering to have seen him as a teenager.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly, ‘for tonight.’

He shook his head, but she stopped him with a hand on his cheek.

‘Not only for putting your own reservations aside and being so capable and honest with Lily and Roman. I was panicking today. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make this wedding happen when everything’s gone wrong and we haven’t even reached the difficult part.’

He took her hand from his cheek but didn’t let it go. ‘Youaremaking this wedding happen. It’s difficult because it’s something special – exactly what they want. You’re holding it all together beautifully because this is what you do. Despite all your own grief, you’re showing Lily the grace she needs.’

It was too much – his earnest, rough voice, the hard look that brooked no argument, his unshakeable belief in her, well-founded or not. She stretched up and kissed him. She’d intended to pull back and assess the damage, but he melted under her hands, a groan rumbling from his chest.

She wished she could still ignore the simmering, but the kisses were proof that the clean break had been nonsense and closure was a long way off. She snaked her arms around his neck and hung on as he pulled her close. She was even a little bit glad he knew all the reasons why she was struggling so much today.

‘Is this a good idea?’ he asked, his mouth at her jaw.

‘No,’ she said emphatically, her arms tightening around him. ‘But I don’t know what else to do with you.’

‘I can just hold you, like this,’ he said, his arms gently around her. But she needed closer. ‘Whatever you n?—’

Her mouth found his ear, cutting off his words and making him shudder. Even after three months, every little detail of him was so familiar, as though she could feel his spirit in his body as she’d always been able to.

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