Page 81 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

‘Of course I thought about you! It’s natural. We had a pretty intense relationship, but we can’t change the past. Maybe at first, Rory and I bonded over a mutual resentment of you,’ she admitted in a small voice. ‘But we didn’t talk about you at all after a while. Only at the end…’

‘The end?’ he prompted.

With a sour taste in her mouth, Sophie forced herself to continue the explanation. ‘Rory accused me of never getting over you. I wasn’t the same, bright person I’d been when we met and it wasn’t fair of me to pretend all those years.’

‘That’s bullshit,’ Andreas said, so vehemently, she jumped.

‘I know he was making excuses. He wanted to break up without shouldering all the blame, so he lashed out with something that didn’t make sense, something from the very beginning. But maybe I made a mistake, too – misjudged a rebound relationship because I didn’t know which way was up any more, when it came to love.’

He seemed to choke when she uttered the last word and she wished she could call it back.

‘We were both pretty stupid, then,’ she said softly.

‘We were,’ he agreed.

It was clear to her now that whatever she felt for him, he couldn’t love her back. He felt enough to feel guilty while still walking away from her – but it wasn’t love. And what she felt for him couldn’t be love, no matter how right that word felt to describe her precarious state. Love was like Lily and Roman – love was reciprocated.

One-sided like this, it was just pain.

‘We won’t repeat the same mistakes this time,’ she mumbled, speaking more to herself than to him.

‘No,’ he agreed firmly. ‘We should not repeat the same mistakes.’

Sophie wished his words comforted her, but they did the opposite. And when he grasped her around the waist and pulled her close as soon as they closed the bedroom door for the night, she was even more adrift. She guessed he was trying to say something with his hands and his lips. As she dropped off to sleep afterwards, his fingers traced lines on her back, along her shoulder blades and down her spine and she had the sad thought that if this wasn’t love, she didn’t know what love was.

31

Andreas couldn’t have put his finger on why the people waiting in the car park of the hotel in Limone didn’t look like a usual group of clients. They were perhaps slightly more smartly dressed than most sporting types, wearing hiking skirts with built-in shorts instead of heavy-duty trousers, ties peeking out of the men’s pockets. But he’d worked with enough Italian clients in Dolce & Gabbana and designer sneakers over the years that the difference was minimal.

He’d led many multi-generational family groups, so the presence of the parents – only three at the moment, as Lily’s mother wasn’t to be seen – also wasn’t anything to remark upon. With their caps and backpacks, some with hiking poles attached, they should have looked like any other group heading out for a day in the outdoors.

But this group was so clearly something more. There was a giddiness in the parents’ smiles and high spirits amongst the younger people. The groomsmen appeared to be taking turns to slap Roman on the shoulder and the groom himself was barely able to contain his grin.

This struck Andreas deeply.

Objectively, he knew it was foolish to try to control every variable. Lily and Roman obviously didn’t expect a picture-perfect experience – and they were guaranteed some great pictures up at Cima Rocca. Today was about the marriage and not only about the wedding and that was what they wanted.

But the pressure was still getting to him. He hated weddings, distrusted people who made promises they couldn’t keep and yet he was rather hoping this one turned out to be something special. All of this was for a promise Roman and Lily wanted to make to each other – a promise he’d been certainhewould never be capable of making. One that had always felt foolish to him.

If promising to spend your life with someone was foolish, he felt like a fool that day. He’d proven it that morning by slipping the little zip-lock bag into the buttoned pocket of his trousers, next to his multitool – the Pakistani emerald. A reminder of another moment in his life when he’d felt foolish like this.

He didn’t want to be without Sophie. He’d given up too quickly eight years ago. He didn’t know what solutions they’d find to the obstacles in their lives, but the relationship they’d miraculously rebuilt – stronger this time – was worth making sacrifices for. He wouldn’t make the same mistake by letting her go without telling her everything she meant to him and waiting to see what she’d say in return.

Sophie looked her part today: black hiking trousers that could pass for tailored if you squinted; a loose-fitting white shirt with a patterned scarf she’d put in her bag early this morning to add some flair for the ceremony. She was looking lovely and it was becoming increasingly clear to him thatnotsaying something to her would be more difficult than letting out the words.

Words were not his forte but still, he’d packed the emerald. If nothing else, he could give it to her even when she lost the bet, as a hint of everything he needed to tell her.

She had a baseline level of stress several notches higher than her usual, but he suspected she thrived on it. She liked to be challenged and he loved watching her as she looked between her tablet and her clients, in control of all the details.

He’d thought she was prettier now than she’d been at twenty-six – although she’d been damn beautiful back then. But how was it possible that he enjoyed looking at her today even more than he had a week ago?

The bride appeared, looking a little flustered and fanning her face. She rushed straight to Sophie. ‘I’m so stupid. I didn’t heed your advice and I got sunburnt yesterday!’

Sophie didn’t even hint at ‘I told you so’. ‘Don’t worry, the photographer will be able to touch things up, but I don’t think it looks bad at all?’

‘Mum had a cream with her and we’ve slathered on the aloe vera. I’ll touch up my?—’

‘Lily,’ Sophie interrupted gently. ‘It’s a wedding, not a photoshoot. Focus on that. One step at a time, starting your marriage the way you wanted to. I’m here for everything else.’

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