Page 96 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

Sophie had gradually put an I Do stamp on the meeting room in the Great Heart gym, much to Kira’s distaste at the white calla lilies and the little blackboard with inspirational quotes. She’d been certain Kira would appreciate it when she’d written,Nothing is impossible. The word itself says, ‘I’m possible,’apparently a quote from Audrey Hepburn, but all she’d earned was an eye-roll.

The world had kept turning, Sophie’s days still full of people and work she loved and, while she’d missed Andreas every minute, she rather liked thinking of him battling his way to the top, safe in the knowledge that she would be there when he came down.

And he had come down safe. He’d sent her a handful of pictures: a wonky selfie in front of a stone hut strung with coloured flags, dazzling white mountains in the background; several where she didn’t recognise him with every inch of his skin covered; and a wide-angle selfie of three grimacing and yet smiling faces on what she assumed was the summit – not sent live, of course, but after he’d arrived back in Kathmandu.

She thought of that day in February, when he’d barged into the meeting room at Great Heart. That jolt of recognition she’d felt had set into motion the most unexpected few months of her life. And yet, she’d known he was the one for her, even when she’d been a naïve twenty-six-year-old with lots of personal growth still ahead of her.

Now he was coming through the sliding doors into the arrivals terminal, his gaze sweeping the crowd of faces for the one he wanted to see. She rushed to greet him, waving frantically and throwing her arms around him when she reached him. Dropping his duffel bag, he wrapped her in a hug, hefting her feet off the floor and burying his face in her neck.

They stood like that for several moments, clutching each other tightly, letting the weeks apart fall away one breath at a time. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her, long and deep.

‘I love you.’

Sophie wondered if she’d ever get used to hearing him say that. ‘I love you too.’

‘I missed you.’

She pressed her cheek to his chest and squeezed. ‘Welcome home.’

EPILOGUE

‘Right, so summer next year is looking full,’ Sophie muttered, swiping through the calendar on her tablet as soon as the clients had left.

Ginny Weller watched her friend and colleague curiously as she packed up her things. They had a two-hour drive back to Bath ahead of them after their consultations at Great Heart that day.

‘But Elba is a good choice,’ Sophie mused, talking about the island off the Italian coast which the clients had expressed an initial interest in as a destination. ‘We’ve got a good network there. Gabi, the florist, is a genius.’

‘Are you…? Won’t you be planningyourwedding soon?’ Ginny asked.

Sophie flushed the way she did when anyone mentioned Andreas. He’d been gone a couple of weeks and Ginny was keeping a close eye on her in case she needed moral support, but Sophie seemed at peace with the situation.

‘I don’t know,’ was all she said in answer to the question. ‘I guess not. I’ll do this Elba event next summer, otherwise you’ll be back-to-back with the Taymar-Sachs wedding.’

‘I’m looking forward to that one.’ She’d been thrilled when Reshma had assigned her the beach wedding in the Caribbean. She’d rarely left England before she’d started working at I Do, despite majoring in Spanish and Italian at university.

‘Right, we should head back,’ Sophie said.

‘Um, I just need a word with Kira before we go.’

‘Oh? Sure. I think I saw her with a group in the gym. Is this about the Lee-Martinelli wedding?’

Ginny nodded and rolled her eyes. Planned for over a year already, the winter wedding on New Year’s Eve seemed to get more extravagant every time she opened the file. They’d already chosen an outing to an ice cave in a glacier and now the guides from Great Heart Adventures had joined the team, the groom wanted to add off-piste skiing to the agenda.

Making her way past the reception desk with a wave for Toni, who was on the phone, she tiptoed onto the rubber flooring of the gym, peering around for Kira. The climbing instructor and adventure guide shouldn’t have been difficult to find, since her hair was bleached and dyed blue.

‘No shoes allowed in this section,’ said a gruff voice from behind her.

She whirled to find a familiar figure, standing behind her in a climbing harness and a vest top and shorts, casually coiling a length of rope. This was the nature photographer who refused to take pictures of people – and had been resolute in this refusal even after Tita had gone on about their troubles booking photographers for about half an hour. She forgot his name but she recognised the stark lines of his angular face, the long, brown hair sweeping over one eye.

‘Erm, sorry,’ she said, slipping out of her trainers and proceeding in stocking feet. She felt his eyes on her as she walked away.

‘Do you need something?’

‘I’m looking for Kira, actually.’

He gestured wordlessly to the changing rooms and apparently, that was all he was going to say, as he stood silently in front of her, his eyes dropping to the silver stud in the labret piercing below her lips.

‘Thanks.’ She managed a tight smile that seemed to make him flinch.

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