Page 69 of All You Need is Greece

‘That’s good to hear. And the view is pretty amazing too.’

I take in the panoramic view of the valley spread out below, with white houses clinging to the hillside, the sound of a church bell gently ringing on the hour. I can just about make out a strip of sea in the distance.

I turn my gaze to the orange sun that is very slowly beginning its descent behind a mountain as a waiter returns with our cocktails.

‘Just look at that.’ I sigh. ‘You were right about having a beautiful view from here.’ I take a sip of my cocktail, and drink it all in. Marco has probably chosen the most romantic location there is, but why? I can’t believe I haven’t come right out and asked Marco what he thinks has changed between us. Am I afraid to ask him? Is there any way I could go back to being part of a couple, knowing that marriage is never going to happen?

The restaurant is filling up now, and the sound of chatter is ringing around the restaurant. A waitress is lighting candles in the middle of tables, as a string of fairy lights spring into life across the blue painted restaurant walls that are adorned with black and white pictures of the village.

‘I’m glad you like it.’ He takes a sip of his cocktail, and looks at me with his piercing blue eyes. ‘I’m so glad you agreed to come out with me again, Beth. I’ve really missed you,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ve been filling my time with extra hours at the restaurant, so that I could sleep better in the evening,’ he reveals. I don’t tell him that I frequently indulged in a large glass of wine to send me off to sleep.

‘Well, I couldn’t have let you come all this way, and not go out with you, could I?’

‘You could have, but that might have been a bit mean.’ He pulls a sad face.

We place our food order before sipping our cocktails and, as we chat, it feels as though we have never been apart. I think about Marco’s comment earlier, when he said maybe his intentions would become clearer tonight, and I’m about to remind him of this, when our food arrives.

We opted for sharing a meze board, and the food, when it is placed down in front of us, looks incredible. Chicken skewers, roasted potatoes and red peppers sit alongside chunks of salty halloumi cheese and a selection of creamy dips. It is accompanied by warm pitta breads, and a fresh Greek salad dotted with olives.

‘This looks divine,’ I say, grabbing a chicken skewer that has been marinated in herbs, and take a bite of the soft, warm chicken. I barely know what to eat next, but manage to have a sample of just about everything.

‘That was amazing,’ says Marco sitting back. ‘Do you fancy a dessert?’

‘You have to be kidding. Although, I did spot an ice-cream vendor on the village street, maybe we could have one of those later? It won’t be Italian gelato, though, I’m afraid.’

‘That’s okay, although I think I will have a try of the dessert here. I spied a waiter taking one to the next table, it looked amazing.’

‘You are going to have two desserts?’

‘Why not? I am Italian, I like to eat.’ He winks. ‘In the meantime, just look at that.’

Marco points to the sunset; the orange sun looks almost double in size and seems close enough to touch.

‘Oh wow, that is just beautiful.’ Marco was right about it being a well-known place to see the sunset and people are snapping away with their phones and cameras. We position our chairs in front of the view, and take a selfie, to capture this moment forever.

‘Not quite as beautiful as you.’ Marco reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, and kisses it. Everything has been just about perfect this evening, the setting, the food, and most certainly the company.

In the end, neither of us have a dessert and instead enjoy a creamy cappuccino, sipping it as we watch the sun slowly disappear behind a mountain.

‘Would you like to go for a walk now?’ asks Marco, as he settles the bill.

‘I think I need to, or I might be in danger of falling into a food coma.’

The village street is brightly lit now, a hive of activity as tourists browse the gift shops and make purchases from the handcart, the owner handing out goods in brown paper bags. Tables outside restaurants are busy with diners and gentle music can be heard coming from a passing bar.

‘Let’s go somewhere a little quieter,’ says Marco, as we take a left turn away from the main street and follow a path slightly uphill. Presently, we come across a stone ruin that looks as though it may once have been a chapel, with the telltale crumbling remnants of a bell arch. It overlooks a lake, which is silent and dark apart from the lights coming from a few distant houses on the hills, reflected in its surface.

‘This is far nicer than I imagined. In fact, it’s perfect,’ he says, taking in his surroundings.

‘Perfect for what?’ I ask, feeling a sudden rush of anticipation.

‘To explain why I came out here, of course. I’m surprised you haven’t asked, to be honest.’

I smile and shrug. ‘I didn’t want to push, but of course I have thought about nothing else.’

‘I came to see you because I missed you. I didn’t know when you would be home, and maybe I foolishly thought seeing each other regularly around town might spark something between us once more. Not that the spark between us ever disappeared. Well, not for me at least.’

‘Nor me. Oh, Marco, I’ve missed you too and maybe I shouldn’t have been so keen to marry, I—’

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