Page 79 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

‘Please hear me out, sweetheart. Don’t do anything that would ruin us.’

‘Me? You’re the one who ruined us!’

And then Julian did something totally out of character. He slammed his hand flat against the dresser. ‘Erica, why are you being like this? I love you!’

‘No, you love – ordesire– Sienna. Well, you’re welcome to her.’

His mouth fell open. ‘What the hell are you talking about? Sienna means absolutely nothing to me outside of business!’

I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t believe you,’ I finally sobbed.

Really sobbed, with big shudders that made my shoulders shake. Damn. So much for playing it cool.

I made for the door, but he blocked my exit with his big body.

‘You have to, Erica. I’m telling you the truth. Can’t you see it? Don’t you know I’ve never lied to you about anything? Why would I start lying now?’

‘How the hell am I supposed to know?’ I spat.

‘Listen,’ he whispered, stroking the tears from my cheeks. ‘If I wanted out, I’d tell you. But I never will and you know why? Because you’rethe one, Erica. There is and never will be another. OK?’

I stood stiff in his arms. God, this was making no sense.

He took my hand and I thought he was going to sit me down for a lecture, Erica-style, but instead he took my bag off my shoulder and led me out through the side door and onto the terrace under the pergola, my favorite spot in the whole wide world.

‘Look around you, sweetie,’ he whispered.

From the top of our hill I could see the endless patchwork quilt of acres and acres of green, yellow and brown land, the fields, the symmetrical lines on the farmland where Julian had run his tractor, the paddock with his horses.

‘Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?’ he whispered as he pulled me back against him.

I breathed in the fresh air on my face, his warm chest against my back, and I instantly remembered the hours I’d spent in Boston secretly trawling the internet for a home I could afford, knowing that as long as I remained married to Ira, it would never happen – even if I’d won the lottery or found a bargain. Ira hadn’t shared my dreams. Julian had – or so I’d thought.

‘Is it also whatyouwant?’ I asked, closing my eyes, the landscape I knew by heart imprinted in my mind.

‘Of course,’ he said, after a slight hesitation. Or was I imagining it?

‘Really? You’re not just saying that?’

‘Why would I? You didn’t drag me here. I was happy to come.’

I turned in his arms and faced him, once and for all. ‘And are you still happy now?’

Julian grinned, and I could see the slightest wrinkles at the edge of his eyes, just above his cheekbones. He put his nose against mine, the way he always did, and we were eyes against eyes. I could see the gold flecks inside his dark irises.

‘Pack an overnight bag,’ he said. ‘I’m taking you to the beach. Just you and me. Renata’s coming to pick up the kids.’

I debated. I didn’t want to lose him. But I didn’t want to be lied to. Not again, after all those years with my first husband, Ira. I just couldn’t relive any of that ever again.

But instinct – and love – told me to give him the chance to prove himself, that I was too suspicious. I wanted to believe him. So I did as he told me and packed a bag full of dreams and hopes.

As we drove down to the coast in absolute silence, I recognized the hotel in the brochure – Hotel Villa Etrusca – perched high on a cliff facing the sea.

‘This is where you and I will be spending some quality time alone, my love,’ he murmured, wrapping an arm around me and leaning in for a kiss. ‘Surprised?’

Surprised? I was gobsmacked. I was also wrong about the cheating. The room was for me, not Sienna Thornton-Jones!

‘Stunned and grateful,’ I assured, returning the kiss. Now we were talking!

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