Page 83 of My Big Fat Italian Break-Up

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Two weeks had gone by and still I hadn’t made any inroads whatsoever into my redemption. We didn’t have it out – Julian didn’t yell at me or insult me like I’d have preferred. He just maintained his distance by sleeping in the guest room. And he was polite when I asked him a question in front of Maddy and Warren or anyone else, but that was it. Maybe because he was leaving for Copenhagen, he didn’t want to start an argument we wouldn’t be able to finish.

On my part, I did my best to be the perfect housewife, the understanding companion who made him all his favorite foods and spoiled him rotten with various gestures of love: Post-it notes, chocolates on his pillow and even digging up the first picture we ever had taken together. But the door had closed on me and I could find no way to get back in. His heart was harder than I’d thought. And it suddenly dawned on me that maybe he wasn’t going to forgive me, after all.

And now, maybe he was just biding his time while he prepared to move out of our home. And then, possibly, his lawyer would send me a letter telling me we had to vacate his home. It was half his, after all, and if he wanted to go back to the States or the UK or Timbuktu, I’d have to relinquish my half. And move Maddy and Warren elsewhere, away from our tiny paradise.

Memories of the impossibility of finding somewhere suitable from where I could continue running a B & B surfaced in all their reality. It was, and would be, impossible to find somewhere to live and have guests at the same time. I’d have to go out and find a job, because my own savings alone simply weren’t enough to support us. Not with this year’s earnings.

A part of me felt guilty for even thinking about money, but it wasn’t the money per se. It was Maddy and Warren whom I was worried about, and who, once again, were relying solely on me for their well-being. My poor kids. I wish they had someone better than me to protect them.

And then I remembered… A surge of panic shot through my heart – Julian had adopted them. Would he want to take them from me? He couldn’t – he’d never do that.

‘Julian, please talk to me. I can’t stand it. We’ve never not talked before,’ I finally pleaded when I couldn’t take it any longer.

He stopped and eyed me, his eyes expressionless. Jesus, I’d never ever seen him look at me like this It was heart-breaking. Terrifying, actually. Because I couldn’t even begin to think of my life without Julian in it, always on my side, always there for me and the kids. I couldn’t think of the void that he’d leave. A void I could never fill or want to fill with someone else. If my first marriage had ended for a thousand good reasons, there was no justification for this one ending. I loved Julian and he loved me (I still hoped).

‘Julian, you have to forgive me…’ I whispered. ‘I need to know you can get past this… thisstupidthing that happened.’

Julian’s nostrils flared like an enraged bull and for a moment I thought he’d lapse into a yelling fit.

‘Would you want to continue our relationship if I’d kissed Sienna or some other woman?’ he asked quietly, and I could feel the hurt in his voice. ‘Imagine me doing the same thing you did.’

That wasn’t difficult, as I’d been doing nothing else for the past few months. I’d visualized all sorts of scenarios where he was cheating on me. How, how,howcould I ever have thought him capable of anything like that? He wasn’t Ira and he never would be. He was a proper, decent man who happened to be good-looking and abundantly courted and admired. That didn’t make him a cheater. Now, I understood – and, God, at what cost?

‘Imagine us kissing,’ he continued. ‘Imagine—’

‘Alright, alright, I get it,’ I pleaded. ‘Please stop now. I understand you don’t trust me. But remember – I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.’

‘Same difference. You allowed him to get that close. Ask yourself why.’

My mouth fell open. ‘Do you think that I wanted him to kiss me?’

‘You tell me.’

‘Oh my God, Julian, really? It’s not my fault. He caught me off guard. And I pushed him away.’

‘How noble of you.’

I huffed. ‘Look, I promise you it won’t happen again. Ever. Can’t we just… go back to how we were before?’ I whispered.

He looked at me, eyes not softening in the least, dammit.

‘Julian, please,’ I sobbed. ‘You have to forgive me.’

All I’d ever wanted in my life was about to slip away right through my fingers and there was nothing I could do to stop it. All I could do was sob and nod as he quietly proceeded to read me the riot act, of how crazy I’d been behaving, putting my fears regarding A Taste of Tuscany before him and the kids.

He was right. I had acted crazy, convinced I was owed a living. But it didn’t work that way. Life was never in debt with you. Just because you’d had a sad childhood didn’t mean you were assured happiness after that. Karma didn’t work that way. Not good karma, anyway.

Then, as I wiped my eyes and nose, a slight crack appeared in the ice of Julian’s face.

‘I want to believe that nothing’s changed. Butyou’ve changed, Erica.’

I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. ‘But I haven’t, Julian. I still love you.’

‘You have a funny way of showing it. All you care about is waging a war against your so-called rivals and it’s exasperating. I’ve seen a side of you that I didn’t know. Or like, for that matter.’

But he was no angel, either, was he, spending all his time with Sienna Thornton-Jones and all?

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