Page 66 of Luca
I follow at a distance as she navigates the streets back toward the hotel district, watching how she moves through Prague like someone who knows exactly where she's going. No hesitation, no checking street signs, no tourist confusion. She knows this city.
She slips back into the hotel through the same service entrance she used to leave, and I give her ten minutes before following. When I enter our suite, she's sitting on the bed with a book, dressed in her regular clothes, looking like she's been there all afternoon.
"How were your calls?" she asks, and her voice is carefully modulated again. Sofia's voice, not the animated woman talking to that man.
"Productive." I study her face, looking for any sign of the intimate conversation I just witnessed. "Did you rest well?"
"Very well. I feel much better now."
"Good. I was thinking we might explore the city a bit before dinner. Maybe see some of the areas where locals actually live."
"That sounds lovely."
"I've heard there's an interesting neighborhood not far from here. Lots of small shops and cafes, very authentic Prague atmosphere."
"Oh? What's it called?"
"I believe it's in the area around the old hostels. The backpacker district."
I watch her face carefully as I say it, looking for any flicker of recognition. There's the slightest tension around her eyes, but she recovers quickly.
"I'm not familiar with that area. Is it safe for tourists?"
"Probably not the kind of place Sofia Romano would normally visit," I say, emphasizing her name slightly.
"No, probably not." She sets down her book and looks at me with what appears to be genuine curiosity. "Why are you interested in that particular area?"
"Heard it was... authentic. The kind of place where you might run into old friends, if you had any in Prague."
"Well, I don’t know anyone here." She stands up and moves to the window. "Do you?"
"No, I don’t. Sofia, did you ever have a serious relationship before our marriage?" I ask, switching tactics.
The question catches her off guard and she whirls around to look at me. "What do you mean? That’s a weird question out of nowhere."
"I mean have you ever been in love before? Ever lived with someone, traveled with someone?"
"No. You know my background. I lived with my family, worked at the gallery. There wasn't much opportunity for serious relationships."
"No one special? No one you had to leave behind when we got married?"
"No one. Luca, I promise you…I’ve never been in love before."
"What about friendships? Close friends you might want to visit if you ever found yourself in their city?"
She shrugs. "I don't have many close friends. I've always been more comfortable with casual relationships with co-workers or family."
Another lie.
The woman I watched this afternoon was completely comfortable with that man. Whoever he is.
"Were you ever lonely before we were married?" I ask. “Or sad.”
She hesitates before answering. "Yes, to both. Sometimes. Not anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“I have you now,” she says.
