Page 98 of Pomegranates and Olive

Emine shakes her head at Ginny. "Rosie said it is much too cold to swim today, didn't you, Rosie?"

"Yeah, it's fr-fr-freezing down there." Rosie blows a raspberry at Emine before rounding her up. "I'll race you upstairs. The winner gets the first shower!"

Emine races inside squealing, with Rosie jogging slowly behind her.

Mumbling under her breath about the knots in her soon-to-be-step-daughter's hair, Ginny stands up rubbing her baby bump. She and Aydin still haven’t gone public with their baby news but I guess they’re waiting until after the wedding. "I need to go and wrestle Emine and her hair." She nods at Luca and gestures at me awkwardly. "Luca? You wanted to talk to Liv about something, didn't you?"

Luca makes a face at Ginny’s back as she disappears inside. From the living room she calls out to Kat and Aricia, "Ladies, would you mind giving me a hand?"

"Subtle."

"Sledgehammer subtle."

"I need some air.” My eyes meet his curiously. Air? Wasn’t he just down at the beach? “Do you feel up to a walk?"

"Oh my God, yes. I'd love to walk." I look over my shoulder to make sure Ginny can't hear me. "Ginny won't let me out of her sight!"

"Do you think you can make it up to your olive tree?"

I nod, and he takes my hand, helping me out of my seat. Once we've navigated down the three stairs we start the slow walk up toward the ridge. It’s awkward and neither of us speaks. He’s probably trying to work out how to tell me that he’s leaving… with or without Rosie… while I’m just trying not to fall over.

Luca practically has to carry me over the ridge, and we walk hand in hand for the last few minutes. I look down at the words engraved on it, "A reason to stay", and sigh.

I guess I’m not that reason after all.

We sit down on my bench, both gazing out at the storm brewing on the horizon. "It's going to rain."

"I don't want to talk about the rain."

"Okay."

His eyes meet mine, then flick away before looking at me again. "I'm leaving."

My mouth drops open, surprised by his bluntness. "What?"

"Yeah, it's time for me to go, but I wanted to wait until you were out of the hospital and back to 100 per cent…" He flashes me a cheeky half-grin and nudges me in the side, causing me to groan. "… or at least 70 per cent anyway."

"When?"

"Tonight." His voice cracks. "But I didn’t want to leave until I got a few things off my chest.”

A swirl of nervous energy courses through me, along with a similar swirl of nausea. I start to shuffle in my seat.

“Don’t worry…” He could see my nerves were shot. “I’m not going to bite your head off.”

I roll my eyes and pretend to wipe sweat off my forehead. “Phew.”

“Actress!” He gives me a tight smile. “I just want you to know that there are no hard feelings. I think we can both agree that we were never going to make it. No one really expects to meet the love of their life at age fifteen, do they?"

"We thought we had."

"Yeah, well, the truth is we really didn't have a clue." He sighs sadly and drapes his arm over the back of the bench. I feel myself relax against him, just like we had done so many times before. "I think I was pretty lucky, growing up. Not only did I have my family that loved me, but I also had another family that loved me as well. I was always welcome in your home, at your dinner table, and in their hearts. And there was one girl's heart in particular that I loved… yours. You were this funny, feisty, slightly strange girl with a love of books and Shakespeare… which I admit I never really understood…"

"So it seems…"

He shakes his head at my somewhat snarky remark and tries to smile, but it falters quickly. "… but I loved you anyway, and you loved me—sweet, innocent, love. And we were happy. But then you left..."

"I don't think I'll ever really forgive myself for how I left."

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