She rolled up a towel, placing it under her head so she could recline fully. The aroma of the orange-scented bath oil arrested her senses. The fragrance evoked memories of their first time in Positano.
They had moved there from Rome, deciding they wanted a slower-paced life. They both loved the Amalfi Coast area, having visited the seaside cities on their honeymoon.
Aria was so glad Nicholas had seen at least some of his dreams come to pass.
When the water was too cool to stay in, she pulled the plug, grabbed a towel from the heating rack, and dried off after carefully stepping out of the tub.
She crawled into her bed and stretched, but a half hour later, when sleep still wouldn't come, she grabbed her phone.
At the gallery, she had heard people whispering about Alex being a big-time photographer. She was curious to see what Enzo and Sofia meant about him not doing the kind of photography she needed.
The Google bar was staring at her, making her feel rushed.
“Okay, okay, I'm getting there,” she said aloud. She debated with herself for a while, then finally did it.
With shaky fingers, she typed in, ‘ALEX ROSSI PHOTOGRAPHER’.
Her mouth agape, she clicked on page after page of information, photos, award ceremonies, Alex in places she had never even heard of before. There were also articles about his humanitarian endeavors.
Her heart was conflicted seeing photos of him with statuesque women, all of whom looked like they had walked off the runways of Milan.
“Nicholas. What am I doing? What is happening to me? I miss you so much.”
With a deep sigh, she slid out of her bed and walked to her desk.
She dug around in one of the drawers until she found a brown leather journal that was fastened with a tab. The empty journal had been pushed to the back, neglected for far too long, just like her writing.
Just like my dreams.
Her hand smoothed over it and she brought it up to her nose to smell. There was always something wonderful about the smell of leather and old books. With a sudden urge to write down her feelings, she grabbed a pen as she sat down.
Opening it up to the first page, her smile returned at the familiar crack of a newly opened book. She basked in the glorious sound that always held the feeling of endless possibilities and a promise of new beginnings.
Looking to the heavens for inspiration, she grabbed a pen.
In the quiet of her solitude, Aria began to write, the words suddenly flowing out like a flood over dry land after a drought.
She couldn’t help smiling as her hand tried to keep up with the many thoughts that filled her mind and her heart.
And she couldn’t help wondering what had finally unlocked it all.
Chapter Fourteen
Alex,Enzo and Adrian decided on a restaurant near the gallery for a late celebratory dinner and sat out on the patio.The gallery opening had been a success as always, and Adrian had managed to sell almost all his paintings, including the one Alex purchased.
“To my brothers,” said Alex as they clinked their glasses.
“Cin, cin.”
“What a night,” he said softly, taking a sip of his drink. The trattoria was quiet due to the late hour, a welcome respite from the crowd at the gallery.
“Yes, it was quite a night. For you as well, brother,” Adrian said.
Alex was still thinking about Aria’s confession. A widow? There was so much to process in that revelation. He felt an undeniable need to protect her and try to heal her pain.
“I can’t get over Aria walking into the same gallery on the same night as you,” Enzo said, his eyes wide.
Alex tried to focus on their conversation, pushing the growing unease in his throat down.
