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The comment jolted him; he’d never thought about it like that and for a moment he felt strangely diminished inside, as if he lacked something important. A notion he dismissed promptly. ‘But that’s way better than them moving on and I am left devastated.’ This he knew.
‘Has that happened to you? Have you been left devastated?’ she asked.
‘Just the once. It falls under the young and foolish category, so perhaps devastation is a bit of an exaggeration. I was twenty, I fell in love and Lydia moved on to someone richer and more successful.’ An echo of his father’s actions.
‘That sucks.’
‘It did, but I really only had myself to blame.’ He should never have lost control of his feelings, should never have let the feelings flourish and grow into love.
‘Had you been together long?’
‘Six months. I was working at Silvio’s and she used to come in for a cocktail. We got talking and it spiralled from there.’ He’d fallen and fallen hard, tried to resist but in the end he had succumbed, decided that he and Lydia were the exception to the rule, that happy ever afters were possible. ‘Unfortunately she didn’t feel the same way I did. I walked into work one day and she was kissing one of the customers. Harry Chisholm. His dad was a millionaire and he lived a way more exciting lifestyle than I did.’
He could still feel the raw pain he’d felt then, as he’d stood rooted to the spot, watching the kiss. It had been Lydia who had spotted him, who had broken away. She had taken Harry by the hand and they’d approached him.
‘I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I’ve been trying to work out how to tell you.’
Harry had left them alone and Lydia had continued to speak. Luca had been unable to say anything, the rawness of his pain new, yet all too familiar. There had been sadness in her voice.
‘I’m truly sorry, Luca. But you’re so serious, so focused on your business and your training and work. Harry is fun and exciting and—’
‘Rich.’
He’d managed the syllable, infused it with all the bitterness he’d felt.
‘And he’s charming...and he doesn’t take life so...personally.’
The words had cut him to the heart, a reminder of his childhood self. This was his fault—just as it had been his fault his dad had left. There was something wrong with him.
‘I’m sorry, Luca.’ Emily’s voice, gentle and full of compassion, pulled him to the present.
‘Don’t be. It’s an old story—it happens all the time to millions of people. It was no big deal, but I will admit it put me off love and romance.’
‘I understand why. But I think there is a different solution to your arrangements.’
‘Such as?’
Before she could reply the waiter approached their table.
CHAPTER NINE
AS THE WAITER put the aromatic plates in front of them Emily reflected on what Luca had shared; it might be an old story, but she sensed that eighteen-year-old boy would have been devastated by Lydia’s behaviour. Sensed too that he would rather walk on hot coals than admit it, and wanted to give him a bit of a time out to walk away from the memory of Lydia.
Emily looked down at her plate, inhaled the delicious scent of spices, garlic, fresh green chilli and cumin and couldn’t help but admire the presentation of her sadhya—a variety of curries and dals and pickles in small stainless-steel pots all arranged on a banana leaf. She looked across at Luca’s choice, a rice-flour pancake filled with a curry that emitted the waft of ginger and coconut.
‘Do you mind if I take a picture of yours as well as mine?’
‘No problem.’
A few minutes later, she gave a small sigh of satisfaction and took her first taste. ‘This is beyond amazing.’
He nodded. ‘Mine too. Do you want to try some?’
‘Yes, please.’ She waited whilst he sectioned off a bit of his and moved it onto her plate, ‘And help yourself.’ She tore of a piece of chapati and handed it over, watched as he dipped it into one of the pots and she revelled in the strange intimacy of sharing food.
For a few moments they savoured the dishes, and then he wiped his mouth on a napkin. ‘So what is your solution to relationships? You tried marriage so I assume you believe in the happy-ever-after theory. Or at least you did.’
‘Definitely past tense.’ There had been no happiness in the ending with Howard. Even now the sequence of events was a horrible blur. Her pregnancy had been a surprise but to Emily it had been a welcome one. To Howard it had not; and as her pregnancy had progressed his displeasure had only increased. His insistence she conceal it, his growing impatience, his disparaging remarks. All had culminated in her discovery that he was sleeping with someone else. The scale of her anger at his betrayal still shocked her, their confrontation a humdinger that she regretted with all her heart, because two weeks later she’d lost the baby and a part of her believed that somehow the sheer raw pain and exhaustion could have caused it.
