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Maya felt an involuntary shiver down her spine. Both the bridge and the jail must harbor the ghosts of angry and despondent souls who’d been sentenced to a term of misery.
Vito noticed her reaction. “Come now. Don’t focus so much on the sadness of it.”
“Hard to help it.”
“Ah, but it isn’t all doom and gloom. There’s a romantic story linked to the bridge, as well.”
“There is?” In all her readings regarding Venice, she didn’t recall anything romantic associated with the famous bridge which led to dark and solitary prison cells.
“Certainly.”
She would have to hear this to believe it. “Please, do tell.”
Vito crossed his arms and leaned over the railing of the bridge they stood on. “There’s a local legend that says under a precise set of circumstances, a couple that kisses under the Bridge of Sighs is destined for a lifetime of love and happiness.”
Maya raised her eyebrows at him in question. She was definitely intrigued. “What are these circumstances?”
“That’s the difficult part. The chances of all the variables falling into place are highly unlikely. Yet I hear it does happen.”
“Oh?”
“See, if a couple can get it right, they can look forward to a bright and fruitful future together full of love and affection. That is, if they manage to time it so that they’re under the bridge right at sunset just as the bells of San Marco ring out. If so, they will be granted eternal love and a lifetime of bliss.”
“You’re right. That’s a lot of pieces that need to fall into place.”
He nodded. “Adding to the uncertainty is the fact that St. Mark’s bells don’t even ring every hour. Still, couples do try.”
As luck would have it, they watched as a gondola slowly glided under the bridge at that very moment. The two couples on board embraced and each shared a loving kiss.
“They’ve obviously heard of the legend,” Vito remarked.
“Obviously.”
“I don’t hear any bells, though. Plus, it’s not quite sunset.”
Maya wasn’t sure any of that mattered. Both couples looked like they were having the time of their lives.
Would she ever have that? she wondered. She realized now that she had never had it with Matt. Not for the first time since arriving in Italy, she couldn’t help but wonder if Matt hadn’t, in fact, done her a huge favor. Maya had no doubt he would have betrayed her after they’d gotten married. Once a cheater...and all that. Better that she find out and deal with it now, before she took his name. Or became a parent with him. She didn’t know if she would have had the strength to leave him once she became his wife. Or the mother of his children.
Her gaze traveled to the man standing next to her. It was hard not to compare him with Matt. On the surface, they both seemed to exude confidence. But when it came to substance, she had to acknowledge that Matt didn’t have much of the genuine quality. She didn’t know all that much about Vito but he seemed successful on his own terms. Whereas Matt had made never made a secret of the fact that he’d used his father’s connections and clout as a businessman to get to where he was in life. Matt actually regarded that with pride. He liked presenting himself as the deserving son of a prominent and wealthy Brahmin family. Upon inspection now, she could see the image he wanted to create must have included a doting spouse.
In contrast, Vito seemed very much self-made. Everything he’d achieved, he would have had to do on his own. Professional artists couldn’t rely on family connections. They either had the talent or they didn’t.
Vito seemed deep in thought, as well. Deep creases lined his face; his lips had drawn tight. Maya had no doubt he was thinking of his late spouse. She had to wonder what she might have been like, what type of woman was able to attract the attention of someone like Vito Rameri. She must have been quite something.
Maya might have lost the future she’d planned. A development that had brought her to her knees several days ago, but one that she was gradually but surely recovering from.
Vito, on the other hand, had lost the love of his life.
* * *
Vito didn’t know how long they’d stood there in silence, simply watching the steady flow of gondolas drifting under the Bridge of Sighs. In a scene that could have been straight out of a stormy painting, all too suddenly, the sky grew several shades darker. Clouds that Vito could have sworn weren’t there mere seconds before suddenly burst open and released a torrent of heavy rain.
