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“Oh, my,” was all she could muster. The sky above was the color of deep blue velvet. Stars dotted the darkness and sparkled like the finest diamonds.
Another stunning visual she was not likely to soon forget. Why had she not visited Italy before this? Maybe she might have met Vito if she had. Maybe they would have had a chance to get to know each other before he was married. Before they’d become two people who were so wrong for each other. Before it was all too late for the two of them.
“You should see it during a meteor shower.”
If only she could. Maya ignored the sorrow that filled her heart at the thought that she’d never be able to do such a thing. She’d probably never set foot on this balcony again after tonight.
“Can we stay here awhile?” she asked, any hint of tiredness suddenly evaporating.
“Of course.” He motioned to the outdoor patio love seat behind them. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Maya did so and tucked her legs beneath her on the comfortable cushion. Vito joined her and draped his arm over the back of the couch. A comfortable silence followed, both of them focused on the dazzling view above. She couldn’t guess how long they sat there, simply gazing up at the night sky, before Vito finally spoke.
“You handled yourself admirably at dinner. Consider me impressed.”
“I didn’t want your grandmother’s birthday ruined.”
“No one but Leo would be to blame if that had happened.”
She couldn’t argue with him there. Whatever the other man’s motivations had been, Leo had to know the truth was bound to come out sooner or later. Not that she’d be around to witness the fallout.
What would Vito tell Nonna the next time he visited with no fiancée in tow? Would he confess it had all been a ruse? Maybe he’d make up a story about their unexpected and terribly sad breakup.
Again, she wouldn’t be around so it really was none of her concern. But she couldn’t help but want to know. Maybe he’d call her in Boston. They could have a chat about it over the phone. Like casual long-distance friends who kept in touch once in a while.
She had to bite back a sob.
Vito interrupted her speculations with his next comment. “I’d like to apologize for the way I reacted after the balloon ride today. When I learned about the conversation you had with Lynetta.”
She hadn’t seen that coming. “Why did it bother you so much, Vito? That we’d discussed you.”
His profile made for a stark silhouette in the darkness. He exhaled deeply before he answered. “Because it most likely meant you discussed my marriage. My marriage is not something I like people to dwell on.”
She’d guessed correctly on that score. “Fair enough.” She would let the matter drop. Despite her burning curiosity, she would respect his wishes.
To her surprise, Vito was the one who continued with the topic.
He bent over and leaned both elbows on his knees. “My wife was a woman with strong emotions. I thought I was up for the challenges that came with such a characteristic. I was wrong. I didn’t handle it very well.”
She reached for him, rubbed a hand over his shoulder in comfort. “You can tell me, Vito. Only as much as you like.”
He was silent so long that Maya thought he wasn’t going to do any such thing. His voice was strained and gravelly when he finally did speak. “Marina was used to being the center of attention. When we first met, I was happy to give her all of mine. I even based some of my creations on inspiration she provided. But that didn’t last. It couldn’t.”
That wasn’t a burden that a healthy relationship could survive, Maya thought. But she remained silent, letting Vito get all that he wanted to off his chest.
“As you can guess, things went sour quickly. I convinced myself none of it was my fault. I told myself I couldn’t be expected to be all that she wanted, that she needed. I had my career. My name recognition and accolades of my artwork were growing throughout the world. The more in demand my work became, the more miserable Marina grew. She complained I never had time for her. That we never did things together. Even accused me once of being unfaithful.”
He sighed before continuing. “She started giving me ultimatums. But I was too busy to pay attention. The perfect cliché of the distracted artist too engrossed in his work to realize what was happening right under his nose.”
