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Roman kissed me with an intensity that knocked the air out of my lungs. It was always the same with him. Every time we touched it was like we imploded into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations.
“Thank you. I love you, Salva, you know that, right?”
“How could I not when you keep talking about marrying me even though we’ve only known each other for a few months?”
“So?” He shrugged like my concern meant nothing. “I knew I wanted to marry you the moment you kissed me in front of the coffee house. You know you don’t have to work there anymore, right? You could just stay home.”
“No, I couldn’t because you’re not a fancy lawyer yet, and I’m not a trophy wife. Roman, you already spend a lot of money on college; you don’t need another person to take care of. Now, are we going to celebrate that we’re moving in together?”
“What do you have in mind, babe. Wanna go out to dinner?”
“Fuck me.”
I didn’t have to tell him twice. In the next second, my denim skirt was hiked up my hips and he slipped inside me, sending me into a blissful spiral.
Portofino, 2000
My heart was beating in my throat like it was a hummingbird trying to escape. My lips burned, branded with Roman’s taste. Our fire was still there. After all the time, all the mistakes, all the hate, he was still capable of turning me into ash.
Our kiss didn’t last longer than a minute before I bolted, mumbling something about Remy being left alone. Roman kept his distance after and only opened conversations about our daughter when we were back on shore. I was stunned by how rationally he was approaching everything, talking for hours about all the arrangements that needed to be made, invoking laws and custody agreements. He was such a lawyer, still. I couldn’t help but smile, remembering his determination from when he was in law school. Roman was a brilliant man; I never had a shadow of a doubt that he’d turn out an amazing lawyer. Only if he didn’t use his mind and skill to help criminals walk free…
God, why him? From all the people in the world, why did I have to fall for the bad man?
We’ve parted ways a few hours ago when Romina started yawning despite her best efforts to hide how tired she was. Today was exciting for her and I got to hear all that while I brushed her hair and tucked her into bed. She was mesmerized by Roman and his pretty puppy. That’s what she was calling that brute of a dog: a pretty puppy. All Remy could talk about at dinner was how much she liked being on the boat with Roman and I, and made me promise we would see him again. Well, her wishes were about to come true because Roman spelled it out for me; there was no doubt, he was going to claim his daughter. Jesus, how were we going to make that work?
There was no sleep in sight for me. I tried after tucking Remy in, but I couldn’t just lay in bed. I had this feeling inside me that refused to go away and only Roman had the cure. I gave up on sleep and went downstairs to the bakery to prepare some batter for tomorrow. That was my happy place.
It was past one in the morning when I heard a noise upstairs. Worried that Remy might be sleepwalking again, I untied my apron, ready to go check when a familiar face showed up. Francesca was home.
“Hey, Fran.”
“Hey. Working in the middle of the night? This can’t be a good thing.”
“It’s…have you ever felt like you’re drowning in shit, Fran?”
She let her head back and laughed.
“I was gone for a week. What happened?”
Everything. Everything happened. My past caught up with me here, in this remote corner of Italy where I never believed I would be found. Worst part about it? When Roman walked through the door yesterday, I couldn’t believe my eyes. A ghost of the past turned into a real man.
“I’ve been out today.”
“Oh, let me bring the wine.” She ran upstairs and came back with a bottle of red and just one glass before I could say anything.
“Fran, isn’t it too late for casual drinking?” Francesca could always find an excuse for another glass. Sometimes, I worried about her.
She was the first person I met when I came to Portofino, alone, scared, broke, and with a baby in my arms and now she was my best friend. She also owned the building, letting me pay too little to rent out the space for the bakery and letting me live with her in the rooms upstairs. Fran and I were our own little family, raising our kids together, even if Remy was not the biggest fan of sharing everything with little Samuel who was only two years old and liked to destroy everything that landed in his hands. There was a whole thing when he broke Remy’s princess tiara. That’s how she roped me into promising ballet classes.
“Oh, come on. The kids are asleep, I’m tired and my mini vacation turned out to be a very bad idea. I just spent seven days watching my mom bitching at her new husband. I need a drink, Salva, it’s the only thing that could improve my mood. A drink and some gossip from you. Plus, starting tomorrow, I won’t have mom to babysit for me anymore, so I’m going back in full mom mode.” Fran never made peace with being a single mom, so I made sure to take on a lot of her responsibilities in the first year of Sammy’s life. Most importantly feeding, because it took some time to teach her that newborns need more than three meals a day. I don’t judge her and I don’t blame her; she was thrown into this life almost overnight and I knew from experience it took some time to adjust.
Fran’s husband, Pierre Carrara, was the pastry chef that trained me to actually open a bakery. Nice guy. His chocolate soufflé was legendary. Unfortunately, he died while Fran was in labor, hit by an oncoming car when he was rushing to make it to the hospital for Sammy’s birth. A total shitshow, if you asked me. Fate was a bitch and always seemed to have a bone to pick with good people. The only saving grace for Francesca was the life insurance Pierre had paid up, and she had a few more years to get a grip on things before having to worry about being able to put food on the table. It’s not the same as having your husband by your side, but it was a better hand than I’d been dealt.
“Fine, I’ll tell you over wine.”
“Sorry, you can’t have it anymore.”
“I actually had a glass today.”
