Sabrina swallowed hard, moving her head slowly up and down. Her eyes locked on Lorenzo’s chocolate brown orbs, and she saw concern, fear, and worry. She squeezed his hand to reassure him that she was so much stronger than she’d ever been.
“I’ve spent so much of my time in Florence thinking about the past and my future. If I wanted to enter the path to healing myself, I needed to address some of my past ghosts. I called my mom and we had a productive conversation about our relationship. I contacted my dad, and two days ago, we had our own short chat. There are still so many deep wounds to heal, but the important thing is that I’ve made a start and I don’t feel like I’m alone anymore.”
“As your friend, I am so proud of you.” Lorenzo enveloped her in a hug. It was as if she’d been wrapped securely in a warm, fuzzy blanket protecting against the blistering cold. He held her for several breaths before releasing her.
Lorenzo slid his hands into his pockets. “You are converting me to becoming a person who hugs.”
Sabrina pulled her hair behind her head. “What can I say? Hugs are contagious.” She touched the garnet necklace she had yet to remove.
Just as she was about to reach for his hand, Lorenzo checked the time on his watch. “The Colosseum will open in about five minutes. I don’t want to rush you, but it’s best if we knock it off our list now. It will only grow more crowded throughout the day.”
She sighed and casually moved her hand behind her neck. “Lead on. You know Rome best.”
Are we ready to be more than friends? We’re dancing around one another now, and I’m losing the battle.
* * *
Sabrina patted herself on the back. She’d successfully managed to make it through visits to the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, and the Borghese Gallery without so much as a romantic thought toward her tour guide. Staying busy had kept her mind focused.
After enjoying a late lunch, Lorenzo guided her through another maze of streets.
Sabrina slowly licked her tart limoncello gelato. “Do you miss living in such a lively, sprawling metropolis? Life in the Cinque Terre must seem tame by comparison.”
Lorenzo took a bite of his plain vanilla cone before answering. “I have moments where I miss the ability to spend time anonymously blending into the crowd. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve found that I crave living by the sea. It calls to me. I can’t picture myself ever living elsewhere. What about you?”
“Me?” Sabrina blinked several times. “I suppose I’ve found that it isn’t the location of where I live that matters as much as the people. I’ve come to love just about every single aspect of Italy. It’s where I feel like I belong, “
“You hope to stay in Italy?” His voice rose in hope.
“Yes, but I don’t know how realistic that’s going to be. My tourist visa was only good for ninety days. In two weeks, I have to leave Europe.”
“What about your attending the Jane Austen Festival?”
“From how I understand it, visiting the UK is separate from the tourist visa for Europe, but I’m a little fuzzy on the details.” Sabrina lowered her chin. “If I’m wrong and I have to miss it, so be it.”
“There is no way you are going to miss that festival!” Lorenzo’s brows knit together. He stroked his jaw. “There has to be a solution that neither of us has thought of.”
He’s so handsome when he is pondering about how to rescue me. Very Captain Wentworth-esque. A man who loves the sea.
“I live in hope.”
She could hear the rushing water before she saw the god of the sea, Neptune, driving his chariot of winged horses atop one of the most famous fountains in Rome.
“A bit of irony for you, but here we stand at the juncture where three roads meet. The Trevi Fountain.”
The water was a stunning, unnatural shade of aquamarine. Scattered along the curved steps surrounding the fountain was a mass of tourists, some sitting enjoying a coffee, and others taking selfie after selfie. Most crowded of all was the base of the fountain, where she watched people face backward and throw coins over their left shoulder.
“How curious.”
Lorenzo let out a throaty laugh. “It’s another local tradition. If you toss a coin over your left shoulder into the fountain, legend holds that you will return to Rome someday.”
Sabrina licked her lips. “Then we’d better keep with tradition.”
Once they finished their gelatos, Sabrina and Lorenzo weaved through the crowd and found an open space near the front of the fountain.
Sabrina handed her camera phone to Lorenzo. “Do you mind taking a video? I’d like to send it to my sister back in the States.”
“Of course.”
