‘We’ve worked so damn hard. And for what? Why did we have to go through all that?’
Her hands came to rest on the top of his chest. ‘Because we were meant to have the journey. To learn. To grow. Look at how much we have achieved and accomplished. And together, mind you. None of that would’ve happened without this.’
Matthew allowed her thoughts to sink in. She was right. ‘I don’t think we should say anything yet.’
‘Ok.’
‘I need time to process what’s happened and make sense of how things stand.’ As always, Matthew did his best to approach stressful situations with care and a level head. ‘Part of me wants this all over. Another wants to be able to say that we’ve earned it.’
‘That’s very noble,’ she said, and her hands found his hair once again.
‘What do you think?’ He tilted his head back to read the expression on her face.
Sarah winced. ‘I think we’ve come this far, what’s a few more weeks? Youwilleventually need to tell Alberto, though.’
‘Of course I will. It’s just a matter of timing.’ Chatting about it had helped him make sense of the muck the case’s revelations had stirred. He exhaled, squeezing her hand a little tighter in his. ‘Ok, take your jumper off.’
‘Excuse me?’ The sudden shift threw her.
‘I’m going to give you a massage. Lie down.’
Sarah smiled and dutifully complied, pulling it up and over her head. ‘And what about this?’ She gestured to her bra.
‘That can go too.’ He leaned across to her nightstand and picked up the small tub of beeswax. ‘I owe you one very special massage. Lie down, beautiful.’
Just as she was making herself comfortable, something suddenly clicked with Sarah. ‘You know the ironic thing about all this?’ she started. ‘The only reason we even found the case was because Luca set fire to the barn. This could potentially be his own undoing.’
As Matthew’s hands flattened against Sarah’s warm smooth skin, none of it seemed to matter in the slightest: Luca, the fire, Viola D’Adamo or the inheritance. The fact that she was there with him, bundled up in their cosy warm room on Christmas Day, was the only thing he wanted to think about.
The remaining dark and cold weeks of Sarah and Matthew’s winter break passed just as they hoped they would: slowly.
Their days were spent cooking, eating, laughing and reading. They rarely left each other’s side. Their new ‘normal’ saw them walking La Viola’s grounds, and trekking though the low fog and dewy mist to Fiorellino to catch up on town gossip. Sunday mornings were spent with Riccardo and Margherita – enjoying the traditionalpasseggiateand communal coffees in the piazza, followed by the longest of lunches and buoyant drives to neighbouring towns. Other days were simply spent tangled in bed, a mish-mash of linen and limbs. Between afternoons on the couch and evenings in the kitchen, their life together had found a rhythm that neither wanted to interrupt.
This special time allowed Matthew and Sarah to be truly present for each other. Without the constant distractions and lack of privacy that running La Viola posed, they could finally just be themselves, together.
Soon, however, with the arrival of the spring sunshine, their final day at La Viola was upon them.
The day brought with it many unknowns. The only thing they could control was how they chose to reflect on their time at Convento delle Viole. Hand-in-hand, they walked the entire property, just as they did the first time they set foot on its tan-coloured gravel path.
Sarah couldn’t help but poke through some of the longer grass by the edge of the orchard. True to character, the all-knowing wild violets had begun to emerge from their winter slumber. Just in time for their departure.
As much as La Viola had changed, Sarah and Matthew too had undergone serious renovations.
‘Is there anything you would like to do before we head back in?’ Matthew asked.
Sarah nodded. ‘One more session on my mat. Just here.’ Her eyes rolled over the valley below and eventually settled on Fiorellino in the distance. ‘Just one more.’
Matthew gave her a hug from behind and said, ‘Enjoy. Take your time. There’s one last person I need to have a word with before we wrap things up.’
Matthew waited by Saverio’s car, parked in the shadows beside themunicipio.
Upon setting eyes on Matthew, Saverio sighed superciliously. ‘Matteo. What can I help you with this evening?’
‘We need to talk.’
‘About?’
Matthew read from a notepad. ‘Falsification of government documents, manipulation ofRegione-directed policy for individual profit, intimidation, generally bringing local jurisdiction into disrepute, as well as an illicit affair with a married woman . . . have I missed anything?’ He cocked his head to the side, bringing the pen he held in his hand to the corner of his mouth. ‘You have had a very busy year, haven’t you,Sindaco?’ He twisted the title as if through a vice.
