‘A party planner from Sydney.’ His demeanour suddenly darkened as his eyes rolled over Sarah. ‘Weddings, high teas, baby showers? I’ve seen all the pictures.’
‘STEP BACK!’ Matthew raised his voice, stepping between them.
‘Strange how a nobody from nowhere suddenly found love in the arms of a millionaire who was living in a different country for years before finally deciding to tie the knot. Different circles. Different lives. I would hate to think that anyone might question your motives,Signora D’Adamo.’ His tone twisted menacingly on her title.
‘What are you insinuating?’ Sarah held her own, not breaking eye contact with him.
‘Niente. No, no. Proprio niente.’
‘Good. Keep it that way,’ she bit back.
‘Leave. Now!’ Matthew ordered.
‘So forceful, Matteo.’ His eyes returned to Sarah. ‘This little party you’re going to throw . . . let’s hope it doesn’t all go up in smoke.’ He shook his head in disdain and returned to his car, speeding up the driveway and over the ridge.
Sarah collapsed into Matthew’s open arms and the two stood there in silence for what seemed an eternity. As his grasp around Sarah tightened, he suddenly realised the vulnerable position Sarah was in. Saverio had affixed a target to her. Did he simply assume that she,a woman, would be easier to break than Matthew?
‘Are you ok?’ he asked into the nape of her neck.
Sarah gave a small nod. ‘He’s going to do all in his power to put a stop to this festival, isn’t he?’
Matthew’s chest rose heavily on his next frustrated inhalation. ‘That, unfortunately, is a given.’
trentatré
Sarah made her way to the house to collect a tray of cool drinks, leaving Matthew in the orchard to pick the last of the lemons.
Her phone was running low on battery, so she disconnected Matthew’s from the charger. The screen lit up, revealing twelve missed calls and a series of unread WhatsApp messages from both Lidia and Alessandro, the most recent being just minutes earlier. She quickly calculated the time difference and her heart plummeted.
Something was terribly wrong.
‘What’s up with you?’ Matthew asked as she approached at a run.
Holding out his phone, she panted, ‘Look!’
Matthew quickly scanned the notifications then his bright green eyes locked with hers. She could see the colour drain from his cheeks as he clenched his jaw, swallowing the pit of dread that had collected in his throat. ‘This is it . . . isn’t it?’ His lower lip threatened with a quiver, but he steeled himself with a defiant exhale. ‘Stay here with me?’
Sarah nodded.
Matthew dialled, then a moment of silence passed before Sarah could make out the echo of someone answering. ‘Dad. What’s wrong?’
Sarah watched as Matthew’s world collapsed. Phone to his ear, he crumpled to his knees, unable to form words or speak in reply. Sarah sank beside him, wrapping her arms around his bundled torso, holding him tightly as his breathing grew more and more shallow. She could just make out the echoed murmur of Alessandro’s voice on the other line.
Matthew lifted his head and drew in another deep breath. ‘Did he . . . Was he in pain?’ he asked. His eyes welled with the tears he could no longer withhold.
Seeing Matthew so overcome with shock and grief broke Sarah. She too began to cry, wishing she could take away some of his pain.
After a few minutes, Matthew ended the call and dropped even further into a deep squat. His head fell into his hands and he began to sob.
‘I’m so sorry, Matthew,’ Sarah whispered, trying to soothe him with a gentle caress across his shoulders. ‘So very sorry.’
Wiping away tears, he sought refuge in the comfort and warmth of her all-encompassing embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. ‘An hour ago.’ He paused, trying to regain his composure. ‘He pulled his tubes out. He . . . he’d had enough.’
Sarah caressed the side of his face with her warm and reassuring hand. ‘I know it’s no consolation, but know he’s at peace now. The pain is gone.’ Matthew nodded into her neck, and she felt him shudder through another wave of sorrow. ‘If he loved you even one tenth as much as you love him, then know that you were very loved indeed.’
Pulling back from her arms, Matthew rested his forehead against hers. ‘I never got to bring you home to him.’
A week later, Sarah’s attention was momentarily distracted as the distant echo of the bells of Santa Maria del Fiore chimed the stroke of midnight over Florence. It was the grip of Matthew’s hand, which suddenly clamped tighter around hers, that drew her back to the harsh reality of the moment.
