‘Faith in?’
‘Life. The universe.’ She gestured to the sky. ‘Sometimes, I feel like I’m running out of time and fairy dust.’ Stella reached for another and immediately dropped it to the stainless-steel benchtop. ‘Ok, that one’s hot.’
‘Be careful,’ he said, taking her left hand in his, opening her palm to inspect the damage. A small red mark remained, which he gently caressed with his thumb.
Marco’s hands were warm and reassuring and for a second, she caught herself enjoying his touch. ‘Grazie. Silly me.’
‘Molto bello,’ he said, gesturing to the shooting star on her wrist.
Blushing slightly, Stella inspected it, then held it out for Marco to see properly. ‘An impulse buy, the day before I left home. A permanent reminder to never let anyone extinguish my sparkle.’
He passed her a cooled, shelled chestnut. ‘Prova questa.’
‘Grazie.’ With a full mouth, Stella asked, ‘What is it that you want from life?’
‘Così esistenziale, Stella!’ he remarked. ‘So much for just relaxing and hanging out.’
‘I know, I know. I’m just curious.’
Marco clapped his hands clean over the bench and cleared his throat. ‘Ok, but first, remember that I am the jazz-lovingNonnodi Roma,eh?’
‘The greatest there is!’
He beamed a humble smile. ‘To live a slow life of love.’
Stella leaned forward on the benchtop, resting her chin on her propped-up hand. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Imagine a slow life.Una vita lenta. Where there is no hurry, little stress and no material values. It is about slow pleasures. Long lunches. Walks. Music.’
‘Your jazz?’
‘But of course. And holding hands. Sex. Family. And in there, a love so pure,così . . . potentissimo.Un amorecapable of moving the universe.Un amorethat transcends time and space. That is more important than any career, money, possessions. It’s magic.’ He dropped his head. ‘Ora sono imbarazzato.’
The chestnuts on the hob popped and sizzled in the skillet in the otherwise still and quiet kitchen.
Closing her eyes, Stella heard Marco loud and clear. Swallowing her pride, she knew she had never felt a love like that, let alone been on the receiving end of one. ‘I hope you find it one day, Marco. I truly do.’
‘We both will.Destino.’
Suddenly, Stella, with her eyes still closed, felt Marco’s warm hands catch her cheeks. She opened them just in time to see his eyes, the same brown of the roasted chestnuts, dart across her face. Holding her close enough that Stella could feel his breath on her lips, Marco’s fingers found their way into her hair. Her heart pounded in response and a rush of confusion and panic flooded her mind.
He’s so close . . . Is he going to kiss me?
Do I want him to?
As quickly as the moment came, it was pulled out from underneath her as Marco’s fingers reached behind her glasses and carefully removed them.
‘You forgot about these,’ he said softly. ‘I didn’t mean to distract you while you were packing up earlier.Scusami.’ He folded the arms and set them down on the bench.
‘Ah, sì.’ Stella cleared her throat. ‘Grazie.’ Her palms had gone clammy, and she was suddenly filled with nervous energy.
Sensing a shift in Stella’s demeanour, Marco said, ‘Sorry if I startled you. I know how your eyes hurt if you’ve been wearing them too long.’
She fidgeted with her glasses on the bench. ‘Right. Yes.’
You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Shame on you, Stella.
ventuno
