Through her shame, she said, ‘Because he knew the news would upset me. He backed himself into a corner. And he didn’t want to break the new peace and trust we’d built.’
Francesco exhaled then rubbed his eyes in frustration. ‘Ok, allthisaside.’ He waved his hands through the air to indicate the messiness of the situation. ‘How doyoufeel about Alex?’
‘I’m disappointed and conf—’
‘No.AboutAlex. About him.’
With a tired sigh, Lucia admitted, ‘I think I could really like him.’
Stefano sat back in his chair and allowed a small smile to bloom on his face. ‘Contemptcanbreed love.’
Lucia exhaled. ‘Love? ThisthingAlex and I share isn’t even love-adjacent.’
‘But itcouldbe,’ Francesco teased.
‘I have been to hell and back these past few months. Decades . . .’
‘You can’t use that excuse anymore, Lucia,’ Francesco said with a pointed finger. ‘Because it seems Alex has too.’
Lucia was silent for a moment. She catalogued in her mind all the feelings she had experienced since 23.59. Hope. Trepidation. Relief. Pleasure. Fear. Shock. Anger. A complete kaleidoscope of ups and downs. And then the sensation of Alex’s naked body wrapped around hers, the way he had completed her so perfectly, moulded to her form so uniquely, smothered her worry. ‘We had sex last night.’
‘Sex?’ Francesco blurted.
‘And it wassogood.’ She folded over on herself, hugging her knees. ‘He felt like a second skin. Like a custom fit. Tailored and taut.’
‘Like a black leather mask?’ Francesco said, grinning.
She raised her head and served him with a flash of a playful disapproving glare. ‘The universe has a sick sense of humour.’
quaranta
After what had been a busy Wednesday of lessons, Lucia stood at the front door of La Scuola Rosa and waved Francesco down thecalle.
‘Grazie e buonasera,’ she called, and he returned this sentiment with a kiss blown to the night sky. She reached across and her fingers played with the increasingly denser green foliage of the bougainvillea framing the building’s façade. She longed for the glorious pink blooms of spring to return. And soon.
‘Lucia . . .’ came Alex’s voice from across thecalle.
With her back to him, she closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ she said, and turned to close the door.
But Alex was already darting across thecalle. ‘You want the truth.Thisis the truth.’
He had come to stand between her and the door. His scent assailed her, and she remembered how it had felt to sleep cocooned by their shared nakedness, that all-enveloping warmth that radiated from his skin right through to her core. The way his rough, worn hands had gripped her fiercely, turning, guiding, coaxing her as needed.
Steeling herself, she said, ‘Alex, please . . .’
Propping his hands on her shoulders he guided her back into the school and closed the door behind them. ‘You want the truth, Lucia? Well, here it is. After the funeral for my parents and brother I chose to live with mynonni. To stay with them, abandon my life in Perth, and live permanently in Dorsoduro. That’s how I came to live in Venice.’ Lucia’s mind grabbed at the name of thesestiere. Dorsoduro. Perhaps that abandoned building she’d found was Alex’s? ‘I couldn’t leave my parents and brother behind. The idea of them being here forever, with no one to visit them . . . Because the sickest twist of fate was that I lost mynonnaa year after the accident, so mynonno– he was eighty-something at the time – raised me. He died a week after my eighteenth birthday. And that was it. I was left to fend for myself in this city, all alone.’ His hands came to rest on the outside of Lucia’s upper arms, holding her steady, as if fearing she might disappear, too. ‘Mynonniwere wealthy. Very wealthy. I got it all. As well as my parents’ estate. But all I wanted wasthem.’ He braced himself for the next breath. ‘What happened to us out there on the piazzetta, their bodies, that water, deeply and truly affected me, Lucia. I am tormented by fears. Irrational, so many people would say, but very real to me.’ His eyes scanned hers, and she returned his gaze. ‘I’m terrified of the water. Theacqua alta. When that siren rings, I seize up. The lights and sounds of that night return and it’s debilitating. I just freeze to the spot. My blood turns to ice in my veins. Then I panic and break down.’ His hands dropped by his sides and Lucia could see how they had begun to tremble. ‘A grown man – a Venetian now, no less – terrified of the high water. The most ridiculous thing.’ He reached into his jeans pocket and withdrew something, masked by his closed fist. ‘These save me.’ He unfurled his fingers, revealing a small pair of yellow foam earplugs. ‘They help to drown out some of the noise.’ He half smiled. ‘The water can’t swallow me if I have these.’
Lucia listened as respectfully as she could. She recognised a desperation in Alex’s demeanour; his desire to be understood, his vulnerability at letting her in. She couldn’t help but soften. ‘I’m sorry to hear this, Alex.’
He shook his head. ‘You’ve mocked me for my nocturnal habits. But I can’t exist any other way.’
Lucia swallowed. ‘I . . .’
‘The accident flipped my life, Lucia. The call to the house in the middle of the night. That eruption of adrenaline. I vomited in my bed, all through my linen. They had gone to Mestre for the evening to see friends. I had a fever so stayed behind. My mother . . .’ His breath hitched. ‘She wanted to stay with me, to look after me . . . but I pushed her away. I said she should go.’ Lucia’s heart cracked wide open upon seeing Alex succumb to tears. ‘Since then I’ve never been able to sleep at night. Only during the day. As if I have to live the conditions of that night over and over again. That unforgiving endless darkness across to Lido. That’s why I hide myself away. No social media. No television. The bare minimum of press. And next to no technology. Since the day of the accident.’ His chest deflated a little as he added, ‘I had to block it all out. I wanted no part of it in my life. The box of articles and clippings I showed you – mynonnacollected those. When I moved from Dorsoduro to here two and a half months ago, I brought it with me out of respect to her. But Lucia, genuinely, I didn’t know who you were before that night I stayed over. Seeing your photos on the fridge is what triggered me. Your beautiful young face had been imprinted in my mind for twenty years. So, that morning, when it was light, I ducked home to open the box and check. And there you were. We both were.’
‘Alex . . .’ She reached across and her hands found his forearms. ‘I’m . . .’
‘There’s no greater guilt than being the one who the universe chooses to let live.’
