He gave her a gentle shoulder bump. ‘What’s that about?’
‘I . . . I just feel like I have very little control over my life here. I feel stuck.’
‘In Impastino?’
Her nose scrunched. ‘No, here. In this place. The trattoria has so much potential. There are things we could do to . . . And the Festa della Pasta . . . Its rules are archaic! I am a woman so I cannot compete. Even though I am the head chef of my family’s restaurant.’ She let out a long, frustrated sigh.
‘I agree. I see all your potential. Never forget it.’
‘Grazie. This is why London meant so much to me. It was my space and my way.’
‘This is why you should go and finish—’
But Francesca had already pounced on him, muzzling his mouth with her palm. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. It’s impossible.’ Looking down into Alessio’s magnetic eyes, she shook her head. ‘I can’t think about London . . . when all I am conscious of is losing you in three weeks when you go back home.’ She slowly peeled herself from him and Alessio propped himself up, leaning back on his elbows.
‘That’s been on your mind?’
She nodded. ‘Sì.’
Francesca watched as Alessio’s expression softened. ‘I couldn’t have ever expected this. But this thing between us . . . It’s unlike anything I’ve ever known before.’
She felt her own eyes sting with tears. ‘Will it just end?’
Alessio reached up and caressed her cheek. ‘I don’t want it to.’
‘It doesn’t have to. You can sta—’
‘Do I want to go? No. Do I want to leave you behind? No. But I have loose ends to tie up at home.’
‘What ends? You came here to restart your life because you had nothing there. You told me . . .’
The pause that settled between them tortured her.
He’s going to pull away now. He can’t commit to anything more. Just accept that.
‘Francesca, part of me worries that this side of me, this Alessio – Alessio of Impastino – can only exist here. As if he’s not real. Just manufactured. A by-product of your affection, your care, this town, all the pasta, the sun, the sand . . . How do I know if this version of me can exist back home, where my life awaits?’
‘Then stay. And the problem goes away.’
His leaned over and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘I need to go home. I don’t want to, but I need to. I have my apartment. A mortgage. My car. My parents. I need to just take this Alessio’s energy there and see what happens in areas of my life I wasn’t ready to face before. That also includes work.’
‘And after that you will come back?’
‘Maybe.’
‘My pasta love wasn’t strong enough for you.’
‘Your pasta love helped heal a part of me I thought was broken for good. It was unexpected and beautiful. Like you.’
‘So, we might be saying goodbye in three weeks?’
‘We will say goodbye. But hopefully not forever.’
She lay down beside him and pulled him close, burying her head into his shoulder. ‘Then let’s make the next three weeks the best of our lives.’
* * *
At 3 am Alessio awoke slick with sweat.
