As we walked along the waterfront back toward the car, I said, “The next body of water we see will be the Adriatic.”
She slipped her hand in mine. “I can’t believe we’re in Italy together.”
I couldn’t believe we were together at all. I’d thought when I left Charlottesville, it might be the last time I ever saw Chelsea. Then Elizabeth had called and said, “Bas, I have done my part, getting my girl as close to you as I possibly could. If you want her, please come and get her.”
I’d never hopped on a plane so fast.
But this time together was a double-edged sword. I was falling more in love with her every day, and although I appreciated each moment, I could feel the clock ticking. Every mile we covered was another step toward Athens, and Chelsea had given me no indication we’d ever do more than flirt with the idea of forever. If we weren’t ready to discuss a future together now, we might never be.
We were running out of chances. I had a decision to make, and she had a return flight to Virginia booked six days from now.
Chelsea curled up in the passenger seat, oblivious to my angst, always on her phone, telling me tidbits of history or geography.
“Take a detour here,” she said as we neared Verona, directing me to pass through the town ofRomeo and Juliet.
Or later: “Do we have time to see the cathedral in Padua?”
“Not if you want to get to Venice while the sun is still shining,” I informed her.
“No, I do.” She put her phone away, staring up at the sky with renewed concern. “Hie! Make haste!”
It wasn’t long before she was researching again, looking for restaurants and hotels and sites to visit. She read, “Ooh, listen. Venice is called the city of love. It says here, ‘Cupid reigns supreme.’” She waggled her eyebrows at me. “Or do you only recognize Eros?”
I stepped on the gas.
We arrived in Venice in good time and dropped our bags in a room that only had one bed. I dared not hope it was Eros playing wingman, but when we wandered outside, Chelsea gasped. “It’s the most romantic city I’ve ever seen.”
Cupid’s arrow must have grazed her. I laughed. “Where’d you bury Chelsea’s body?”
She harrumphed at me but grabbed my hand. “Can we explore everything?”
She dragged me through the cobbled streets, past a church, under arches, over bridges, and down to the wider waterfront. I didn’t mention that it reminded me ofSuper Mario Sunshine, a Nintendo game I used to play all the time with my brother. She might not find that quite so romantic.
As we approached a line of boats, voices called out as the gondoliers tried to get our attention.
Chelsea said, “Oh! A gondola ride at sunset would be magical. Please? I’ve always dreamed of doing this.”
I couldn’t reconcile this girl with romantic cynic Chelsea, and maybe I was a fool, but I wanted to believe she was opening up to the idea of love.
I approached one of the men in a striped shirt. “How much?”
“One hundred euro, sir. I take you nice ride with the sunset. For you and your bella donna.”
I tried not to groan out loud, but it seemed ridiculous to spend that kind of money to ride around the canals when we couldtake a walk for free. My finances weren’t infinite, and I’d already blown a wad in the casino, the hotels, the restaurants.
The sky had begun to turn orange, and the light set Chelsea’s skin aglow. Her dark hair flowed gently away from her shoulders in the early evening breeze, reminding me of the night we’d first met, the first time I’d longed to run my fingers through her midnight tresses.
Damn me, I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to be the one who brought a smile to her face. I wanted to show her the world.
She bit her lip, bouncing on her toes like an excited child. How could I say no?
I nodded to our gondolier, and he helped us step into the boat, handing us a blanket for the cool night air. Then he pushed us out into the canal. I forgot the cost of the trip and watched Chelsea watching the buildings. Her face lit up with joy as we went into a smaller canal and passed under bridges. “Oh, Bas. This is everything I always thought it would be.”
She relaxed against me. I wrapped my arms around her. We could have been a young couple in love. The gondolier thought we were. As church bells began to ring, he pointed into the air and said, “Le campane di San Marco.”
Chelsea sat up and stared at me, wide-eyed. “The bells of Saint Marco!”
“And?”
