Chapter 23
Hanna
With fumbling movements, I open the bag of brioches and place one on the plate. The night was exhausting. Images of Vico kept appearing in my dreams, images that shouldn't even exist.
Images of him whispering tenderly in my ear. Caressing my hand. Cradling the baby in his arms.
The coffee machine hums, and I take a cup from the upper cabinet. I don't even have to open the door because the glass panel is missing. No one replaced it, even though the Olivettas seem to love this estate wholeheartedly. At least everyone except Vico.
The ringing of my phone pierces my ears. It must be Florian. His name indeed appears on the display. Immediately, guilt grips me. "Buongiorno, mio carissimo."
"What?" he asks bewildered.
"I wished you a good morning, my dearest," I explain in German because the feeling nags at me that today I need to put in extra effort to show him my affection.
The creaking of a chair is heard. "Are you okay?" He sounds suspicious.
"Of course." I pour the coffee into the cup and carry it to the oversized wooden table, the center of the kitchen. "And you?"
His response is a grumpy murmur. "Have you received any updates? Are there any cost estimates?"
Yesterday, the first quotes from an electrician and a plumber arrived. "No," I say, even though I don't understand myself why I'm lying to him. "In Italy, these things take a little longer," I add apologetically.
"Then you need to push them, Hanna. We can't wait, you know that." I can tell he's trying to control his voice.
He's not happy with me. I lower my gaze to the worn stone-tiled floor. I could have told him the truth. No, I should have forwarded the quotes to him directly. "I'll do that."
"I know you're doing your best."
Oh God, no, I'm not. Quite the opposite!
My throat tightens, my stomach clenches. I place the brioches back into the bag.
"It's really important that you stay focused," he continues. Thank goodness there are hundreds of miles between us. If he could see my face right now, he would surely realize what a terrible partner I am to him. "Hanna?" he asks with an accusing tone. "Are you daydreaming?"
"Of course not," I reply shrilly, as if he had actually caught me daydreaming.
For a moment, I only hear his strained breathing. He's probably considering whether to press further. "Alright then. Back to the craftsmen. Call them again today and insist that the quotes must be ready by tomorrow."
Even though I know he means well, his tone puts me under pressure. Nervously, I pace back and forth in the kitchen. "Will do."
"And what about the Olivettas? Have you found out anything about them yet?" he asks next.
My gaze falls on the torn curtain, and the window behind it is covered in a thick layer of dust. "I'm working on it," I say because I simply don't know what else to tell him.
I could never reveal to him how much I've come to feel for the sisters. And I definitely can't voice my innermost wish that they would keep the estate. That Vico would stay here, that their fractured family would find peace, and that they would produce the finest olive oil in the region once again.
"Isn't our future important to you anymore?" A wave of disappointment comes through from the other end of the line.
"Of course, it is!" I respond as firmly as I can. Perhaps I've forgotten it at times in the past few days, but that doesn't change the fact that it's true. "We are building the foundation for a wonderful life here." I swallow. "Together."
"Together, we are strong," he says affectionately. "I need you, Hanna. I can't do this without you. You know that, right?"
My heart skips a beat. "You can count on me," I confirm, as the guilt overwhelms me. Immediately, my migraine returns, accompanied by a ringing in my ears. I squint my eyes and massage my temples.
"Thank you," I hear Florian say from the bottom of his heart. "We'll talk again tomorrow."
"Mm-hmm," I mutter, sinking onto one of the rickety wooden chairs. I urgently need my pills because when I face Vico today, I must have a clear head. I can't allow him to unsettle me like he did yesterday. And not just because I can't afford any further distractions from my mission.
