Normally, panic should be spreading inside me right now. Because what's happening between us is wrong. But all I feel is warmth. My fingers loosen, and suddenly, there's only one delicate wish, like a streak of light on the horizon. Doesn't he deserve the same chance he gave me yesterday when he spoke so openly about his pain? Did he laugh at me when I told him about the cello music in my head at the vineyard?
No!
On the contrary.You are the most fascinating person I've ever met, he said.
What if I open up and show him all the things I've been hiding so steadfastly? What if he isn't repelled by my daydreams but wants to dream with me?
What if he's the one person who would accept me for who I truly am? I have to find out.
"There's a winding path," I say softly, looking at him questioningly.
He nods encouragingly.
"On both sides, there are herb beds. It smells of rosemary and lavender. Behind them, the sea of poppies opens up." Yes, that's how it could be. I point at the spot near the house. "Up here, there are old, cushioned furniture pieces, mismatched and cozy. Beside them, large terracotta pots with bougainvillea climbingup a wooden trellis. The pots have curved lines on the front, and because they've weathered a bit, they bring the right atmosphere to the area."
I step into the place where the path begins in my mind and reach out my hand to Vico. He takes it, his fingers interlocking with mine.
"Do you hear the crunch of pebbles under our shoes? Over there is a pavilion. Do you see how the cream-colored curtains dance in the wind between the dark-painted metal struts? And how the cornflowers stretch their blue heads toward the sky?"
"I see it," he whispers in awe.
It's just three small words, yet they have enough power to bring down all the walls within me. Suddenly, so much more appears before my eyes. A whole new world.
"Over here are dozens of orange trees. The wind rustles through the leaves, creating a unique melody. The sun peeks through the branches, and the blossoms exude a tempting fragrance." I take a deep breath, savoring the aroma. "We harvest them to make orange blossom water," I add with a contented smile.
He clears his throat. "There's no guesthouse?" he says, his voice hoarse.
No, there's no guesthouse.
Instead, a completely different vision appears before my eyes. So vivid that it takes my breath away.
With Vico by my side, I turn toward the estate, which now lies at some distance from us. I lean against his shoulder and point at the kitchen windows. "There's a floor-to-ceiling glass door. It's open. Can you hear the bustling from the kitchen? Pots clattering, knives tinkling. The smell of ripe tomatoes and roasted onions wafts toward us, accompanied by joyful laughter and friendly words." Yes, that's it, and I'm as certain as everabout the purpose of this place. I see it in dazzling colors before me. "Everyone is there. The whole family," I add reverently.
And there I am. Dancing in a flowy summer dress with flowers in my hair. I’m happy. Because I allow myself to be who I am. Because I've stopped constantly trying to be what others want me to be.
I live for myself.
Life is meant to be enjoyed. Never before have I felt the truth in this sentence so strongly.
This is exactly how it should feel.
And what I see before me must be the future of the estate. I feel it in every fiber of my being. And I’m just as sure I want to be a part of this future.
