"Ooookay." His expression is so delightfully bewildered that I burst into laughter. "Whatever you have in mind, count me in."
I tap my finger against my lips, gazing thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "Of course, it shouldn't be dangerous," I say.
"Of course not," he lovingly mimics me.
"But a little adrenaline would be nice," I continue, fixing my gaze on him. I'm so curious about his reaction that I can feel my own excitement building.
He looks like he's just seen a ghost. It takes a few seconds before he tilts his head to the side. "Would a bit of freedom also be welcome?"
Oh yes, absolutely. I nod decisively, pleased to note that my mother's voice inside me falls silent. "Even a little bit more."
"Come with me." He grins, taking my hand and leading me out of the room. The checklist stays where it is. And I won't need the camera either.
Not today. Today belongs solely to me.
Hand in hand, we walk across the courtyard and then farther to Camilla's house. As we did almost two weeks ago, Vico opens the garden gate, and the gleaming red Vespa beckons me with its headlights.
He steps up to the scooter, patting the creamy leather seat. "Not too dangerous, a little adrenaline, and lots of freedom. Can't get any better than that." I can tell from his expression that he doesn't believe I'll actually do it.
I take a step closer. "Me behind you?"
"Each on their own steed." There's a mischievous spark in his eyes. "We'll ride toward the sun and see where it takes us."
Admittedly, it sounds tempting. And why not? For as long as I can remember, I've denied myself any fun, afraid of taking risks. But millions of people ride scooters every day; it's probably no more dangerous than driving a car. And I drive a car too. If I'm careful, nothing can go wrong.
I glance back and forth between Vico and the Vespa. "Toward the sun?"
He nods, his legs fidgeting with excitement.
I feel my cheeks flush, and my heart already pounds. Adrenaline courses through my veins, sending tingles up my spine. "What are we waiting for, then?" I can barely contain my laughter at his incredulous stare as I approach the Vespa. "Come on. Show me how it works."
Wholly focused on me, he circles the scooter and stands beside me. "Who are you?" he asks, looking into my eyes. Searching. And so lovingly that my stomach flutters.
Instantly, my laughter subsides, making room for a different feeling I shouldn't be having.
Longing.
"How were your words at Spiaggia bianche again?" My voice sounds shaky, almost trembling. But not because I'm afraid of riding the Vespa. And I think I can see in Vico's gaze that he understands that too. "If I never allow myself to do something outside of my comfort zone, I risk missing out on so much."
He reaches out his hand as if to stroke my cheek. But when he's so close that he almost touches me, he abruptly pulls back. "That's absolutely true," he replies, then swallows hard. "Perhaps the very walls we've built to protect ourselves sometimes keep us from being happy."
Suddenly, it's as if time stands still between us. And I'm certain we're no longer talking about me riding a Vespa. Perhaps it's no longer about me at all. It's about him. About his wound.
"Maybe," I whisper breathlessly. "But what if we take the sledgehammer and tear them down? What if we do what our hearts tell us?" What if we give in and see where it leads?
"Anything could happen." His chest rises and falls rapidly. There's an almost pleading expression on his angular face. It's as if he's wrestling with himself.
I can't bear this. Being so close to him, seeing his lips twist into a pained smile, and feeling what lies deep in my heart.
"We should…" I force my eyelids down, dry my sweaty palms on my jeans, and create distance between us.
Nervously, he fiddles with his hair. "You go first."
With a strange mix of relief and melancholy, I take the helmet from the scooter and put it on. Then I push the Vespa off its stand, swing my leg over the saddle, and test what I need to do to maintain balance. Vico watches my attempts, gives me some tips, and finally shows me how to start the engine. As soon as the machine hums beneath me, the tension that had just built up so menacingly between us vanishes like smoke. Excitement wells up inside me. And also a bit of fear. Yet I'm certain that I want to do it.
I want to be reckless. Wild. And free. Just this once.
Carefully, I accelerate. My legs extend to the sides so I can steady myself at any moment, and I roll forward. I'm going so slowly that Vico can walk beside me. His presence, knowing that he's there to catch me if needed, gives me so much security that I dare to increase my speed.
