Page 90 of Italy and Forever

Rhys accepted the proffered hand. ‘Rhys,’ he introduced himself.

Greg showed him through to a reception room with comfy, dated sofas and an enormous TV. After inviting him to sit down, he disappeared – to the kitchen, Rhys assumed.

‘Tea? I’ve got Yorkshire tea or herbal: nettle or lotus tea,’ he called out as Rhys settled his bag carefully beside him, wondering when he should take out the photos and worrying again that the envelope he’d put them in was too plain and ugly.

‘Lotus tea, thank you.’

The tea took just long enough for Rhys to entirely rethink his actions. He should have just packaged the photos well and posted them. He’d been a fool to think of Ginny and her family roasting the chestnuts he’d gathered with her, maybe giving her an opening to really talk about what had been bothering her all of these years with her father’s remarriage and how it affected her own search for love.

It was none of his business and he shouldn’t have come.

Hot drinks on the coffee table, Greg settled into the armchair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, friendliness written in his body language. ‘What’s this about, then? I’m very happy to pass anything on to Ginny, but you know she doesn’t live too far from here herself, although I think she’s down in Weymouth today. Perhaps you’d like to leave it in her postbox? Or come back another day and give it to her in person?’

‘I can’t give it to her in person and I didn’t want to trust it to the post. These really shouldn’t get wet.’ He hoped Greg would accept that explanation, but of course he didn’t. He prompted Rhys with a lift of his eyebrows. ‘I think it’s best if I’m not here for her reaction. This isn’t… It’s for her, not for me. Also, I think perhaps she’s mad at me…’

He rummaged in his bag so he didn’t have to say anything more about that. Fishing out the envelope, he placed it on the coffee table. If the tea hadn’t been there, guilting him into staying, he might have closed his bag and escaped.

‘It’s just some photos. I’m a photographer. I thought she might like these.’

‘Oh,’ Greg said eagerly. ‘Photos of her? May I see?’

Rhys’s mind raced for an excuse, but refusing permission would give the wrong impression. The photos were entirely innocent, except to himself. So he nodded, witnessing Greg reaching for the envelope with a sense of being dragged to the chopping-block.

He deserved this for trying to take the cowardly way out and leave the country without seeing her. Imagining Ginny looking at these photos had been awkward enough, but now her father was taking them out of the envelope and he had screwed everything up again.

Greg’s eyes lit up at the sight of the photo on top. It was a candid shot from the day at the farm. He flicked through the first few, sitting back in his chair, his teeth peeking out of his growing grin. ‘These are beautiful. It’s kind of you to⁠—’

Rhys grimaced as Ginny’s father slowly raised a photo to inspect it carefully. It was the intimate close-up that felt like a piece of his own soul on display. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who felt something when he looked at that shot.

Greg glanced at Rhys and back to the photo, before he tucked all of them back into the envelope without looking any further. ‘I’m sure she’ll love them. You’re very talented.’

Rhys exhaled slowly and took a sip of his scalding tea. ‘Thank you,’ he muttered.

‘Forgive my asking, but you and Ginny…’

He gave an answer somewhere between a nod and a shrug.

‘It’s complicated?’ he asked gently.

‘Very. I’m leaving the country tomorrow.’

Greg’s shoulders sagged and Rhys wondered that he was disappointed and not relieved. Rhys was too old and too broken for Ginny anyway.

‘But it’s nothing to do with Ginny,’ Rhys continued, discomforted by Greg’s reaction. ‘She’s a very special… If I were staying, I’d…’ He was coming damn close to saying something dangerous that might get back to her. He rubbed his forehead. ‘It’s her decision to end things anyway. We’re not exactly soulmates.’

Greg’s sigh was deep and surprising. ‘Ginny has a fixation on soulmates.’

All of their conversations washed over Rhys at once, the awkward moments and unintentional confidences. He missed talking to her. It was unbelievable, but true. ‘She said something about when her mother died—’ He cut himself off before he betrayed her trust. ‘But she would need to bring that up with you – even though she’s too kind-hearted to ever mention it.’

Greg’s forehead creased. ‘That sounds like my girl.’

‘She gave a very good speech at the wedding.’ So good, it had made him wonder what might happen if he didn’t go to Canada. But he couldn’t put his life on hold for a woman who didn’t want him for more than a few days. She wouldn’t do that to him either.

He rose in a hurry, running a hand through his hair. ‘I should⁠—’

Greg nodded, hauling himself to his feet and holding out his hand once more. ‘It’s lovely to have met you, Rhys.’ It wasn’t often that Rhys believed platitudes, but Ginny’s family was obviously an exception. ‘I’ll make sure she gets the photos.’

‘Thank you. I thought you could give them to her when you roast the chestnuts, if you haven’t done that already.’