Prosecco and Promises by Prosecco & Promises (retail) (epub)

Author:Prosecco & Promises (retail) (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781911591313
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Ltd
Published: 2018-07-19T00:00:00+00:00

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Naples was a world away from Ischia. The streets hummed, and people walked aggressively down the uneven, cobbled pavements. Bright, colourful tourists with baseball caps and loud voices followed tour guides holding umbrellas, or bottles of water, or flags – anything, something – to follow. The Italians were loud too, chattering and arguing, maybe teasing. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference. Everything was said with passion. Every five seconds someone tried to sell us something, but Salvatore just held up a hand, as if to tell them not to try it.

My head was buzzing, and I missed the quiet of my island.

Salvatore walked on the side closest to the road, leading me, almost protecting me from the crowds as I followed him. He had tried to talk to me at the start, describing the architecture, the curve of the streets, leaning in close to tell me what we were passing. But it had become too loud, too difficult, so instead he just stayed close, leading me. At one point, I got caught in a group of tourists, like a fish swimming upstream.

It felt like we’d been walking for ever – the spring sun that had first been gentle was becoming obnoxious, and I kept surreptitiously wiping my brow. Salvatore was unfazed – he looked completely cool and at ease as we walked. I began to notice how some women stopped to look at him, or glance back at him, and it was only then I started to see what they saw: a tall, tanned, beautiful man walking with confidence, smiling behind his sunglasses.

Looking at him for too long did something unpleasant to my stomach, made me feel… untethered. I wondered what people thought we were to each other, with our dark hair and big sunglasses, holding hands. Did we look like a couple? Not that it mattered, of course. But I’d never been part of a couple. In my teenage years, I’d dated – I had been almost manic in my need for a boyfriend at 15. It was all I cared about: having someone who would put me first and adore me and make me half of a whole, a fitting piece of a jigsaw.

But 15-year-old boys rarely give you the validation you need. It was always the same, right through my teens – I wanted to feel special; they wanted someone to have sex with. Sometimes I fell for it, and was left crying on Savvy’s shoulder, wondering why the hell I couldn’t have the love my parents had had. Later on I had stopped falling for it, or chose people I knew would disappoint so there was less to be surprised by later.

And then Dad had got sick the first time, and I’d realized it was better to protect the people who already thought you were special, to make them the centre of your universe. When he started dating Marjorie, it was like everyone moved on – I realized that people could have a second act in their love stories, however unlikely.

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