THIRTY-NINE
The morning light was soft and lazy as I stood by the window, gazing out at the view of Milos, the sea stretching endlessly toward the horizon.
It was the kind of scene that made everything feel infinite, yet here I was, packing my things, preparing to leave.
The thought felt impossible to reconcile—this beautiful place, this time that had felt so free, so full of possibility, was coming to an end.
I glanced around the room, each little detail a reminder of everything I had experienced here.
The small balcony where Luca and I had sat, watching the sun dip behind the hills, the bed where we’d spent countless hours tangled in laughter and conversation… It all felt so far away already.
Even though I was physically here, it felt like the pull of reality was already dragging me back, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the situation pressing on me.
The soft rustle of my suitcase, half-packed, seemed louder in the quiet of the room.
I had known from the beginning that this trip was temporary, but that knowledge hadn’t made it easier.
I’d tried not to get too attached, tried not to let myself imagine what it would be like to stay, to see what more there could be between Luca and me.
But the truth was, I wasn’t ready to let go.
The door creaked open, and Luca stepped inside, his presence filling the room.
He didn’t say anything at first—he didn’t need to.
I could see it in his eyes, the same reluctance I felt.
But he did have coffee! He leaned against the doorframe, watching me silently as I zipped up my bag.
The words we hadn’t said yet hung in the air, heavy and unspoken.
The soft hum of the air conditioning in the hotel room was the only sound that seemed to fill the empty space between us.
Luca had to leave, and the reality of it felt too sharp, too soon.
His flight back to Campania awaited, where he had a meeting to attend before heading off to Bordeaux for more business.
He tried to shift things around, even suggesting that we could extend our time a little longer, but Gia had no patience for that.
She’d threatened to bury him in the vineyard if he made any more changes to his schedule, and she wasn’t joking.
It’s funny how you think you have more time, but when it’s slipping through your fingers, it feels like nothing is ever enough.
“Looks like it’s really happening,”
he finally said, his voice low, almost as if he was talking to himself.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. It felt like everything we’d shared over the past few weeks, the laughs, the adventures, the moments when it felt like time stood still, were slipping away too quickly. My chest tightened, a sharp ache settling in.
“You’re not ready for this to end either, are you?”
His voice was a quiet question, and I met his gaze, realizing he understood me better than I’d thought.
I swallowed hard, pushing back the lump in my throat. “No,”
I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not.”
He didn’t need to say anything more.
“We can’t hold onto this forever,”
he said quietly, but his words didn’t feel like a goodbye—they felt more like a promise.
I wanted to say something, anything, but the words didn’t come. Instead, I stepped closer to him, needing that one last connection, one last moment of feeling like we weren’t really saying goodbye at all.
The world outside may have been waiting for me, but for this moment, it didn’t matter. The storm of emotions inside me swirled, and I knew I had to leave, but it was impossible to let go. Not yet. Not until I had to.
"I want to cancel my meetings," he asked, his voice low and almost hesitant.
"Me too," I replied, pausing to look at him. "But business awaits."
He sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I’ve enjoyed every minute with you. I don’t want it to end."
"Neither do I," I admitted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "But it’s a holiday, right? We both knew it couldn’t be something more. We live parallel lives that just happened to cross paths for a moment in time. The most perfect of moments."
Luca reached out and took my hand, his touch sending a familiar shiver down my spine. "I know. But... what if it could be more?"
I bit my lip, feeling the tug of my own heartstrings. "We live in different worlds, Luca. And we both have busy lives. It’s not practical. Or simple. My life is in New York—my business, my friends, my family. I’m bot going to be the one to make the changes and lose myself in the process.”
“I want more,”
Luca confessed.
“Maybe,”
I said, my voice tentative but hopeful, “No big decisions right now, just… see where this takes us.”
Luca smiled, and I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. “I can do that,”
he said. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen. We can keep in contact. If we’re ever in the same place at the same time, we can get together. See where it goes."
I nodded, trying to convince myself that it would be enough. "Yeah, that sounds good."
But as I said the words, I knew they felt hollow. The idea of not seeing each other, of not feeling his touch again, was harder than I wanted to admit.
Luca must have sensed my internal struggle because he cracked a smile and said, "Hey, don’t worry. You’ll always have those seven minutes of glory to remember."
I laughed, the tension breaking for a moment. "Oh, I thought we agreed it was only five."
He chuckled, pulling me closer. "Maybe next time, I can aim for eight minutes."
"Now you’re just being ambitious," I teased, feeling the heat between us rise again.
He kissed me then, slow and deep, his lips lingering on mine as if trying to imprint the memory. When we finally pulled away, we were both breathless.
"Don’t ghost me. That’s my move," he said, his eyes searching mine.
“I’ll think about it," I whispered, my heart aching.
We shared one last, lingering kiss before he grabbed his bag and headed for the door. He turned once more, I could feel his eyes on me, the tension between us crackling like static electricity.
"I’ll miss you, Charlie Monroe," he said softly.
"I’ll miss you too," I replied, my voice catching.
And just like that, Luca Lione was gone. A memory just for me.
I had several hours before I left for the airport. I needed to distract myself, and the thought of sitting around feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to cut it. So, I decided to head to a little outdoor café just around the corner. I had work to do. Content to finalize. Vigna Fiorta had become a piece of my heart, and today I was going to finish it. I couldn’t wait to send it to Gia. The photos, the venue’s soul, it all came together just as I’d envisioned.
I set up my laptop, ordered a cappuccino, and dug in. The morning sun hit the table just right, and I could smell the fresh bread from a nearby bakery. The café had a lively energy to it, with locals chatting and the clinking of cups and plates in the background. This was the kind of space I thrived in—peaceful but alive with the hum of life. And, as always, I threw myself into my work.
As soon as I hit send on the email to Gia, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. It felt right. The content was cohesive, the images told the story of the place, and it had the kind of energy that would draw people in.
A few minutes later, phone rang and I answered. Her voice came through the line, practically vibrating with excitement. “Charlie! I love it! This is exactly what we need, I’m so impressed.”
That’s all I needed to push it out to my clients. I knew it was going to be received well.
Relief washed over me, but it didn’t last long before I found myself picking up my phone again, responding to emails. Within less than two hours, I had several clients asking about availability, interested in booking a stay. My heart raced as I saw the replies flood in. This partnership was going to be even bigger than I’d imagined.
I reached out to Gia to talk through the calendar availability, eager to get the logistics sorted. The idea of actually running through a dry run of what clients could expect during their experience felt essential to me, so I could present it with confidence when the time came. This partnership was going to be extraordinary, and I wanted to be ready for it all.
Sitting there, in that sun-drenched café, with the city around me humming its daily rhythm, I knew the next steps were just the beginning. I could already feel the excitement of what was to come, and no matter what happened next, I was ready to build this—just as I had always imagined.
Finally the time arrived and I said goodbye to the best month of my life. By the time we were in the air, I was replaying every moment, every touch, every kiss. My body still tingled from the memory of him, and I knew that no matter what happened next, Luca had left a mark on me that I wouldn’t soon forget.