chapter 9 #2
First contact. Heidelman had told her to text him when she got in and set up a time to meet Lilly, but she hadn’t had the
chance. If he’d been told the same thing—that she’d text him when she arrived—why was he reaching out to her before she could
even get to Praiano? Was he that eager to be rid of Lilly?
Charlotte got the impression he was. The question was why? Surely, she wasn’t so difficult he couldn’t wait one more day.
I’m in Naples. I’ll be taking the train and arriving in Praiano later today.
What address, please? I will have Lilly and her things ready.
Stunned, Charlotte looked up at her friends.
“What is it?” they both asked at once.
“It’s Lilly’s caregiver—Luca Versetti.”
“Can he speak English?” Julian asked.
“Heidelman said he could, and he wrote me in English.”
Sloane twirled her empty wineglass. “What does he want?”
Julian followed up on that question with “Is he trying to arrange a meeting? You didn’t set up something for tonight, did
you?”
“No. I knew we’d be arriving after twenty-four hours of almost no sleep. I wanted to wait until I was fresh and rested. I
was also afraid our flights would be delayed, or we wouldn’t be able to get a train ticket or what have you.”
Julian shifted in his seat. “So . . . what’s he saying?”
Fighting the jitters that were setting in, Charlotte put her phone aside. She got the feeling this wasn’t the situation she’d
anticipated, where she could come, meet Lilly and make a careful, informed decision. Luca was obviously finished caring for
the girl. Now he was just looking for somewhere to dump her as soon as possible. Which meant . . . what? “Sounds like he’s planning to drop her off on our doorstep as soon as we arrive.”
It felt strange waking up without Sloane beside him. Ben usually got up first, put on a pot of coffee and made breakfast—what
little breakfast Sloane was willing to eat. She was always in a hurry. Building her business took so many more hours than
if she’d just gone to work for someone else.
Sometimes he wished she had. The sacrifice was costing him a great deal, too. But he was proud of the effort she’d put into
A Personal Touch. She had such a talent for making homes and offices—even outdoor spaces—beautiful. And he loved the way her
eyes lit up when she was talking about a project that excited her.
Her enthusiasm was contagious. But he feared she’d gotten so caught up in what she wanted to accomplish that they’d lost each
other.
He adjusted his pillow as he listened to a lawn mower down the street. Someone was getting an early start, which probably
wasn’t making the neighbors very happy. He happened to like the steady buzz of the motor. It reminded him of his childhood
when his father would get up early on a Saturday morning to mow—before he was old enough to take over that chore. Once his
father died, he’d had to become the man of the house and do a lot of things his father had done, including trying to cover
some of his mother’s bills while putting himself through college.
Gazing at the empty pillow beside him, he sighed. Would he be happier with another woman? Someone who wasn’t so engrossed in her career? Someone who was willing to slow down a bit and enjoy life with him? Maybe even have a family?
That was tough to say. It wasn’t until very recently that he’d started having such thoughts. When he’d married Sloane, he’d
assumed they’d spend the rest of their lives together like his parents would’ve done had his father not died white-water rafting
with some friends. But she wanted different things—more success and money than he craved. He valued quality of life, which
meant he wanted to focus on people, spend time with those he loved and have children. That was all he’d ever wanted—a simple
life and to be like his father.
Who knew that would turn out to be a problem? But it had. Sloane was drifting away from him, and he didn’t know how to stop
what was happening. And if she wasn’t happy with him, he didn’t want to hold her back. People changed, their needs and desires
changed and he was a strong believer in letting those around him evolve and pursue what they wanted most. What good did it
do to hang on too tightly? That killed any positive emotions, anyway.
Which didn’t mean that splitting up wouldn’t be painful for him. There were moments when the thought of losing Sloane hit
him like a right hook. Other times, he could be more philosophical about it. On some level, he understood that after the pain
eventually receded, he might be better off, happier for having gone through it, especially if he could fall in love with someone
who wanted what he did.
His phone rang. Since it was only seven o’clock, he expected it to be Sloane, and it was.
“Hey, how’s the trip so far?” he asked.
“Good,” she replied. “That pizza place you recommended in Naples was out of this world. Now we’re on the train to Praiano.”
“The pictures I found on the internet of the Amalfi Coast are gorgeous. You’re going to love it.”
“I hope so.”
There was that uncertainty again. He felt bad for her; he also felt bad for himself. “So Charlotte and Julian made it safely,
too?”
“Yeah. They’re here with me.”
“Poor Charlotte. What she’s facing wouldn’t be easy.”
“It might be even harder than we thought. The Italian guy who’s been looking after her half sister seems to think she’s taking
over from here.”
“They haven’t even met!”
“Exactly.”
He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. “Damn.”
“I don’t know about this,” she said. “I’m afraid we might regret coming here. Maybe Charlotte would’ve been better off in
the States, avoiding this whole thing. A week ago, she didn’t even know she had a sister. It shouldn’t be her responsibility to raise Lilly.”
“Someone’s got to be there for the poor girl,” he pointed out.
“I know. But my first loyalty lies with my best friend. She’s going through a divorce, for God’s sake. To have this happen
now . . .”
“Not the best timing,” he agreed. “Except the divorce is probably the only thing giving Charlotte the opportunity to have
her sister as part of her life.”
“And maybe, in the end, she’ll love Lilly more than Cliff. I haven’t met Lilly, either, but I already like her more,” she
joked.
He chuckled. He knew how hurt Sloane had been by Charlotte’s defection, but he understood why Charlotte had to choose her husband over her best friend.
At least she’d given her marriage everything she had.
She wouldn’t—or shouldn’t—have anything to regret there.
“I wasn’t a fan, either. But it would be tough not to get egotistical and narcissistic in the mind-bender reality that’s become his world.
It’s something very few people experience, so it’s hard to say how he should behave. ”
“As usual, you’re far too kind,” she said.
Did it bug her that he could always see the opposite perspective? He’d learned over the years that the world was much more
nuanced to him than to most people. “Just trying to be fair.”
“I know. Did you get any sleep last night?”
What could he say that would adequately explain how empty the house was without her? How hard it would be to break up? He
wanted to let her know how much she meant to him, but he also didn’t want to cling to her if she needed to move on. “It’s
strange being here alone. You’ve been gone before, but . . . I don’t know, this time feels different.”
His comment was met with a moment of silence. “I shouldn’t have left.”
“I don’t think that’s the case.” It was time. They had to find happiness with each other or separate and find it elsewhere.
She asked him a few questions about his work. Then she put her brother on so he could say hello. Ben knew that if their marriage
ended, it would be hard to lose her family, too. He had a good mother, but he’d had to step into his dad’s shoes when he was
only fifteen. That had changed the dynamic at home enough that he craved being part of a regular family, and Sloane and Julian’s
parents were definitely regular—the kind of regular that was as American as apple pie. So were Charlotte’s, for that matter.
He didn’t want her adoption to change the closeness they’d always shared.
After he spoke with Julian for a few minutes, he said hello to Charlotte and wished her well. If anyone could love a sister
they’d never known, it would be her. But he had no idea how that sister would impact her life—whether it would be for better
or for worse . . .
Sloane came back on the phone once Charlotte said goodbye. “I’ll send you a video of the villa once we get there.”
“I hope it’s as great as the pictures.”
“So do I. I miss you,” she added.
“Miss you, too,” he responded and meant it. Then he disconnected and turned on the shower. He feared what the next few weeks
might bring. It felt like a make-it-or-break-it moment in their marriage—and he had no idea which way it would go.