1. Leila
CHAPTER 1
LEILA
I pause in front of the mirror. The memories of my days with Chris flood my mind like a torrential downpour, each moment etched into my heart with vivid clarity. It was the best period of my life, a time filled with laughter, companionship, and the sweet warmth of budding romance. Of course, there were highs and lows, moments of blissful euphoria and heart-wrenching sorrow, but through it all, Chris was something special. He stood out from the crowd during the bonfire we had on the beach, his easy smile and magnetic presence drawing me in like a moth to a flame. There was something about him, something indefinable yet undeniably compelling, that captured my attention from the moment our eyes met.
Two weeks. That’s how long it took me to fall for him, slowly but surely, like a leaf carried on a gentle breeze. He was kind, caring, and fiercely protective, his presence a comforting presence in a world filled with uncertainty. There were moments when I felt so close to him, so connected, that I longed to lean in and kiss him, to bridge the gap between us and lose myself in the warmth of his embrace. But each time, fear held me back, and the nagging doubt whispered in the back of my mind, reminding me of the risks of crossing that invisible boundary.
And then came the day when everything changed, when the fragile bubble burst with a resounding pop. It was supposed to be a special day, a day when I finally gathered the courage to tell him how I felt, to confess that I wanted to be more than just friends. But as the hours ticked by and Chris failed to show up, my heart sank with each passing moment, until the bitter realization dawned upon me that he wasn't coming. His voicemail greeted me every time I called, a cruel reminder of his absence, of his betrayal. I felt a surge of anger and hurt coursing through my veins, mingled with a sense of disbelief and disappointment. How could he do this to me? How could he abandon me without a word, without an explanation?
Kate, as a good best friend, heard of rumors of Chris’s departure, apparently I was nothing more than a summer fling and his sudden disappearance was to take his place in his family’s business in the States. And in that moment, I knew that I wasn’t enough for him, that I was merely a passing shadow in the tapestry of his life. But I refused to let his actions define me, to let his absence diminish my worth. I vowed to myself that I would never again allow anyone to make me feel like I wasn’t enough, that I wasn’t deserving of love and happiness.
With my birthday around the corner and my mood Kate convinced me for a girlie night until I realized she organized a surprise party for me. She introduced me to some new friends and, laying eyes on Nicholas, his charming smile did a number on me. His attentive demeanor offered solace in my moment of need and I let myself go and enjoyed my party, surrounded by friends and loved ones. Blowing on my candles, I made a silent promise to myself to embrace the future with open arms and to never look back.
“Are you ready?” My dad's voice interrupts my reverie.
I blink a few times, and plaster a smile on my face. “I am.” I swirl around and face him, “Mom’s ready?”
“There’ll be just the two of us, she’s having a headache.”
“Oh, okay,” I gasp, approaching to fix his tie. “I feel a little unprepared for this dinner though, who will we meet?”
“It’s just a dinner, Marco Bonetti became our new partner and he invited us for dinner.”
“Hmm, he knows you adore food then. Smart move.” I laugh, linking my arm with his as we make our way out the door.
The evening unfolds in a blur of polite conversation and clinking glasses. I try to immerse myself in the conversation and laughter around me, but Chris’ absence looms like a shadow over everything.
The doors bursts open. “Good evening, everyone, I’m so sorry I’m late.”
“Nicholas?” My mouth drops open.
“Leila!” His smile widens while he comes closer to hug me, “You’re gorgeous.”
Mr. Bonetti clears his throat, “Do you two know each other?”
“Yeah, we met a couple of weeks ago.” He chuckles, “Mr. Larson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Dad shakes his hand, “My pleasure.”
“We were about to go sit for dinner,” his dad says.
“Just in time then,” Nicholas winks at me and puts a hand on my back. “Prima le signore.” Ladies first.
I giggle letting him walk me toward the dining room and I come to a halt as my eyes drift to a picture on the wall, and my heart lurches painfully in my chest as I recognize Christopher's familiar face among the smiling faces of the Bonetti family. I feel a pang of longing and sadness, a dull ache that refuses to be ignored.
Nicholas catches my gaze and offers me a sympathetic smile. “That's my brother, Christopher,” he says, his tone tinged with bitterness. “The big boy spread his wings and moved to the States.”
I force a polite smile in response, “Lucky him.” Inside, my heart is breaking. “I think I crossed paths with him.”
“Lucky you haven’t ended up on his list.” He winks at me. But my brain didn’t get it. “He changes girls like shoes.”
“Lucky me, then.”
As the evening drags on, the boredom becomes unbearable, and I find myself yearning for escape. Nicholas must sense my restlessness because he leans in close, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let's get out of here.” he whispers, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Please.” I can’t help myself. Dad and Marco Bonetti have the same odd trait, they can go on for hours talking over a coin.
“I'll show you the garden. It's beautiful at night.”
I nod eagerly, grateful for the chance to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the dinner party.
Nicholas gets up, interrupting our dads. “Mr Larson, could I show Leila our rose garden?”
“Of course.”
As we slip out into the cool night air, I feel a sense of relief wash over me. And as Nicholas leads me through the moonlit garden, his hand warm in mine, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring in my heart, a whisper of possibility in the darkness. “Thank you.”
He makes me swirl around, and leans in for a kiss, catching me off guard. “Hmm, sweet.”
Getting lost in his eye is like navigating a deep ocean. “I could blame the cake.”
His tongue darts over the seam of my lips, “Nope.” His smile gets wider. “Morivo dalla voglia di farlo.” I was dying to do it.
I get closer and kiss him back.