Chapter 38
Vico
I can't believe I actually made it here. And now, as I step out of my car and look around the vineyard illuminated by spotlights, I no longer understand how Camilla managed to convince me.
Do you really want to let her go without talking to her? she asked me, looking at me as if her heart would break along with mine.
Why does it matter so much to you? I inquired.
Because I want nothing more than for you to be happy, came her reply.
As if she knew better what makes me happy than I do myself.
I shut the car door and stroll absentmindedly toward the entrance.
Being happy, what is that?
Is it knowing that Hanna probably has a better life with her Florian than with me? Or is it facing my fears and fighting for something I'm not even sure exists? And if it is indeed real, will it eventually plunge me into the same abyss as my father?
With heavy shoulders, I enter the vineyard.
"Can I help you?" An elderly server in a black shirt and apron approaches me. Her hair is elegantly tied into a knot, not a strand out of place. She looks at me attentively.
I interlace my fingers and smile silently at her, unsure of what to say. Is it better to stay or to leave?
"Do you have a reservation?" she inquires.
I have no idea. "Um…," I let my gaze wander, but the dining area is small, and I only see an elderly couple, a large family, and a group of young women. Hanna is not here. Maybe Camilla misunderstood her.
The server raises an eyebrow. "What's the name?"
"No, I…"
Suddenly, her face takes on a knowing expression. "You booked the candlelight dinner at the vineyard for the young lady from Austria, didn't you?"
Candlelight dinner?
"Oh, how shy young people are these days." She hooks her arm through mine. "Come along, you're surely being eagerly awaited."
I would doubt that. Hanna should have known about my arrival in order to announce me. Maybe someone entirely different is expected. This Florian, for example. Nevertheless, I let myself be led by her without resistance. We traverse the bustling restaurant, step out into the quiet backyard, and keep walking until we reach the rows of grapevines.
Over there, between the long rows, a space is reserved. A square table with two chairs sits amid nature. Candlelight not only bathes the surroundings in gentle hues but also illuminates Hanna's face.
With a blend of nostalgia and dreaminess, she gazes down the hill into the valley, now cloaked in twilight. She absentmindedly twirls a glass of water in her hand. Impossible as it may be, she looks more beautiful than ever before.
"I'll find the way from here," I tell the server, who turns away with a knowing smile. Once she's out of my sight, doubts assail me once again. What would happen if I approach Hanna now and admit that I want to let her go, but simply can't? And what if I don't?
Nervously, I take a step to the side. A branch snaps loudly beneath my shoe, pulling Hanna out of the world she had retreated into. She looks over at me, and I am instantly frozen.
For seconds, we gaze at each other. I try to read her eyes, wondering if she's disappointed in me. If my panicked escape from Father's birthday party hurt her too deeply. And if her heart is also pounding too fiercely against her chest.
Slowly, the corners of her mouth turn up. I walk toward her, her smile becoming more pronounced. We repeat this dance until I reach the table.
"Buona sera," I say timidly.
She gestures to the empty chair. "Take a seat." Her voice doesn't reveal what she feels, but her expression weakens my knees.
After settling into the chair, she straightens her posture. "Why did you come?" she asks, looking deep into my eyes as though she already knows the answer to her question.
I try to steady my breath. "Would you believe me if I said I have absolutely no idea?"
"No," she replies gently, taking a sip of water. "So why did you come?" she asks again.
To ask you to stay with me.
"To apologize," I blurt out even though this conversation's start might lead to a point I never want to reach. I rest my elbows on the table and lean forward. "Again."
"Why?" She struggles to keep herself composed, as if there are so many words inside her that she deliberately holds back.
Not wanting to endure her gaze any longer, I lower my eyes. "I shouldn't have run away. I'm sorry, that was—"
"Does it even matter anymore?" She interrupts me.
Surprised, I look up at her. Her face appears closed off, but her breath is rapid. "Isn't it?" My heart tightens.
Her index finger glides over her fork. "The estate is being sold. Your sisters are losing their home."
Ah, that's what it's about. Not me or us. But Camilla, Alessia, and Aurora. I don't know if I should feel relieved or cry. I manage no more than a nod.
" You are losing your home," she adds with a pleading expression.
What does she want from me, anyway? She and her stupid boyfriend are the ones buying the estate. She shouldn't be concerned about the sellers' feelings. "Why does it even matter to you?" I blurt out.
With trembling fingers, she reaches for her napkin. "Because you can still prevent it," she says, her voice breaking, and suddenly, I realize how much it must have cost her to utter those words. How long has she been wrestling with herself? "This estate means everything to your sisters."
"I know that." My God, why does she think I'm not aware of that? "The three of them are incredibly important to me. Only when they are happy can I be happy," I add. Yet I feel that trying to uphold the family tradition will suffocate me. The half-decayed walls will remind me every day of what happened. And my father will hold up a mirror to me in every second, one I don't want to look into. There is only one way I can see that becoming possible.
If Hanna stays with me. Forever.
"Then do something about it," she pleads, reaching her hand out toward mine. "What colors do your wishes have?" she asks meaningfully.
The delicate pink of her cheeks. The velvety brown of her hair.
And the deep sea green of her eyes.
I want to tell her. She must know that my wishes bear only her colors. So we can find out if they are the same as hers.
"Stay here. Save your home," she says earnestly. "Florian and I can build our future somewhere else."
Florian and I. The future.
Like spirits, the words flutter through my mind, seeping into my thoughts and building a wall around my heart. No matter if I were ready for the most significant leap of my life, she won't stay. That much is certain. "I can't," I hear myself say.
Her lips press together in disappointment, and she withdraws her hand. "A sponsor wants to support my career. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." Not that it's a good excuse for leaving my sisters behind, but it's the only one I have. "I've been working toward this moment for years. It's my dream, you see."
Her facial muscles soften. "Since when have you known?" She feels betrayed. I see it in her eyes.
"Just a few days ago," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. Out of pure self-defense. Nevertheless, I feel as lost as I've ever been.
She swallows hard. "And when will you leave Collina da sogno?" Her voice is controlled.
"Tomorrow. It's better this way. For all of us." Even though it was beautiful to momentarily immerse myself in her dream world and see a future filled with life and love. Ultimately, it was nothing more than a dream.
A silent tear escapes from the corner of her eye. The candlelight refracts in the drop as it runs down her cheek. I want to kiss it off her velvety skin, to take away her sadness and mine as well. However, I just watch idly until the tear reaches her jaw and falls into the darkness from there.
"Time to wake up, isn't it?" she asks me, her voice hoarse.
I nod, my throat tightening more and more. I wish I could ask her to help me conquer my fears so that I can return home. But she has made it clear that her concern is only for the future of the estate. Not for ours.
"Time to wake up," I confirm in a toneless voice, and I lower my eyelids.