Chapter Thirty-Three #2
She looked at him. His soft eyes, his eyelashes. ‘What are we doing here, Leo?’
‘Sitting on a floor in an office in a museum . . .’
‘I know that, but . . .’
‘You’re still very, very pretty, you know that?’
‘I’m nearly forty.’
‘So? What’s that got to do with anything? You’re beautiful, and you’ll always be beautiful to me, even if you live to be a hundred . . .’
‘I won’t live to be a hundred . . .’
‘I’d like to be around to find out.’
‘Stop it!’ Her body felt like it didn’t belong to her. It was a pulsing, charged thing, no longer under her control.
‘What if I don’t want to stop?’ He tried to take her hand; she managed to pull hers back. ‘Please don’t tell me you don’t feel it, too. Please don’t tell me it’s gone?’
She shook her head, trying not to reveal how much her body was shaking.
‘It’s Venice,’ she whispered. ‘It’s what Beth said about our books.
That we both wrote the same scene. It’s what we’ve said tonight, about bringing our characters together again.
A definite ending to a love story. It’s making us overthink .
. . it’s making things . . . dangerous.’
‘I like dangerous things with you.’ He spoke in a whisper, too. A magnetic, magical, intoxicating whisper. ‘I’ve tried not to admit that to myself, but it’s true.’
‘You said you were going to be careful here.’ His face was close to hers. Her breathing was heavy. She swallowed.
‘I might have lied. It’s not natural for me to be careful. I’m spontaneous. You know that. It’s my fatal flaw.’
‘Please don’t . . .’ But she didn’t move.
‘Why not?’ He brought his face even closer, and she felt her heart might explode right out of her.
‘Our books . . . can our characters prove themselves to one another? Oh God, Leo, I don’t know. In another world I could almost imagine . . .’
‘That we could write our way back to one another . . . ?’
He leaned forward and placed his lips on hers.
They were soft and warm. He tasted of honeydew melon.
He kissed her and she kissed him back. He closed his eyes and she closed hers.
He questioned with his tongue, and she answered.
He placed a hand under her chin, a cupping motion – just like he always did, just like he always did – and she ran her hand into the soft waves at the back of his head.
He murmured, and she sighed, or was it a moan?
She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything any more.
He pressed his body closer. She shifted hers so he could allow it to happen.
And then the door opened.
Through it came Claire, the assistant curator.
‘Oh, sorry!’
They had pulled away from each other. Olivia had snatched her hands, both of which had been in Leo’s hair, back down by her sides. She stood up, adjusting the waistband of her skirt. Leo grabbed one of his shoes and started casually putting it back on.
‘Thank you for rescuing us,’ Olivia said stiffly. ‘Who knows how long we might have been stuck down here?’
‘I’m sorry,’ repeated Claire, looking highly flustered. ‘This door does get jammed sometimes. I was just coming down to get some more napkins.’
‘Does Sofia still need the chair?’ uttered Leo, dealing with the other shoe.
‘Oh, no, I think Sofia’s gone home. I’ll go and check . . .’ And, pink-cheeked, Claire was gone.
‘That shouldn’t have happened.’ Olivia grabbed her coat and started putting it back on. She was still breathing hard.
‘Why not?’ Leo’s face was earnest and endearing. ‘It was really nice. Didn’t you think it was really nice?’
‘It still shouldn’t have happened. I don’t think it’s good for either of us.’
‘Kissing you in a locked room? Felt good to me.’ He took up his coat, too, but held on to it.
‘We’ve crossed the line.’
‘I don’t like the line. I wanted to cross it.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t do this again, Leo,’ she said. ‘I can’t go there.’
He stared at her, a curious look in his eyes. ‘You’re really very beautiful,’ he said.
‘Leo . . .’
‘I’ve missed it, kissing you. I’ve missed us. I’ve missed that little mole on your neck you can only see if you get really, really close. Remember in Tuscany how we—’
‘I try to forget Tuscany!’ she cried. ‘I try to forget it every day!’
‘I think I’d like to remember it every day. Before it all went wrong—’
‘It couldn’t have gone more wrong, Leo! Can I forgive you?
Can you forgive me? Can we really do that?
Tuscany should have been where we left it.
We should have left everything there, that night.
The things that were said . . . everything .
. . Didn’t it all just prove we weren’t right for each other? That we aren’t right for each other?’
‘If I could do that night again, I would,’ Leo said sadly. ‘Believe me, I’ve been through it so many times.’
‘But we can’t!’ she cried. ‘The same circumstances would have led us to exactly the same scenario, the same hurt – don’t you understand? We can’t change anything!’
‘So you’ll do the same as you did that night? You’ll run away? Drive off into the sunset in the passenger seat of a Fiat 500?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘No, I’m not going to run. I’m going back upstairs, to the party, and I’m going to dance and chat to people and have a good time – but forgive me if I don’t come over to talk to you. Forgive me if I try not to catch your eye. Forgive me if I can’t do this, OK?’
Leo shook his head. He exhaled slowly. Messed up his hair above his right ear.
‘I’ve gone wrong,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve jumped the gun.
I haven’t done this right. I’m sorry, Olivia.
’ He shook his head sadly. ‘I hope we get another opportunity to talk, this trip,’ he said to her. ‘I want to make things right.’
‘No,’ she said to him. ‘No. It’s too late. It’s always been too late. Make another phone call. Leave me alone.’
Olivia was true to her word. She didn’t run.
She walked up the stairs and back to the terrace and the party.
She laughed and made conversation. She listened to anecdotes and to Fleetwood Mac.
She sipped champagne and nibbled on the tiny tarts.
She didn’t catch his eye, but she could feel him.
She could feel him everywhere – behind her, in front of her, over in the corner.
She could still feel his lips on hers. And at about a quarter past midnight she felt he was leaving, and, with a heart full of sorrow, yet again, she turned to see Leo give Beth a quick kiss on the cheek and slip away.