Epilogue
One Year Later
H arvest comes around so quickly this time. Though, I suppose it makes sense when considering everything we’ve been doing to ensure its success. Giuliana isn’t in the office when I peek my head in. Her empty chair overlooks the grove. Standing there for a minute with my hands on the top of it, I stare out at the place that changed my life.
It looks the same, in the sense that seasons change and fruit grows and ripens before dropping from branches. Rain washes away footprints and colorful birds peck at the ground afterwards. Change is a constant. It’s lifeblood and excitement. A tiny yawn breaks my concentration and I look down to find Cora curled up on the seat of Giuliana’s chair. It took me about a week to figure out she’d named the damn cat after an olive cultivar, but she was sneaky about it. It wasn’t until she’d admonished the kitten and called her Coratina that I realized.
Cuddled into a little ball, Cora gets her fur all over the seat. I know Lia will complain while she wipes the chair down but then leave the door wide open and let the cat right back onto it. Two very headstrong ladies.
On the desk there’s a piece of paper, neatly folded in half with my name on the front. Unfolding it, I smile as I trace the handwriting I’ve become so familiar with.
My chuckle startles Cora and she gives me the cat version of side eye. I never realized Giuliana isn’t a morning person until after we got back from New York. Apparently, I pissed her off every morning last summer by necessitating my little wake-up calls when she’d much rather have stayed in bed until the very last minute.
Oh, she has no idea how much I’d love to escape with her again. We can’t be late though, not like last time. This year Giuliana has to give a speech and I get to stand by her side and look pretty. Pulling a pen from the holder on the desk, I scratch my reply onto the paper.
Cora gets a little scratch behind her ear before I head out to see to my own harvest duties. Isabella knows and the plan is in motion. After things wind down for the evening, she’ll be heading into Gravina with Chiara to give us a little privacy. I just have to survive the heart palpitations until then.
Joining countless others in the rows, my mechanical picker sends vibrations down my arms. Ripe olives cascade onto the netting, hitting the ground with a soft thud as they skid and collect. Sunlight bakes my body, leaving a trail of sweat down my back. I move with a confidence I couldn’t have fathomed last year.
Matt Palmer was soft-handed, arrogant, and lost.
I’m thankful to say I am no longer any of those things. Though Giuliana might disagree on the arrogant front, I know I’ve been humbled by this whole experience. I doubt I’ll ever truly be tamed though.
Catching her eye as she walks among us, I survey the progress we’ve made. We share a secret smile and she gives me a nod—one that lets me know she saw my response on her letter. My thoughts race to that night on the hill.
No, never fully tamed.
By late afternoon my entire body is an ache and my arms are shaky from holding the machine up all day. I’m covered in dust and sweat. We—the workers and the newest batch of volunteers—all head up toward the big house once it’s done. Taking turns, we scrub our hands and gather around the stone courtyard. When we run out of room the crowd spills over onto the grass around the house.
Glasses of sparkling liquid are passed around. The aroma of good food wafts from the house, reminding all of us how strenuous the day has been and how starved we are. But, there’s something else to do first. Giuliana steps up onto a chair, tapping against her glass with a tiny fork to get everyone’s attention.
“I’d like to take the time to thank you all for your hard work over the season. This place functions and flourishes because of people like you and I am so grateful. I know everyone is hungry. We’ve got a spread of food coming soon. But I had to say this before the night devolves because of the music and drinks.”
The crowd laughs, tension from the day already dissolving, and I stare up at her with wonder. Even with a dirt smudge across her forehead and her hair tumbling from the bun she’s tried and failed to secure all day… Giuliana is the most exquisite creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. Hanging on her every word, I’m tethered to the honeyed tone of her voice. I can’t wait until that voice is wrapped around my name.
And her legs are wrapped around your waist? The voice jokes. It’s not wrong—not in the slightest—and it makes me chuckle a little. Because yes, I’d love for her to be wrapped around me. It’s been a busy week mostly spent apart. I’ve missed her and her body.
“It’s been a whirlwind of a year. Besides officially kicking off our volunteer initiative, we’ve also established a scholarship program and partnered with a nearby farm to source fresh ingredients to ensure the best for our B&B. There’s even been some talk of trying to convince Nonna to turn our kitchen into a restaurant, but I’m sure after a long day of cooking like today she’d scold me for saying so.”
More laughs this time from people acquainted with Isabella, all fully aware of how well she’d take to being coerced into anything. My eyes scan the crowd trying to find her but she’s likely still inside getting everything ready.
“Guests have visited the grove this year from all corners of the world, but it’s you . It’s every one of you that makes this possible. My father and his father and all those who came before have poured their love into this land and I’m so proud to be able to say we’re doing the same. So please, raise a glass as we toast to this new beginning and fresh iteration of the dreams of our predecessors.”
I walk over to the sign we’ve got covered—the one that’s going to go over the road at the entrance. It took almost all year to complete but it had to feel right. Harvest was the best time for it. My hand wraps around the fabric, ready to pull it off as soon as I get Giuliana’s cue. The crowd raises their glasses, waiting.
“To the past. To Abundantia, and to the future…” Giuliana’s voice rings out, clear and sure.
“To Rinascita!”
Tugging the fabric away, it flutters off of the sign with a swish. Burned into the wood is the new name—a vow as much as a brand. It’s a message to all who enter and to those of us who know what lies beneath it. Rinascita is forgiveness in the face of love. It’s letting go of grief and loss and fear to take charge of our own destinies. The name represents the rebirth of possibility. This land is Giuliana’s but it’s my home as well, and will be for the rest of my life. Our lives, if I have a say in it.
Cheering in celebration, we tip the crisp liquid into our mouths, bubbles fizzing along our throats on the way down. I manage to grab a few bites before sneaking away into the house to shower. After sloughing the dirt from my body under the hot spray, I dress and slip into my old room—now a sort of office for me.
The door creaks a little as I ease it shut, and I rush to slide the desk drawer open, reaching inside. A new journal—a Christmas gift from Giuliana, and beside that…
I sit and start writing, one sentence to clear the nerves and mark it down as real.
Our bedroom door is shut when I tiptoe out. The patter of water from the shower and Giuliana’s soft humming sounds from our ensuite. That shaft of light I stared at far too often creeps from under the door. I only have a few minutes head start so I’ll have to make it count.
Grabbing the basket Isabella prepared for me, I give her a kiss on the cheek in gratitude during the one minute she stands still. She tuts me away, turning back to all her guests with a smile, and I rush out the back door and up the hill.
The sun is dipping toward the horizon, not quite blazing her last but it’ll be here soon. I lay out the candles around the base of the tree and down in a little trail from the blanket. It’s small, subtle. Not what a Palmer would have done, but then again, I’m not a Palmer. I’ve never really fit into that skin—that person.
Tapping my pocket for the fifth time since I left my old room, I breathe a sigh of relief at the hard square bumping against my leg at the movement. Giuliana strides up the little trail, her eyes large as she takes it all in. There’s a hesitancy to her smile—a need to ask questions—but she holds off and I’m glad. I’m a fucking mess and if she distracts me right now, I might implode.
“Amore?” It’s soft, a little breathless, and I love how she’s found her own nickname for me. After I’ve teased her with so many different ones.
Holding out my hand for her to take, I shudder when she slips her palm against mine. Her fingers thread between my own and the grip is tight, reassuring. Raising her hand to my lips, I pray my voice will be steady and my palm’s not too clammy and cold. My heart beats hard against the cage of my ribs—it roars, barely contained.
“Lia…” I kiss the back of her hand, savoring the fresh scent of her body wash and the softness of her skin under my lips. I’ve grown spoiled and accustomed to it. I try my best to soak it in now and make sure I never take it for granted that I’m beside her, touching her skin.
“I’m so proud of you.”
She beams up at me at my words, that dimple displaying her joy and it warms me to know that I’ve pleased her.
“This past year with you has been the best of my life. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and you’ve made me a better man—a better person. I’m in awe of you. When you walk into a room I can’t look away and when you leave, I trace every corner looking for you. My days begin and end with you.”
Taking a deep breath, the air rattles inside my lungs as nerves impact my ability to keep my cool.
Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up.
It’s the most important moment of my life up until now and I’m praying I make it through this without incident.
“I think I’ve loved you since the first moment you yelled at me. Sitting there shaking on that Vespa, I watched you in amazement and every rational thought I had melted into nothing. You’ve knocked me off kilter the same way ever since. I feel you with me even when you’re gone, in the little letters you leave or the strands of your hair that cling to all my clothing.”
Giuliana laughs but I can see the moisture gathering in her eyes and glistening in the flickering candlelight. Her hand grips mine and I know she’s just as affected as I am. Patting my pocket again, I slide my hand inside—trying to be subtle about it. It’s almost as hard as trying to catch my breath when all I want to do is capture her mouth in mine.
All I want to do is lose myself in her.
“When I left here, I was a shell of a person and I resolved myself to a life without you but now… now I can’t bear the thought of us ever being parted. You own me, body and soul, and it’s for that reason I beg you…”
Stepping back slightly, I sink onto my knee and her tears tip over, down her cheeks. She raises her hand to her lips, as if she can hold in the gasp escaping regardless.
“Lia, I will love you until my body gives out. I will wipe your tears and tickle you until you can’t breathe. I will hold you through the bad and celebrate the good. All I ask… is that you do me the honor of being my wife.” My own tears choke me now. The words are a strangled plea by the end and I flick the box open to reveal the ring.
The same one from all those months ago—stuck in that desk drawer along with all the secrets she uncovered. It was the real deal then and now. I just didn’t realize it. But this ring is as much a part of our story as this grove is.
“Yes,” she sobs, “ Yes. ”
Giuliana lets go of my hand so I can slide the metal onto her finger and I surge up to kiss her. Hands tangling in my hair, I spin her in a circle, our kiss broken. Her laughter against my lips is the most divine thing I’ve ever tasted. I kiss away every tear, tiny pecks across her eyelids and down her cheeks. And then place a sweet kiss against her mouth.
“I love you,” she says when we pull apart.
“I love you too. Always.”
Pulling her left hand from my hair, Giuliana glances over my shoulder to admire it and I watch her features shift as she realizes.
“Is this?”
“Yes, just resized to fit. I knew it was yours from the moment I saw it at that jeweler’s, and I’ve been holding onto it ever since. It didn’t feel right until now: the grove’s rebirth. It’s our new beginning, and what better way to mark it?”
Joy shines through her smile and radiates through every fiber of my body as my mind screams at me. She said yes. She said YES!
“What better way indeed.” Her smile takes on a little edge, mischief tucked into the corners. “Now, I hope this blanket isn’t just for show.”
Both looking around, we wait with bated breath to tell if there’s any other sound nearby. There shouldn’t be. Isabella is under strict orders to keep people from the area. Though not for this reason, I suspect. Backing Giuliana up to the blanket, both of us sink onto our knees and I give her a deep kiss before speaking again.
“This blanket… this blanket’s sole purpose is for your comfort as I worship every inch of you.”
“ Worship ?”
“ Sì, Santa Giuliana. Patron Saint of Reformed Playboys.” Kissing down her neck, I ease her onto her back, and settle between her knees. My hand caressing her thick thigh.
“Reformed?” It’s a sigh, pleasure catching at the back of her throat.
“Mostly.”
Sharing a laugh, her mirth sputters to a halt when my thumb grazes the curve of her bare hip—one of those sensitive spots.
“Well, it seems like you still have some work to do, Matteo de Palma, to prove yourself worthy.”
I slide her dress up, my hand wrapping around the soft give of her breast as I press against her heat. The layers of clothing we’ll soon lose burn between us. As much as it pains me, I pull away. Parting her thighs and kissing my way up them, I’m ready to show my adoration. My answer is muttered against her soft flesh.
“Oh, I think you’ll find my reverence up to standard before the night is through. Until then I remain your most devout admirer.”
Tugging her underwear down, I savor her. Every hitch in her breathing, every moan washes over me as she burns through her first orgasm under the fiery sunset. And later, after I sink into her and we lose ourselves, I hold her against my chest. The stars blink above us, navy silk interspersed with silver. An owl hoots in the distance and beyond that we can make out the music of the party, still in full swing.
The air smells of harvest and her. God, I wish I could bottle this night—this sensation—so I can pull it out and savor it whenever I miss her. Our hearts beat hard against each other. With our limbs entangled and breathing as one, I know in my soul that I’m home.