Chapter Thirty-Five
Sue
I hadn’t taken an afternoon nap in years, but today I needed one. I woke up to the ceiling of my childhood bedroom, where my father had spent hours painting stars that shone in the darkness, under the careful directions of my six-year-old-self. I had been overly critical even back then.
I splashed some cold water on my face and brushed my teeth.
The bathroom light in my parents’ house was brutal, the kind that shows every freckle and pore—and apparently, old lettering.
I leaned closer to the mirror, staring at my sleep shirt.
For the first time since I had this raggedy old thing, the squiggly wording on the front was clear as daylight.
“Love is real.”
Three words, simple, and weirdly obvious. But I stared at them as though they were a prophecy. Maybe I’d just never been ready to believe them before.
A smile lingered on my face as I went downstairs, walking through the quiet house.
I could imagine Michelle taking one of the many naps the baby demanded.
My mom was probably in the kitchen, and Paul was likely doing some work in the cellar.
He’d always been a hard worker, and not even holidays like Easter stopped him.
I went outside to enjoy the fresh air. Evening had fallen over Warwick.
Spring was truly here. I sensed it in the scent of damp earth and fresh grass.
The sky stretched wide above me, streaked with the last hues of sunset.
The white ribbon of a plane moved slowly across the sky, flying to some unknown destination.
Maybe to Italy, that far away land my father had come from, but which I had never visited.
A gentle breeze tugged at my hair. The air had cooled, carrying with it the faint hum of insects and the distant hoot of an owl somewhere in the woods beyond the vineyard.
For the first time in a long time, I stood here not as an outsider returning to a place that no longer fit, but as a woman reconnecting with something she had lost.
The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I made my way toward the back of the house, to the sea of gnarled vines, still bare but brimming with potential. I wrapped my arms around myself, breathing in deeply, letting the quiet settle in my bones.
I hadn’t realized how much I had missed this place, the simplicity, the steadiness of the land, the way the vineyard whispered of patience and resilience. The way it had always waited for me, even when I had been too afraid to stay.
I found my father exactly where I knew he’d be—out by the vineyard, standing between the rows of dormant vines, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket as he surveyed his land with the pride and love of a king overseeing his kingdom.
For a moment I hesitated, watching him from the path. The last sunrays of the day cast long shadows over the rolling fields, painting the sky in shades of soft lavender and gold. This was the place he loved most in the world. And for years, I had convinced myself I didn’t belong here.
But I did. Maybe not forever, maybe not in the way my parents had always hoped, but a part of me would always belong to Warwick.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the dirt path and walked toward him.
“I thought I’d find you out here.” My voice broke the peaceful silence.
My father turned slightly, his lined face softening with a small smile. “And I thought you’d be inside, eating more tiramisu.”
I let out a short laugh. “Give me time.”
He chuckled, then turned his gaze back toward the vines. “It’s good to have you home, bambina. Even if it’s just for a little while.”
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “It’s good to be here, Papa.”
We stood in silence for a moment, the kind of comfortable quiet I had always loved about my dad. He never rushed to fill the space with words. He let them come when they were ready.
When I finally spoke, my voice was softer. “I wanted to talk to you.”
He nodded, waiting.
I took a breath, pushing past the uncertainty. “I made a mess of things.”
Dad exhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving the vineyard. “Yes.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Wow. Not even going to sugarcoat it?”
“Would you expect me to?”
I sighed. “I guess not.”
There was another stretch of silence. My father had always been deliberate with his words. And when he finally spoke, his voice was steady.
“You’re not afraid to stand up for yourself anymore.”
My gaze met his straight on. “No. I’m not.”
His lips curled slightly at the edges. “Good.”
“That’s it? No lecture? No I told you so?”
He turned toward me, his expression serious. “Do you think I wanted a daughter who let people walk all over her? Who was afraid to say what she wanted? No, Susanne. I wanted a daughter who knew her worth. And now you do.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. I looked down, scuffing my boot against the dirt. “Yeah. But I lied to you, and I’m so sorry. I think I hurt Cam, too. I humiliated him in front of everyone.”
Dad nodded slowly. “Yes, you did. But if you apologize from the heart, he’ll forgive you.”
“You think?”
“He’s pretty smitten with you.”
A weak smile twisted my lips. “I wish he were, but he’s just a good actor.”
Dad scoffed. “Don’t you tell me what he is. I talked to the man, even after you left. He told me the ring was not fake for him.”
My jaw dropped and I gaped at him. “He told you what?”
Dad looked smug. “I asked him why he spent a fortune on a fake ring. He said he never intended it to be fake.”
My pulse hammered in my ears, mixing with my dad’s words. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Cam was in love with me, too? Why hadn’t he said so? Then again, I hadn’t said it either, afraid he wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings, afraid he’d reject me, or pity me, or…
“I have to go.”
I turned on my heels and started running toward the house. I had to see Cam, now.
The sense of urgency carried me through the hallway, up the stairs and into my bedroom.
I piled up my things in my overnight bag, not even pausing to think how I was going to get back to New York without a car.
There was no room in my love-filled brain for unimportant matters like that. I’d find a way.
I ran down the stairs and through the front door, ready to sprout wings and fly back to New York.
As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary. In my haste to pack and leave, I hadn’t heard the car approaching or the gravel whisper under its wheels.
The momentum carried me down the front steps of the house, where I froze, staring at Cam.
He was here, getting out of his car, heading toward me.
My throat was tight and dry as I stared at him, my very soul melting with love. He was wearing a shirt and jeans that had seen better days, he was unshaven, and traces of fatigue shadowed his handsome face. He’d never looked more beautiful to me.
I walked the short distance between us, my eyes never leaving his.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“I… Paul texted me.”
My brow furrowed. “He texted you?”
“Becky and Michelle exchanged phone numbers the other day. Now your whole family has my number, and apparently I have theirs.”
He fished his phone from his pocket, tapped the screen, and handed it to me.
I read aloud. “Dude, my sisters in Warwick. If you wanna mend things or something, get over here.”
I burst into laughter as I handed Cam his phone back. “For the record, he only has one sister.”
Cam’s mouth twitched in amusement. “I bet that missing apostrophe’s driving you nuts.”
“I wish I could blame autocorrect. I also don’t condone the use of wanna.”
Humor faded from my voice as I looked up into his eyes. I wondered if he could read the same longing, the same hunger, the same need in mine.
I hadn’t rehearsed this, but somehow the poetry of my confession was memorized in a deep part of my heart, a part that had remained hidden even to me until this moment.
“I’m glad you’re here.” I moistened my lips. “I want to say that I’m so sorry for snapping at dinner, and for abandoning you. It’s unacceptable, but if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you—”
He shook his head and pressed a finger against my lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’m proud of you for standing up to your mom and everyone else.”
I felt tears shine in my eyes. “Thank you. I owe a lot of that to you, but I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I need to apologize to your mom and sister as well. I was horribly rude.”
“They understand. After I’ve explained the situation, they both got a chuckle out of it.”
I swallowed. “I made a mess of things, Cam, but there’s one thing I haven’t faked. I’m in love with you. I was afraid to say it, afraid to feel it, I kept reminding myself that it was all fake to you, but—”
I ran out of words, but it didn’t matter.
Cam reached for me and pulled me into his arms, crushing his mouth to mine with an intensity that left me breathless.
He kissed me as though his life and mine depended on it—and right now they did.
He cupped my head, and I raked my hands through his hair, our breaths melding together and setting the night on fire.
When he finally drew back, his eyes were dark and hazy.
“It was never fake for me, Susanne. I wanted you the very first time I saw you, and when I finally met you, you were more than any of my fantasies put together. Even though I didn’t know what the hell I was doing or why, my feelings were real. ”
“Then you really didn’t need me to save you from Britt?”
He scoffed. “Brit was never the reason I accepted to be your fake fiancé. It was piece of cake to handle her.”
“Then what was the reason?”
He ducked his head to hide a sheepish smile. “At first it was the kind of reason why I always wanted to play house with Millie Morgan when I was six—so I could kiss her goodbye when I left for work, and so we could play the train and the tunnel.”
I nudged him in the ribs. “Even then you were a little pervert.”