The Words We Whisper by Mary Ellen Taylor

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

ZARA

Richmond, Virginia

Thursday, June 10, 4:00 a.m.

When Zara woke, she did not move, fearing Nicolas would stir and this perfect evening would end. On her side, she faced the window and the view of the river, and she savored the warmth of his body nestled close. The older folks called it spooning, and it felt like the kind of moment real couples shared.

He rubbed his hand over the curve of her thigh and down her leg. His erection pressed against her, and she rolled on her back and moved under him. His eyes were half-closed when he cupped her breast and slid into her, and she arched against him. Their lovemaking was as fevered as it had been the first time, and both found their release.

“Catherine,” he whispered.

“Zara,” she said quietly.

His eyes opened. Desire knotted with confusion and then disappointment. He rolled off her and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He must have been imagining that the woman in his arms had been his late wife, and now he was faced with the reality that he was with Zara.

Zara waited for him to speak. She half expected a hurried apology, but instead he sat up and swung his legs over to the side of the bed.

“Zara,” he said roughly.

“Yes. Are you okay?” She ran her fingers over the tense muscles along his shoulders.

He flinched and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry. I need a second. I’m a little thrown off.”

“I can see that.” Last night, his focus had been on her; of that she was sure. But somewhere in the twilight, Catherine had stepped between them. “I’m the one that’s sorry.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “For what?”

“That I’m not her,” she said. “That’s what you want, what you thought you had.”

He shook his head, stabbing fingers through his hair. “No. That’s not it. I was confused. It happens sometimes. I dream about her and think she’s still alive.”

“That’s very natural, Nicolas. Feelings don’t just switch off.” She sat up. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

He looked at his hands, keying in on his left hand and the wedding band he still wore. “There’s nothing to say.”

“It’s okay to miss her. I don’t expect her to vanish from your memories.”

“Sometimes I wish she would,” he said. “If she left me alone, maybe I would have some peace. And then I realize what I’ve wished for, and I feel like a real shit.”

“You’re not a shit, Nicolas. She’s a big part of who you are, and her dying created a wound. We all get tired of the pain sometimes.”

“She was the best part of me,” he whispered.

She stood and gathered her clothes. “You’ve always been a kind man, Nicolas.”

“What happened here wasn’t kind.”

“It wasn’t intentional.” She vanished into the bathroom and shut the door, turned on the water, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Splashing water on her face, she did her best to wash away the disappointment. When she came out, she was dressed, as was Nicolas.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Really. This was supposed to be a special night, and I was really looking forward to it.”

“It was a great night. And like I said, it’s okay. I understand.”

“Really? Because I don’t. I don’t know why I can’t get on with my life.”

“You will.” She reached for her phone. “I’ll call for a car.”

“No, I’ll drive you. Damn. This is not how I wanted this night to end.” He stood rigid but did not reach for her.

“Not necessary. It was a really lovely night.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No, seriously. I appreciate the offer, but it’s easier this way. We both needed to prove to ourselves we’re alive. And we did. And it was amazing.” She moved toward him, took his clenched fist in her hands. “Now you’ve finished your bucket list with our dinner—you’ll be free.” She had believed for a moment she was more than an item to be checked off Catherine’s to-do list.

“What if I’m not free? What if I’m stuck here forever?”

“Talk to Nonna about losing people. She’s lost more than her fair share.”

Zara had never thought about the life her grandmother had lived, but the more she learned, the stronger her admiration grew. She remembered how her grandparents would turn on the stereo and dance alone. They would whisper to each other in Italian and kiss as Zara hid on the stairs, watching. She had always thought it quaint but now realized it was a rare love indeed.

She might not ever have that for herself, but that was the gold standard, and she would not settle for second place in someone’s life.

Zara squeezed Nicolas’s hand gently and kissed him softly on the lips. He had been up front about the list. And he had always been clear how much he loved Catherine. She was the one who had read more into this night.

Zara left the hotel, caught a car, and within twenty minutes was in her grandmother’s driveway, staring at the silent old house. Inside the front door, the pups ran toward her, and she quickly put a leash on them, slid on her flip-flops, and took them for a walk.

As she listened to Little Sister’s excited gait and looked up at the clear sky, she realized this was her life. And it was okay. There were people and pets who needed her, and if this was where the universe wanted her now, then so be it.

GINA

Gina was sitting in her grandfather’s study when she heard the car pull up. Moving to the window, she saw Zara get out of an Uber. Prince Charming had not driven Zara home. Not the end of the world but also not the best sign.

In the foyer, Zara quietly kicked off her heels, trading them for flip-flops; collected her three dogs; and went back outside.

Gina turned from the window, wincing as her stomach tightened. It ached with every step into the kitchen, and when she reached the counter, she had to pause.

Finally, the pain passed, and she turned on the coffee maker. As it gurgled, Gina sat in a kitchen chair, staring at the rising sun, feeling an odd sense of hope. Life was going to go on; maybe not hers, but Nonna’s and Zara’s would go on.

Zara.

When Zara had spent summers with them, everyone had been on their best behavior. Always reserved and quiet, the kid clearly did not feel like a part of the family but a guest. Papa always planned multiple adventures that kept the four of them on the move during Zara’s two-week annual stays.

Once twelve-year-old Zara moved in, carrying a Spice Girls backpack and a suitcase, the transition was not perfect. Zara was tense that year, still unsure of her place in this new family. One thing to vacation together but another to live together. Zara spent a great deal of time in her room, reading. Papa was the only one who could lure her out, and together they played chess or checkers or read books.

But that kid had become Gina’s the day her family position here had become permanent. They’d never had much in common, but they were family. And she’d felt oddly complete.

Maybe that was why Gina had never felt compelled to marry and make her own family. She’d had her own little person to raise and mold. Though that little person had a strong mind of her own, and the two sisters had rarely agreed on much.

She rose, moved toward the coffeepot, and poured a half cup and, because she was dying, filled the rest with whole milk and a tablespoon of sugar. She took a sip, savoring the taste, praying she never lost this simple pleasure.

She walked into the living room to the bookcases on either side of the fireplace, filled with pictures. One of her favorites had been taken in the early 1950s of her grandparents. They had been dancing at some event she could not recall. Her nonna and papa looked so young. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a thick shock of black hair. Nonna was petite and slim, and her light hair curled around her shoulders. What was so sweet was how their bodies leaned into each other, as if there were no one else in the world but them.

In all the years, Gina had never heard her grandparents mention Isabella, Riccardo, Mia, or Aldo. The only remnant of Italy was Signora Fontana’s soup and her father.

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?” she asked.

The front door opened, and she heard Zara chatting quietly with her dogs, cautioning them all to be quiet. “No barking hounds. Nonna is asleep.”

“But Gina is awake,” she said.