Chapter 194
HARLOTTE-
We had arrived in Italy. I always loved coming here.
Luca’s car took the hills south of Modena like it had been born knowing the turns.
5 vouchers
Then into Emilia-Romagna, where we began to see lush vineyards stretching across the hills. I held my breath in awe, then, unable to contain my excitement, waved my hands out the car window. I could not get enough-the intoxicating scent of ripening grapes and fresh earth, the breathtaking sight of the landscapes.
Italy truly was a land of incomparable beauty. I could feel the gentle breeze in my hair, and my stomach already churned with anticipation for the delicious meals I knew his family would prepare-pasta coated in rich sauces, paired with robust local wines. I was filled with excitement. Unlike my best friend, I didn’t even bother to turn to see the sour expression twisting his face.
Luca looked tense the entire drive.
Jaw locked. Sunglasses on. One hand on his knee like how own knee had offended him. I wanted him to smile. To enjoy this.
“You need to lighten up,” I said. “Look at the view. It’s breathtaking. It’s a painting in real life. Enjoy it. Stop thinking so hard.”
“It is beautiful.”
“See?”
“You know what’s not beautiful?” He didn’t look at the window. “Spending time with my parents. It’s going to suck. You know how they are. It isn’t the first time that you will be around them. What is so great about that?”
I snorted. “Vineyards Luca. Nice food. You love your mom’s food. You will also get to see your siblings. Look at the bright side and stop letting your parents ruin this for you.”
That almost got a smile. Almost.
The car climbed past stone walls and a chapel. A tractor paused at a gate so we could pass, the driver looking at us like he knew exactly whose son was in this car.
We went through a village and passed a bar with three men outside it, then another stretch of vines, then a river flashing far below when the road bent.
The light kept changing. Gold on the leaves. Shadow in the ditches.
“Talk to me,” I said. “Use your words. It is too quiet. I do not like it. I usually can’t get you to shut up.”
We both couldn’t get the other to shut up at times. It was our thing.
“I used my words. I said it would suck. Pretty badly. Just you wait and see. You’ll be the one begging me to leave.”
12:25 Fri, Sep 25 TF
The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
5 vouchers
I doubted that. At the very least, I hoped it wouldn’t be that bad. I wanted to enjoy this trip, especially after embarrassing myself that drunken night.
“I guess we will just have to wait and see.” I teased him.
He tipped his head against the glass. “I can’t believe I agreed to come here. I shouldn’t have let her talk me into it.”
Her? As in his mother?
“And what about your sister?” I asked. “She would have been sad if you decided to skip her eighteenth birthday party.”
His mouth softened. “Alessia is the only reason I’m in this car.”
I had packed a dress I hoped was not too short for a Vescari dining room. I knew his mother could he quite judgemental at times. Especially when it came to me. She always acted like I took her son away.
“Then we do it for her,” I said. “We eat. We smile. We leave before your father starts the usual arguments. I will kick you under the table, that will be our sign to leave.”
“Why does the sign need to be one that would physically hurt me?” he demanded. “It should be the other way around.”
I narrowed my eyes, “you would hit a girl?”
He laughed, “which part of you are a girl?”
His hands tightened on the wheel when he asked it, like he wasn’t sure why he’d said it.
I ignored it, suddenly reminded that Luca didn’t see me as a woman.
A sign flashed past too fast for me to catch the first time. Castelvetro. Then another, smaller, private, letters set into a wall.
Tenuta Santa Chiara.
That was the name. Not a hotel. Not a village. The Vescari estate in the hills above Castelvetro di Modena, the place Luca had grown up in and then learned to run away from.
I said it under my breath so I would remember it later, when I needed to tell someone where I had been.
“Tell me something stupid,” he said.
“Luca Vescari.”
“What?” he asked.
“I told you something stupid.” I teased him.
He laughed. “Funny.”
Then he added. “I once told a guy who was interested in you that you had five children and was looking for someone to financially take care of them.”
2/4
25
G
O
12:25 Fri, Sep 25 TF.
The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
I gaped at him.
5 vouchers
མ
You did what?”
“You were asleep next to me in a hotel lobby. He clearly wasn’t your type. It worked. You’re welcome.”
He looked at me then, properly, sunglasses sliding down an inch. “Why are you mad?”
“I never mess with your dates or hook-ups, or
whatever you call it.” I snapped.
I wasn’t mad. I was never interested in any man who wasn’t Luca.
The road narrowed between two walls. I could hear the gravel under the tires. Then the we went higher and Tenuta Santa Chiara revealed itself the way old money liked to be revealed.
The driveway was enormous.
Pale stone. Lined with trees that had been planted by people who expected to still own the view in a hundred years.
It ran and ran, a pale river toward a house that did not pretend to be modest.
Honey-coloured walls. Dark shutters. A loggia along the first floor.
Beyond the house, more vines, a pool flashing under the sunlight.
Waw.
Such a beauty. I never got used to seeing this.
“Massive” did not cover it. It was the kind of place that made you understand why people worked their asses off to build something like this where their children and grandchildren could grow up.
Luca’s shoulders went tighter as we pulled up at the foot of the wide stone steps, the car crunching to a stop on gravel that looked like it got raked for a living.
Two staff were already coming down. The front doors were dark wood and taller than they needed to be.
Above them, I saw the name again, smaller, carved where guests were meant to read it and understand that they had arrived.
Tenuta Santa Chiara.
I bumped his arm. “Hey. Beautiful, remember? You said it yourself.”
“The house is beautiful,” he said. “The people inside it are difficult to be around.”
I looked up at the doors, at the windows, at the life waiting behind them.
“I’ve got you.” I said, simple, the way I said everything’s good before he put a helmet on. “Always have. Always will.”
12:25 Fri, Sep 251 TF·
The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
He didn’t answer. I don’t even think he heard me.
་ ་ཤ
5 vouchers
Just stared at the mansion like it might ask him to give up his happiness, and for a second I wanted to turn the car around and get out of here before his parents ruined his mood.
No.
We were staying.
This might be good for him.
AD
Comment
Send gift
No Ads
123 Fri, Sep 23
The Mockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.