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“Sebastian,” I said, softly. “You don
’t have to remind me: it’s not something I’m likely to forget.”

“Sorry. It
’s just… I thought about it a lot at the time and, seeing you again this past week, well, it’s brought it all back.”

“For me, too.”

He smiled and leaned over to run a long finger down my cheek, before lying back again.

“Do you know how amazing you were that night?
You took care of me after my dad had beaten the shit out of me.” He closed his eyes. “I thought my heart was going to fucking stop when you undressed me and you took your clothes off. And then you touched me and my cock just exploded. I thought you’d laugh at me or something: it was so fucking humiliating.” He paused, remembering that awful and wonderful and dreadful night. “But you didn’t. You made me feel like a man. I remember every word that you said: you told me it was going to be okay, and I didn’t know how it could be, but somehow you made the world go away, like it was just you and me.”

I was silent, remembering how crushed he
’d been that night, how broken, and how the act of making love had somehow healed him. I wondered, now, if it had been the same for me. It was certainly the moment when my life took a completely different road from the one I’d been on.

His admission touched me deeply. I
’d forgotten how painfully honest he could be. Even though he’d been so young when I’d known him before, or maybe
because
he’d been so young, he’d never held back with me. I couldn’t help thinking that in some ways I’d had the best of him then, before life had made him bitter. Although his early life had been far from perfect, he’d been the sweetest, kindest person; the gentlest, most thoughtful and selfless lover – and a good friend.

“That
’s how you make me feel, Caro, like the world just goes away and it’s just you and me. I… I didn’t think I’d ever feel like that again. All those other women, I know it bothers you, but it was just sex. It wasn’t… this.”

“So, there was never anyone special, where it was more than just sex?”

He looked thoughtful.

“There was one girl, Stac
ey that I sort of dated for a while. She was… okay, but I wasn’t interested in anything long-term.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged and looked away.

“
I heard her telling her girlfriend that she’d got me ‘tamed’.”

I winced inwardly. How dumb had this girl been to even think that she
’d ‘tamed’ him, let alone to say it out loud?

“Oh, I can guess how much you enjoyed hearing that. What
did you do?”

He
twitched his shoulder in an irritated gesture.

“I slept with her best friend.”

I took a sharp intake of breath. “I see.”

He didn
’t look guilty or upset, and I felt a brief frisson of sadness for Stacey and the way he’d treated her, especially when I knew he was capable of such gentleness.

“You asked me why Ches
’s wife didn’t approve of me, and that’s the reason,” he went on. “Stacey was a friend of hers. And before you ask, no, I didn’t sleep with Amy – it was another girl. I would never do that to Ches.”

I took a deep breath.

“Well, I’m not surprised Amy doesn’t like you after you did that to her friend… and it’s not very reassuring to hear that you’ve shown your dick to half the female population of California – and Paris, or so I’ve heard – but that’s your business. But surely you see that you made things difficult for Ches.”

“How
’s that?” he said, rather testily.

“You put him in the middle, making him choose between his best friend and his wife.”

“What?” he said, angrily. “How was I making him ‘choose’?”

“Well, I bet you anything Amy would have said she didn
’t want you in the house if you were going to treat her friends like that, and Ches would have had to find some way of defending what was, frankly, indefensible behavior.”

I paused
, wondering if Ches would have explained about Sebastian’s history – our history – as a reason for his friend’s actions. I hated the thought that Sebastian had used ‘all those women’ because he’d imagined that I’d left him without a backwards glance. It was such an ugly distortion of the truth.

“You get on your fucking high
horse damn quickly, Caro,” he snapped.

I was taken aback
at his angry tone. “I’m just saying…”

“Wh
at? What the fuck are you ‘just saying’?” he said, his voice growing louder with each syllable. “You were a fucking journalist, Caro! You could have found me any time if you’d wanted to. It would have been so easy for you. So easy! I didn’t even know your fucking last name. I was so desperate to find you that I even tried to see that prick of a husband of yours, but he slammed the door in my face and called my CO. I was on fucking punishment duties for weeks after that. But you didn’t give a shit, did you? It’s just lies. You just tell me what you think I want to hear. How can I ever trust you?”

“Sebastian, I…”

“I really want to hear this, Caro. I really want to hear how hard you tried to find me,” he jeered. “You knew my fucking father was forcing me to enlist
because of you
, but you didn’t even bother to make a few fucking phone calls.
Three years
I waited for you, Caro.
Three fucking years
, while you were off building your career and having a great life traveling all over the world. So yeah, I fucked some women who deserved it, because I’d already been fucked over once and I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”

I felt sick. All th
at hatred and anger pouring out of him.

“It wasn
’t like that, Sebastian. Just listen to me for a moment! Let me explain, I…”

“Go tell it to the Marines, Caro,” he
sneered, “because I’m not listening.”

I needed to get some space from him
: the bathroom seemed like it could be a place of refuge until he’d calmed down. His anger was scaring me and I didn’t want to say anything that I’d regret later, although it was clear he wasn’t having the same reservations.

I sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my T-shirt.

“Where are you going?” he shouted. “Running away again? Yeah, well, it’s what you do best, isnnt st it? Run away. Fuck that! I’ll save you the trouble.”

He leapt out of bed, pulled on his jeans, thrust his bare feet into his boots and scooped up his T-shirt and jacket.

And then he walked out.

A moment later I heard the throaty roar of his motorcycle.

I pulled the sheet around me tightly, wondering what the hell had just happened. It was hard to believe that the man who’d made such sweet love to me could talk to me like that. Or rather, yell at me like that.

So much anger – at me.

It seemed clear now that the gentle side he’d shown had simply been a mask to lure me in, a mask that hid his true feelings.

But he
’d gone and I had no idea if he was coming back. Well,
fuck him!
He wasn’t the only one who’d suffered; he wasn’t the only one who’d had to struggle. Oh sure, my life had been so easy: I’d cleaned other people’s toilets for nearly three years before my writing earned me enough to give it up.
How dare
he speak to me like that!

I jumped out of bed and whirled around the room shoving everything in
to his small overnight bag. I knew his phone and passport were in his jacket, so he hadn’t left anything that he needed.
Not even me
, said the sad, little voice in my head.

I thought through my options: I could book a cab to take me into Genoa
, and from there, take a flight to Geneva. Then it was back to Plan A: wait for my permits to come through for Leatherneck – assuming Sebastian didn’t try to screw that up again, although the odds didn’t look good, given his current rage – do my job and get on with my life. And then I’d write off this episode to experience. Or something.

But it hurt: it really hurt. Just as I
’d begun to trust him and let him back into my life…

And then I wondered if he
’d be back after he cooled off. I really didn’t want to face very-angry-and-scary Sebastian again tonight. But if I wedged the chair under the door, I wouldn’t be the least surprised if he’d just decide to kick it in. Not that we’d be welcome staying at Casa Giovina after tonight’s stunt anyway, but I didn’t want to add a broken door to our troubles.

In the end, I pulled on my T-shirt and panties and tried to get some sleep. After thrashing around for several hours and replaying the whole horrible scene over and over, I finally lapsed into unconsciousness about an hour before dawn.

My alarm pulled me awake at 7
am
and I immediately looked over to the other side of the bed: it was cold and empty – like me.

Fierce disappointment mixed with relief washed over me.
At least I didn’t have to face his recriminations again. Wake-up arguments definitely didn’t do it for me.

I headed for the shower
, but the tepid water did little to relieve my heavy mind. I didn’t feel much like breakfast, but the least I could do was apologize to the hosts for our behavior. His behavior.

I wandered out to the patio and saw that the little table had been laid for two. I felt hot tears prick my eyes and I angrily scrubbed them away.

When I heard footsteps behind me, I turned hopefully. But it wasn’t Sebastian and it wasn’t the owner; instead the little grandmother was walking stiffly towards me, carrying a pot of coffee.

“Sit, young woman,” she said. “And don
’t worry: it will all seem better once you have eaten. He’ll be back.”

I swallowed and tried to smile. She patted my shoulder sympathetically and left me alone.

The coffee was very good: rich and strong and just the shot in the arm that I needed. I drank almost the whole pot, then managed to eat a small plate of fette biscottate with salted butter. And I did feel better. And angry.
Really fucking angry.
How dare he talk me into this road trip, then drop me in the middle of nowhere the minute it suited him!

Or maybe this was his plan all along: maximum humiliation.
Screw him!

I marched back to my room, scooped up the
overnight bag and went to find the owner.

“Ah, signorina,” he said, worriedly.

“Please accept my apologies for last night’s disturbances,” I said, with polite formality. “How much do I owe you for the room?”