In a heartbeat (Heartbeat #1)

by Kostova, Teodora

  “I can show you, if you want.” Stella realised Max was still talking and she hadn’t heard a word in the last two minutes.

  “Sorry, what?” she asked, bringing her full attention back to him again.

  “Where did you go? You looked all dreamy for a moment. You have to stop thinking about me all the time, you know,” he teased with a charming smile.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “So, I was asking if you wanted me to show you some of the houses I’ve got my eye on. They’re not far; most of them are here in Tuscany.”

  “Sure, I’d love to. Tomorrow?”

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  By the time they’d finished their meal and cleaned up the kitchen, it was past midnight. Exhaustion hit Stella so hard she could barely drag her feet upstairs. Thankfully, she’d already showered before dinner, so all she had to do now was take her clothes off and climb into bed.

  “I’ll take a quick shower before I join you,” Max whispered in her ear as Stella was already drifting away. She managed to nod and the last thing she heard was the shower being turned on in the en suite bathroom.

  Some time later, Stella woke up, disoriented. For a moment she had no idea where she was. Her heart rate sped up and her breathing became shallow. All she could feel was Max’s warm body behind her, his leg crossed over hers, his arms hugging her close to him. She instantly calmed down, remembering all the events of the day and realising it was still the middle of the night.

  “Go back to sleep, babe,” he murmured, his breath tingling the nape of her neck. She smiled and, sighing contently, closed her eyes and obeyed.

  The next day was one of the most wonderful days of Stella’s life. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so carefree and so happy. After making breakfast and coffee for her, Max took her on a road trip to show her some houses.

  Tuscany came as close to heaven on Earth as Stella could imagine. She couldn’t stop staring out of the window and memorising the scenery. London would feel so claustrophobic when she got home after this.

  The first house they saw was so run-down that Stella wondered how it hadn’t collapsed yet. It was one big, three-storey rectangle, with huge holes on the roof and partially missing walls. The land around it was neglected and in a desperate need of TLC.

  Max stared at it with such passion and hope that if Stella didn’t know what he was looking at, she’d have thought they were standing in front of the Playboy mansion.

  “What do you think, babe?” He grinned at her, taking her hand and leading her closer to the house.

  “It’s ... I think it’s ... old. And barely standing.”

  Max chuckled, walked behind her and hugged her, bringing his mouth next to her ear before he spoke.

  “Close your eyes,” he said, quietly, brushing his lips over her earlobe. She did. “Now imagine there were no holes on the roof and it was covered in brand-new red tiles. Imagine smoke coming out of the chimney. Imagine dark wood frames and huge windows. A dark wood, solid front door. Imagine curtains over the windows inside.” Stella smiled, keeping her eyes closed and envisioning what Max told her. It started taking shape in her mind and she really liked what she saw. “Now, let’s step inside. Do you see the hardwood floors? Do you feel the underfloor heating? Look to your right – do you see the original, completely restored fireplace? Do you feel the heat from the flames inside?” The timbre of Max’s voice had gone low and husky. His warm breath on her ear was driving Stella crazy. She wasn’t thinking about the house anymore; she imagined them sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, kissing, tugging at each other’s clothes. A soft moan escaped her lips involuntarily and Max’s arms tightened around her. “Stella? Are you still imagining the house?” He kissed her neck under the ear, scattering her thoughts way beyond any images of the house. “I haven’t even described the other rooms yet. Especially the master bedroom. I have great plans for that one.” Stella felt him smile against her skin. Turning around to face him, she opened her eyes and said,

  “I’ll take it.” Max threw his head back and laughed.

  “I thought you said it was old and barely standing.”

  “Well, you can be very persuasive.” He dipped his head down and kissed her.

  “This is what I want, baby. I want a house like this, surrounded by my own land, having an orchard, a vineyard, a vegetable patch, two dogs. I want to restore as many houses like this one as I can, give them the life they deserve.” The passion in his eyes was contagious and Stella felt her lips spreading into a huge grin. The life Max wanted for himself was amazing, and knowing him, she was certain that one day he’d achieve everything he dreamed of.

  Stella wanted to tell him all that, but behind her smile there was a pang of sadness. For a moment she had imagined herself in that future scenario with Max, but then she had to mentally shake herself and remember that her future was very uncertain – and it didn’t include Max. Afraid that if she spoke he might feel it, she just kissed him, trying to push the sorrow away before he picked up on it.

  “Come on, let’s go. We have some more houses to see,” he said when she had separated her lips from his.

  The other three houses they saw were in no better condition, but Stella looked at them with an open mind. She didn’t see the ruins of a brick building anymore; she saw a house full of life and possibilities.

  It was way past lunchtime when they finished their road trip and Stella’s tummy rumbled to remind her that they hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Max looked at her and smiled, pulling the car over. He took two paper bags from the boot and gave one to Stella, gesturing for her to follow him. They sat down on the grass, a few yards away from the road, and ate the sandwiches Max had made for them.

  “This is just to tide us over. I have plans to make something special for dinner tonight.”

  Of course he does. How can I be so lucky and so doomed all at the same time?

  Dinner was indeed special. Max made lamb chops with some magical sauce, the ingredients of which he refused to disclose. Stella didn’t usually eat lamb, but the way Max had prepared it made her taste buds leap for joy and cry out for more. The evening was gorgeous and warm, and Max suggested they eat dessert in the jacuzzi outside. Stella ran upstairs to put her bikini on, while Max cut fruit into pieces and arranged them in a big bowl.

  He fed her strawberries, melon and peaches, and kissed her after each bite. At some point he had managed to remove her bikini and discard it at the edge of the jacuzzi without Stella even noticing. Not that she complained.

  He trailed his fingers along her back as she sat in his lap straddling him and literally eating out of his hand.

  “What does your tattoo mean?” he asked, as he trailed the symbols on her back.

  “Love, dreams and luck.”

  Max raised an eyebrow, expecting some clarification.

  “Those are the three things I think no one can live without. You have to love something or someone; it doesn’t matter if it’s romantic or not, but if you don’t have anything you love in your life, then you’re lost. Damaged. Broken.” Stella sighed, and paused before she spoke again. “You need to have a dream, otherwise what is there to look forward to? Without a dream it’s like you’re walking in a constantly dark tunnel and there’s no light at the other end. And you need luck, of course, because without it things just don’t work out, however hard you try.”

  Max stared at her as she spoke, his brows slightly furrowed over his astonished eyes.

  “You’re right. I’ve never thought about it before, but you’re right,” he said and fed Stella a strawberry. As she bit the ripe fruit, some juice trickled down her chin and instantly Max’s eyes glazed over as he dipped his head and licked it.

  “You know, I think there’s one final thing to add to your list, though. Something as important as the other three,” he murmured against her lips.

  “What?”

  “Hope.”

  Later that night, as they lay in be
d in each other’s arms, Max sighed and said,

  “Do you remember that night in the car after we’d worked in the bar together, when I told you about my meltdown after my dad died?” asked Max, brushing his knuckles over Stella’s upper arm absent-mindedly.

  “Of course.”

  “I told you that what made me get my act together was beating a guy into a coma. That was part of the truth. There was something else that made me realise what a worthless piece of shit I’d become. Beppe had been my best friend ever since I can remember. He, Gia and I were inseparable. He clung to us for dear life. He was at our house so much that our parents started treating him as one of theirs.”

  “Why? Where were his parents?”

  “His dad was very violent. He blamed Beppe and his mum for ruining his life, when it was the other way around. His mother’s parents disowned her when she married his dad. They hated the guy, and with good reason. She was pregnant, and blinded by love, and couldn’t see what a bastard he was until it was too late. When my dad died and I started spiralling out of control, Beppe tried to be there for me, even though he had a lot of problems of his own. Gia withdrew herself from both of us, and from the world. Effectively I’d lost my sister as much as I’d lost my dad. I started hating Beppe and his constant nagging; I thought he didn’t know what I was going through, that he had no right to tell me what to do or what I needed. He stuck by me, even though I was a jerk to him. If it wasn’t for him I would have ended up much worse than I did.

  “A few days before I almost killed that guy, Beppe was admitted in hospital. His dad had beaten him so badly that he thought he’d killed him. The coward that he was, he took a knife and killed his wife before plunging it into his own chest.”

  Stella’s hand flew to her mouth. She was speechless, because a huge lump had formed in her throat. Max hugged her a bit closer before he continued,

  “I found out about it from the news on TV. I was so absorbed in my own fucking life that I’d left my best friend alone and helpless. I couldn’t even bring myself to visit him in the hospital. That night I got drunk and wanted to die – I felt so useless. I don’t even remember how the fight with that guy started, I just knew that I poured all my desperation, grief, self-pity and anger out on him.”

  Max’s voice shook and he paused to collect himself.

  “Max, you don’t have to tell me this.” Stella knew that talking about it made him relive it all over again and she didn’t want to see him in such pain.

  “No, I need to. I have a point with all this, I promise – just hear me out. The day I visited that guy in hospital, I gathered the courage to visit Beppe as well. He was out of intensive care and was making good progress with his recovery. When he saw me, the pain in his eyes almost killed me. He wasn’t angry with me; he was hurt beyond repair. And not just by what had happened to him, but, I later realised, by the way I looked. He saw right through me, and knew that I’d reached the point where I either fixed myself or there would be no going back. He didn’t say anything to me then; he just stared at me. He knew he wasn’t in any condition to help me, not physically, not mentally. I couldn’t take it any longer and left.

  “The next time I saw him was two years later. After he got better, he moved in with his grandfather – his mom’s dad – here in Tuscany. He was the only family Beppe had left and since he was seventeen, he needed a guardian. He didn’t come back to Genoa when he turned eighteen, because his grandfather needed him here. He came back a year later, after his grandfather decided to sell everything he owned, apart from this property, and move to Sicily – where he originally came from – to retire. He gave most of the money to Beppe and made him promise that he’d live his life, make something of himself, find a dream, a goal.

  “When Beppe came back it was as if he’d never left. The moment I saw him I felt that same connection we used to have before. He forgave me without a second thought, although I didn’t deserve it.”

  Max paused again, overwhelmed by the emotion of talking about his and Beppe’s past and the love he felt for his friend.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say – and I know I promised we wouldn’t talk about this while we were here: but I’m just going to say this and not mention it ever again. You have to talk to Lisa, let her explain where she’s coming from and find it in your heart to forgive her. She’s your closest friend; you’ve shared so much. Throwing a connection like that away because of the feelings she has for Gino, which I’m sure she fought against but just couldn’t help, would be unforgivable. I know you’ll regret it if you don’t allow yourself the chance to understand. And forgive. You know Lisa, and you know she’d never do anything without a good reason. You know how big her heart is.” Max tugged his finger under Stella’s chin tilting it upwards to look in her eyes. She didn’t resist. Her eyes were glassed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment. “Promise me you’ll try, Stella.”

  Nodding, she closed her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks.

  They stayed in Beppe’s house for one more day. Stella had already made up her mind that she’d talk to Lisa and try her best to forgive her, not only because she’d promised Max, but because he was right about everything. They had a very special connection that she couldn’t simply throw away because they didn’t agree with each other’s decisions. Lisa was a very responsible person; she’d never do anything without considering the consequences, and if she felt caring for that Gino guy was the right thing to do, then maybe it was. Maybe she needed help and advice. Stella was sure her cousin hadn’t shared her secret with anyone and was carrying it around, like a huge burden, all on her own.

  Stella needed one more day away from reality, however. She liked being all alone with Max in the middle of nowhere. He took such good care of her, spoiling her with gorgeous food, making her laugh. If she could, Stella would have stayed here with him forever.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Max wanted to come in with Stella after he’d parked the car in the driveway, but she insisted on going alone. This was between her and Lisa, and as much as she appreciated Max’s support, she needed to ‘grow some balls’ and face her cousin. Alone.

  He left, making her promise him to call straight after they’d finished talking.

  Inside, Lisa was sitting on the sofa, waiting for Stella. She’d texted her before they left Beppe’s villa and knew her cousin would wait for her.

  “Hi,” she said, standing up anxiously, uncertainty shadowing her usually bright green eyes.

  “Hi,” Stella replied, leaving her bag on the floor and moving to sit down on the other sofa. Lisa sat back down, her hands fidgeting in her lap. She was nervous, which wasn’t a good sign. If she was so sure Stella would understand her reasoning, she wouldn’t be so nervous. “So talk. I’m ready to listen with an open mind to what you have to say, Lis.”

  Clearing her throat, Lisa began, but was unable to meet Stella’s eyes.

  “I met Gino a few weeks before the accident. He came into the gallery looking to buy a very specific painting. Of course I knew who he was; his photo was constantly sprawled all over the gossip magazines. I had my mind made up about him based on what I’d read, and I guess I probably looked down on him a bit. He might be a billionaire’s son, but in my eyes he was nothing more than a spoiled, overprivileged playboy. He picked up on my opinion of him almost immediately and didn’t seem pleased. But it turned out that he knew a lot about art and was really passionate about it, so as we started talking paintings, I felt that maybe I was being too harsh in my judgement. It wasn’t fair to form an opinion of him based solely on gossip. I’d never met him before.

  “So anyway, he bought the painting he was looking for and left. The next week he came back, but I wasn’t working that day. He asked for me specifically and refused anybody else’s help, so the owner of the gallery called me and begged me to come in and deal with him. I did, and sold him another painting. Before he left, he asked me out for a drink. I really didn’t want to go, but felt tha
t I’d let my boss down if I didn’t – after all, Gino was a huge client to gain for such a relatively small gallery. So we went out that evening and I had a really good time. In private Gino was nothing like the papers made him out to be. I felt this weird connection between us that I couldn’t explain.

  “When he dropped me off at home, he kissed me. I felt as if I was struck by lightning. I’ve never, ever, felt such intense emotion during a kiss. When he pulled away I knew he’d felt something similar, too. It was in his eyes.”

  Lisa paused and brushed a tear away from her cheek. In normal circumstances Stella would have gone to sit next to her and hug her, offering as much support as she needed. Not now, though. Lisa had to finish the story before Stella decided if she deserved any consolation at all.

  “He never called me after that. I saw him the day of the accident with a brunette wrapped around his arm; they were walking around the shopping centre, all happy and cosy together. When I went past them he saw me. He looked straight at me, regret and pain written all over his face. I couldn’t deal with that; I was too hurt and embarrassed to talk to him. So I just walked past them as if I didn’t know him.

  “That same night he crashed into our car and was left in a coma for several days. I don’t know why I went to see him in the hospital; I guess I needed some kind of closure. He looked so vulnerable and fragile on the bed, with all those machines plugged in around him. I sat next to him and felt that the only way I’d ever be able to move on was to forgive him for what he did, and through him forgive the man who killed my dad.” Another tear escaped Lisa’s eye and Stella felt the familiar hot streak down her cheek as well. “I told him the story of my life, thinking he couldn’t hear me. In the end I said I forgave him and turned to leave. I don’t know why, but I felt the inexplicable need to pause at the door and look at him one last time.” Lisa lifted her eyes to Stella’s for the first time since she’d started talking. The anguish in them squeezed at Stella’s heart. “I saw a tear slip down from the corner of his eye. He’d heard everything that I’d said.”