Emma never stops believing in happiness
When she is a teenager, Emma wanders onto a bustling fair. A Romani woman with eyes as dark as midnight grabs her wrist and sings:
Beautiful, youll live in a sunny land where the air smells of sea and grapes.
Emma laughs and snaps back:
Nonsense! Ill never leave my town!
Life moves on. She marries James out of true love, they welcome a daughter, Lucy, and think about a second child. Before that, Emma returns to work so she doesnt lose her skills. Ill work for five or six years, then I can think about a baby, she tells herself.
Then a business trip flips her plans. Her neighbour, the nurse Megan, calls:
Emma, theyve taken James to the hospital! An ambulance arrived from an unknown address on the next street.
Family secrets pop up where you least expect them.
The return home feels like a bad thriller. That evening Emma rushes to the hospital, her heart thudding in her throat. James lies pale, his arm in a sling, avoiding her gaze.
Where did they take you from? she asks quietly.
Silence says more than words.
It soon emerges that a lonely woman, a colleague of James, has been living in that flat for over a year, and they have been friends. Everyone has a different temperament. Some turn a blind eye, some start a scene and then, gritting their teeth, serve soup to the cheater. Emma, however, is of a different mould. She doesnt wait for James to come home from the ward; theres someone to tend to the wounded.
She packs the essentials into an old suitcase, grabs Lucys trembling hand, and walks out of their shared flat without looking back.
We start fresh, darling she says, squeezing Lucys tiny palm.
Their mother takes them in at first. Soon after, Emma divorces James, splits the flat, and takes out a mortgage. She lives on autopilot, trying to secure a future for herself and Lucy.
Years later, exhausted by work and solitude, Emma flies to England, staying at the welcoming home of her mothers friend Olivia, only an hours drive from Bath. She hesitates, worries about money, then suddenly books a ticket when life feels unbearable. She hopes the English sunshine will melt the ice in her heart.
Olivia listens to Emmas bitter confessions Ill never trust again, Love doesnt exist for me and cant stay silent. She quietly calls a friend who runs a local vineyard:
Thomas, she says in a low voice, find me Luke. Tell him I have a bride waiting.
Emmas thoughts are far from romance. She is already in her soft robe, reading a book to chase away gloom, when a dark southern night blankets the sky.
A knock sounds at the door. A minute later Olivia bursts into the bedroom, glowing:
Emma, get up! Your fiancé has arrived!
What rubbish? Emma chuckles, but she pulls on her robe and heads to the lounge.
There he stands. Tall, with silver at his temples and laughing eyes. Luke. He clutches a helmet, and behind him leans a battered motorbike against the wall. He has ridden twenty miles through winding hills under the stars just to see a stranger.
Olivia said youre a Russian princess? he says in broken English, his accent a melody.
Emma, stunned, reaches for his hand. Luke wraps her in his large, warm palms and doesnt let go. They sit on the sofa, hands entwined. He barely speaks English; she knows no Italian. Yet their conversation of gestures, smiles and gazes flows so rapidly and thrillingly that Olivia, smiling, steps away, leaving them alone with the budding miracle.
He departs at dawn, saddling his iron horse again. Later Emma learns his life has been a string of misfortunes: two failed marriages, no children, no home. He lives in a tiny flat above his brothers garage and has nearly given up on happiness.
Ten days before his next departure they agree on everything. Ill come back, Emma says simply in response to his proposal. Well live together.
The next months back home whirl in chaos: she loses her job, packs, has tough talks with relatives who cant grasp her madness. Her phone buzzes nonstop.
My sunshine, how are you? I miss you. Luke
Our new window looks onto an olive grove. Your room is waiting. Your Luke
The sevenyear age gap (Emma is older) and Lucy, now twelve, do not bother him.
One afternoon, sitting on the sunlit terrace of their new house, Emma leans into his shoulder and asks:
Luke, why did you trust us so quickly? Why werent you scared?
He turns, the Tuscan sea shimmering in his eyes:
An old winemaker once told me Id meet a woman from the east, a woman whose soul is a storm and whose heart seeks calm. He said shed bring the luck Ive cultivated in my vineyards but never found. Thats you, Emma.
And? she whispers, tears pricking her eyes. Did you find that luck?
Luke says nothing. He pulls her close and kisses her as if it were both their first and last kiss. Then, with his bright smile, he declares:
She found me herself! Im endlessly happy.
Life finally falls into place.
A wonderful job appears, they secure a mortgage on a cottage with hill views. Luke grows fond of stepdaughter Lucy, who now learns Italian with enthusiasm. In the mornings he brings Emma cinnamonspiced coffee to bed; evenings fill the house with the scent of pasta he cooks divinely. His love shows up in bouquets of wildflowers on the table, gentle touches, and the caring glance he gives her each sunrise.
Emma blossoms. She cant believe she once thought lasting happiness didnt exist. Now she knows: happiness isnt a myth. It walks the world, stubbornly seeking its halves, and when it finds them, it binds them together so tightly that no storm can ever frighten them again.
