was home, where he belonged, and ready now for his daughter to leave properly.
She walked towards him and Luka could see the glimmer of her mother’s cross.
Guilt, fear, shame left him as her eyes met his.
Sophie walked and then, as her father let go of her arm, she ran—those last few steps she ran—to the shield of his arms and the freedom they afforded her.
To him.
Luka kissed the bride before the service had even started.
They needed that moment even if it made the priest cough.
‘You’re here,’ he said.
‘So are you.’
‘Always.’
Paulo stood, even though he was offered a seat. Luka turned just once and his eyes met Angela’s and thanked her.
She, he was sure, was the one who had told the rest of the townsfolk to give these people the chance they deserved and to forgive Paulo now, while they still could.
Their vows were heartfelt.
‘I love you,’ Luka said. ‘I always have and I always will.’
‘I love you,’ came Sophie’s response. ‘I always have and I always will.’ Then she deviated from the priest’s words for she made a small addition. ‘And I shall try to remember that in all that I say and do.’
No one understood why the groom laughed.
Matteo was the perfect groomsman, even if cynicism was written all over his face, for just yesterday Luka had told him this wedding would never take place, that it was a sham.
But for now he went along with it and handed over the rings.
And tried not to glance at the bridesmaid!
Luka slid on the ring and then he too deviated from tradition, for he went into this pocket and took out another ring and placed it next on her finger.
It was rose gold and the diamond was emerald cut and stood high, and Bella stared at it for a moment, her eyes filling with tears.
She remembered staring in Giovanni’s window and a diamond catching her eye.
The hope that when Luka got out, that one day...
There wasn’t time to dwell on it for now.
They were man and wife.
The church bells were ringing loudly in Bordo Del Cielo today and as they stepped out, it was to a true Sicilian celebration.
The street was lined with tables and dressed in ribbons and flowers, the trees were lit with lights that would glow brighter as evening fell.
Angela and an old friend were helping Paulo out of the church.
‘Dance with your father,’ Luka said.
She did.
And to hear him laughing and proud was the best medicine for both of them...but then she was back to Luka’s arms.
She glanced over his shoulder and smiled. Bella and Matteo were dancing a duty dance, not that it looked like duty for Bella—her eyes were closed and her head was resting on his chest. Only Matteo looked as if he was struggling.
‘He’s angry,’ Luka said. ‘He thinks that she is still...’ He looked down at Sophie. ‘I want to catch up on all the years we have missed, I want to know everything.’
‘You shall.’
‘Your father is so happy.’
‘He wants us to have a baby now.’ Sophie smiled.
‘You could lie and say you are...’
‘Knowing him, he would live for another nine months just to make sure that we were telling the truth.’
‘We are,’ Luka said. ‘This is for ever.’
‘That ring?’ Sophie asked. ‘Is it from Giovanni’s?’
Luka nodded. ‘As soon as I got out of court I went and bought it. I wanted to take you to London, not as a friend or a date. Those months in prison had taught me many things...’
Sophie could hardly stand to think of all she had dismissed that day, all the foolish pride she had held onto just to be right.
‘I can afford something nicer now.’ Luka offered.
‘Nothing could be nicer,’ Sophie said. ‘It belongs with me.’
‘So do you.’
SOPHIE LAY IN that delicious place between sleep and waking and for a moment she thought she was dreaming.
The lap of the sea, the slow motion of rising and falling with the waves, and Sophie knew she was awake.
She was on honeymoon with Luka.
They were taking their time to sail from Corsica to the Greek islands, stopping where they chose to and just enjoying the journey.
Life was better than she had ever dreamed it might be.
It had been an emotional time. Her father had held on long enough to know that Sophie was expecting a baby. He had seen a summer and a winter in his beloved town and finally he now lay with Rosa.
Sophie lay there thinking about the past months.
It had been Sophie who had thrown her mother’s necklace in the grave. It was her mother’s, not hers.
She didn’t want to wear it day in, day out.
Instead, she wore her mother’s earrings, for they spoke of the happiest days with Luka.
And there had been so many of them.
Yes, she was stubborn, but never about that.
‘Morning,’ Luka said.
‘Where were you?’
‘Thinking,’ he said. ‘About us. Are you happy?’
‘So happy.’ she said, and then looked into his navy eyes. ‘And cross with myself for all the time we wasted.’
‘We needed that time,’ Luka interrupted. ‘We were young, there was a lot of pain and little of it was of our making.’
‘Even so.’
‘We know that what we have
