One Winter Weekend

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

B ack at the hotel Lucy tucked the wine safely in her suitcase, and drew a hot bath scented with plenty of lavender and chamomile.

Soaking blissfully in the bubbles, she considered what to do the following day.

First, a lazy breakfast. Second, shopping; she was already compiling a mental list of things to look for in the little shops: a leather-bound journal for Dad, some blown-glass trinket for Mum (maybe a Venetian mask or a paperweight)?, perhaps a knitted scarf for her younger sister.

And of course, if I find some little things for myself, too, that wouldn’t be half bad.

Her eyes fell on her smartphone, sitting on the bathroom counter. It was tempting—oh so tempting—to call Dominic’s number, just to see what he was doing. They hadn’t spoken since the breakup, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t call just to say hi. She might get his voicemail, and then that would solve a lot of the awkwardness of having an actual conversation. And wouldn’t he be surprised when he heard she was calling from Venice?

She composed a message in her head:

Hi, Dominic, I’m in Venice and I was just thinking of you—remembering all the fun we had here last year. God, no—that was far too needy. Maybe: Hey Dominic, was just thinking of you and wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.

Too casual? What about: Hi Dominic, hope you’re doing well. Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime and catch up?

She half reached out for the phone before she pulled her arm back. Nope. Don’t do it.

This trip was about getting over heartbreak, not inviting it back in. Besides, she wasn’t sure what might be worse—having to talk to Dominic and dealing with a stilted conversation, or leaving a message that he might not return.

After all, it was possible he didn’t want to speak to her at all, and calling him might just confirm that for good—something she’d rather not deal with, in all honesty.

Or, he might return her call with some news about a new girlfriend—something she definitely didn’t want to hear about. At least if she didn’t call, she didn’t have to face the complications of a conversation. Dominic could stay safely tucked away in her memories and one day he would be just that—a memory.

Lucy finally drained the bathtub and wrapped herself up in a fluffy robe before settling down in bed with a magazine. She was drowsy from the wine and the warm water, and it was easy to put Dominic out of mind and curl up for bed.

She dreamed that night of standing on the bridge last winter with Dominic in the snow, hand in hand as they locked the padlock.

But in the morning she didn’t remember her dreams, and she whistled cheerily to herself as she got ready for another day.