"You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days."
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Matilda Monroe always dreamed of traveling the world. She decides to leave her life behind and spend the summer in Italy.
Matilda comes across the Sunset Lake winery...
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Harry and I have been sitting next to each other in his living room for a while now. We were still in our bathing suits and Harry was kind enough to let me wear one of his shirts over my bikini.
Neither of us said a word. We've exchanged small talk such as, are you hungry? Or the weather today was beautiful. Or are you sure you're not hungry? Are you thirsty?
It was awkward and I wanted to address the elephant in the room. Robert's voice has been inside my head since we left. The temptation I had to ask him what happened is strong, but I didn't want to pry. He's keeping it from me for a reason and I can respect that.
I check the clock Harry has hanging on his wall and see that it was 7pm.
"I think I should go," I said. "Are you going to be alright?"
Harry puts my hand into his and brings it up to his lips. He begins to softly peck at my hand, over and over again. My heart sinks as those butterflies start up again.
"Please don't go," He mumbles into my hand. "Stay here with me."
I scooch closer to him and place my free hand on top of his, "Okay, I won't go anywhere."
He looks over at me with a tear streaming down his cheek. I quickly wipe it away and kiss his cheek.
"Would you want to take a bath with me?" Harry asks, I smile and nod my head.
He takes my hand into his as I follow him up the steps and into his bathroom. I look around to see a rustic framed mirror, almost covering the entire wall, hanging above his bathroom vanity. The room has tan cement walls and wood flooring. He has a stand in shower with a see through door and next to it sits a deep, clawfoot bathtub.
Harry turns the water on and faces me as the tub fills. I bite the inside of my cheek. I feel my nerves beginning to get the best of me.
This is the first time he is going to see me naked. What if I'm not good enough? Everyday I stand in front of my mirror and pick at every flaw I have. My scars, my stomach pouch, and even the stretch marks in between my thighs.
I'm grateful for my body. It's what keeps me alive. Before coming to Italy, I was seeing a therapist. She was the one that taught me how every imperfection I have is what makes me who I am.
Every flaw on my body has some story connected to it, good or bad. She was right. I still vividly remember how I got some of my scars. The memories they hold are ones I wish I could forget.
"Are you okay?" Harry asks, looking down at me.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I tell him and grab the hem of my shirt.
