Unrequited

15 - Old wounds

"Have you had a nice day Clara?" Luca asked as he put on a shirt for dinner while coming up to stand behind her.

Clara looked at his reflection in the mirror as she assessed the turquoise fitted halter dress she had on. The front was demure and misleading while the back plunged to her lower back. "It was nice Luca. But if I'm perfectly honest, I'm expecting there to be a catch to all of this. Like something nasty will come out of the woodwork - I'm predicting it in fact." Her gaze was frank, but she recognized with sadness that the underlying emotion she now felt for him always revolved around apprehension and foreboding.

Luca bent his head to gently kiss her bare shoulder and looked at her reflection, he smiled but it never reached his eyes. "I'm sorry that you feel this way, Clara. I understand and it's not your fault. I had a great time showing you the sites and I'm looking forward to more tomorrow. We'll stop to check out Liberty Bell and a few other things in Philly on the way through."

"I just don't understand what we're doing Luca. You have to see it from my perspective. Your behavior towards me now is like night and day compared to how you were and I don't understand why."

"For now just go with it, don't think about it too much. Just try and trust me." Luca moved to sit on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes.

"You're asking a lot of me. You want things from me that you so casually discarded only three months ago. What are you biding your time for? I feel like I'm knowingly walking into a trap - am I Luca?"

He paused, his expression gentle and his eyes held hers. "No you're not walking into a trap but I understand your reasons for feeling like this." He sighed deeply and rubbed his hands over his face. "Let's go and have a nice dinner OK and just take this one day at a time."

She didn't respond but nodded even as weariness settled in around her.

Luca had booked them into a fine dining restaurant just off Pennsylvania Avenue. He started to order a bottle of wine when she stopped him.

"I've noticed that you're not drinking alcohol lately. Are you going through some detox regime or something?"

Clara debated on whether she should tell him about the pregnancy and decided it was a conversation she'd rather have in private. "Yes, you could say that. I'm off alcohol for a while."

"So, tell me about yourself, Clara." Luca took a sip of the wine that he'd ordered for himself, peering at her over the rim of his glass.

She laughed humourlessly. "I'm sorry Luca. It's such an incongruous question for a husband to ask a wife. What would you like to know?"

He acknowledged her comment, somberly nodding. "How about we each take turns to ask a question and we both have to answer the same question?"

Clara conceded, "you start."

"Ok...let's start with what you studied and what do you do now?"

"I studied chemistry at Oxford but I knew that wasn't what I wanted to do. I just thought it would be useful when the time came for me to get involved in the business. Prior to papa's death, I worked within the research and development team at Hawthorn, looking at ways to use recycled plastics and plastic by-products in our manufacturing processes. Although I find it interesting, I know it's not my true calling."

"What is your true calling?"

"I love painting. I don't do it often enough. That's three questions, but you don't need to respond as I already know your answers."

Luca's eyes widened in surprise as he waited for her to continue and prove her point.

Clara observed him tentatively. "You started at Oxford one year early and studied finance and then completed an MBA. You're now the COO in your father's company and you would have pursued soccer if it wasn't for a knee injury which happened when you were around eighteen. You badly twisted it while playing a social game with friends."