Fighting For Love

XXIV - At Last

Final chapter <3 <3

By the way, DO READ THE FINAL AUTHOR NOTE MIGHT BE THE MOST IMPORTANT YET.

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July 1st 1940 - 18:00

The sun was approaching the horizon when we finally reached the gates of the estate. Two tall brick columns with stone lions sitting on top guarded the iron gate.

"At last!" He said, hopping off the wagon to open the gates.

The keys had been mailed with the letter and he'd kept them in his pocket since we left Paris, which, in retrospective, felt like a lifetime ago. He used one of them to open the gates, the other was for the front door of the house and the last one for the barn. We continued our trip up a hill, through a road paved with gravel.

When we reached the top of the hill, I saw yet another hill in front of us, on top of which lay the house and a nearby building which I assumed to be the barn. The house was still some ten minutes away, from what I could gather by the distance. Along the gravel path, there were beautiful spruce trees, which served as a kind of wall to the grapes that grew behind them.

Otto had told me that his uncle, at some point, produced and sold wine to nearby cities for a cheaper price, partly because the wine was not that great, but mostly because the competition in Tuscany was quite strong. While telling me this, he suggested that we should continue the business, to which I replied positively. I did not know a thing about winemaking, running a vineyard, or planting grapes, but I could eventually learn how to.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked me, bluntly, dragging me out of my thoughts.

"What do you mean?" At that moment, this was an honest question, as I had been so caught up in my own thoughts that I had forgotten everything else.

"I noticed you've been acting strange since we left Arezzo. Is everything alright? Did you not like the house? We can paint it; we have to, actually, it's been abandoned for two years at the very least."

"No, it's not that, it's a lovely estate, really, I liked it a lot."

"Then what is it? You know you can count on me for everything, don't you? Tell me and I will try to help."

"Who's Cornelia?" I finally asked, immediately feeling better for having taken out the thing that had been stuck in my throat for hours.

"Cornelia Visconti, you met her." He answered, unsure of where I was going, "Daughter of Bartolomeo and Zita Visconti, sister of Federico, you also met him. They've been my friends since I first visited Italy. We have spent every summer since 1932 together."

"Just friends?" He nodded and, by the look on his face, I realized he knew what I was talking about.

"Well, yes but not quite. I never got to formally date Cornelia, mostly because we only saw each other in the summer, but we had something three summers back."

"Was it special?"

He sighed, "I cannot say it wasn't good, because then I would be lying, but, special? That's a strong word. It didn't come close to what Martha and I had, for instance, so no: I guess it was not that special. Plus, I am not even interested in her anymore and I haven't been in years. I honestly forgot that she existed."

"She seemed to be quite interested in you, though," I said, remembering the smile she gave when she saw him.

"I cannot believe my ears. Braun, are you jealous?"

"Oh, please, don't be ridiculous." I was far too proud to admit that, even though he was right. Jealousy is a terrible look on everybody, even I had to acknowledge that, but it was hard not to feel it. I tried it and look at where that had lead me to.