Feel his forehead,” Floriana says as we prepare to disembark.

I rest my palm on Aiden’s tiny forehead and gasp. “He’s warm.”

Gianfranco places his hand on Aiden’s head. “You are right. We should take him to the hospital?”

“No, I don’t think we’re there yet. I would like to take him home so he can sleep in his own bed tonight though.”

Gianfranco ruffles his eyebrows as though he’d rather not have us away from him tonight. “But of course, I understand.”

When we get back to my place, Gianfranco gives Aiden a hug. “Get well. We will have more time at the castle for you then. And more travels too.” He looks at me.

I’m filled with overwhelming joy, having had the vacation of a lifetime.

“The time I have had with you has been wonderful,” he says while wrapping his arm around the small of my back. “Just because we are done here today does not mean we are done. I was serious when I talked about going back to Paris.”

I swallow, smiling. “I’d like that too. Very much.”

He pulls me to him and kisses me. I’m amazed that after two months of travel, and our countless kisses, he still makes me swoon. I take a deep breath and pull away. I have to take another second to make sure I have my balance.

“I will see you soon. Take care of him.” He points at Aiden. “He is my beach friend.”

I get Aiden down and take his temperature. He is fast asleep, and his temperature is about one and a half degrees high.

“Not so bad,” I say, looking at him.

I stay with him until he’s out, then I go to my room, shower, and get to bed. I’m exhausted, but it’s sort of strange sleeping without Gianfranco. I’m so used to his body against mine. I miss laughing at a funny story he must tell before we close our eyes. Those days we spent together couldn’t get any better. When I lose consciousness, I’m pretty sure I’m still smiling.

I wake with a start and look toward my nightstand. My phone is ringing. I pick it up and look at the time. It’s six in the morning, and Nolan’s calling.

“Hello,” I say, sounding tired.

“Liza. John has been convicted of first-degree murder.”

My shoulders collapse as if the wind has been sucked from my sails. “He was?”

I scamper around, looking for something but I have no idea what. “Okay. Then I have to come home. Now.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. I’m leaving this morning.”

“Liza, he’s your ex-husband.”

“But he killed our father!” I calm myself. “Listen, don’t argue with me about this, please. I want you to pick me up at the airport. I’ll send you my flight information. See you soon. Okay?”

Nolan is silent for a while before he sighs. “Okay.”

He hangs up. I sit on the edge of the bed, wanting to scream at the top of my lungs, but I don’t want to wake Aiden. I cannot believe my ears.

I can’t believe Nolan wants me to stay in Italy after this. No way. I must see John. I’ve been avoiding him for too long.

I sigh, feeling as if a truckload of bricks has fallen on top of me. I activate the screen of my phone, search the contact list, and call Pete Johnson, our family lawyer. I ask him if he knows how to get me into the jail or prison to visit John.

“It will be easy for you,” he says. “John’s been trying to get in contact with you since the arrest, but he doesn’t have your number in Italy. So his lawyer contacted me to say that you are on his visitation list. Apparently John’s been hoping you’d want to come see him. But why would you?”

I cradle my face in my hand. “Because, Pete. I just have to.”

Pete’s silent for a long moment. “Okay, then. When are you returning?”

“I want to leave today.”

“Well… it’s Monday. The prison hosts visitors on Monday through Wednesday, and then Saturday.”

I thank him for being open with me about this, and we end the call.

I suspect Aiden has an ear infection, so I call Dr. Russo before I pack. He’s a great pediatrician who always answers his phone no matter what time I call. I tell him Aiden’s symptoms and explain that I have to leave the country immediately. He confirms that it sounds as if Aiden has an ear infection and warns me against putting him on an airplane. We make an appointment for later today—Floriana will take him.

So I call Elsa.

“Floriana and Aiden have to come and stay with you,” I say.

“Sure, that sounds fine. But what is the matter? Something sounds wrong.”

“I just spoke with Nolan. John has been convicted of killing my father.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry.”

I take a long pause, trying everything I can to hold back my tears. “I am too.”

Elsa agrees to take me to the airport, and I hang up before I break down.

I book a ticket. My flight leaves today at ten a.m. It’s almost eight in the morning, and Floriana has arrived. I explain to her what’s going on, and she gets Aiden ready as I rush over to Gianfranco’s place. I’d rather tell him in person what happened.

By the time I get to his house, it’s after eight. Luther answers and tells me Gianfranco has left for a meeting in the city, so I ask if I can go upstairs. I want to leave a sexy note on his bed. I want him to crave me while I’m gone.

“Why, certainly, madam,” Luther says. He’s become more inviting than he was the day I first met him.

I rush upstairs to Gianfranco’s room. As soon as I walk through the door, I see a naked woman lying on the bed. My heart drops to the other side of the earth. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” she asks as if she’s the grand dame.

“I asked first.”

She twists her naked hips and pokes out her perfect tits. “I’m Gianfranco’s wife.”

I feel as if a thousand volts of lightning have struck me. “His wife?”

“Yes, his wife,” she snaps. “And I asked you, who are you?”

She’s demanding and snobby—what a bitch. I look at the floor and picture my heart lying there, shattered into tiny pieces. I can’t breathe. That’s probably because I’m running. I don’t stop running until I get into my car and drive off.

Next I do the most dangerous thing and call Elsa to tell her what happened. She’s incensed and urges me to get over to her house and make sure Floriana drives. She doesn’t want me driving in this condition.

I hang up and try to control my car. I make it home with a heart that’s so broken that I don’t think I’ll ever recover.