I don’t know who I am in the moment. Not brave, but perhaps courage is rising inside me because suddenly I’m tired of hiding. This man has sparked something deep in my soul, and although this also frightens me, I thirst for it.

I will call it hope.

“Angel,” he says, and I know he will deny me, so I lean up and press my lips to his.

They are salty, probably from the orzo and fish I brought him for dinner, the crusty bread, fresh butter.

At first, he does nothing. No movement, just stillness.

I might also be shocked for I’m not a woman who has shared many kisses. Delamico, when I was sixteen. And Santini kissed me a year ago, right before he was conscripted. I made him no promises, not even then.

And especially not now as suddenly, Fred gives way for me. His mouth softens and opens and I feel the taste of his tongue, tasting my kiss.

His strong hands find my hair and tangle them in my tresses and I slide my arms up to cradle his shoulders and push myself against him, holding on as he deepens his kiss. His arms cradle me even as he presses me back, onto the soft ground, the olive trees a canopy above us.

I have forgotten the Germans. Forgotten Tory, mother, father, the Janowitz family, even the terrible war within and beyond the vines. I am just here, now, holding on, surrendering, comforted, comforting.

Perhaps I do not know what love is, but in this moment, I feel that it must be that feeling of knowing you are safe. Knowing you have found someone who will see you, find you, accept you, protect you.

Knowing that, when he leaves, he will take everything of you with him.

And without him, you will be bereft.

“So?”

The voice ripped RJ out of the story, and she looked up, trying to gauge just how much heat pressed her face.

“Have you gotten to the good part yet?” Ziggy stood in the garden in a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt, her hair braided. Roy stood with her, smiling.

RJ closed the book. “I…um —“

“She has,” Ziggy said to Roy.

He raised his eyebrows.

RJ sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of his hammock. “You’ve read this?”

“Twice,” Roy said. He was healing, she could tell by the way he moved. Clearly the walks with Ziggy helped.

Now, he came over to the edge of the fountain, and sat on the basin. “What people will do for love —“

“Please. Spoilers!” RJ held up her hand. “What is it with you people? Please, keep things from me.”

Roy laughed. “If that’s the way you want it.”

“Well, not everything. I mean—tell me the truth about life, lie to me about the ending.”

“Why?”

“Have you not met me? I want the adventure of the read.”