[...] I would miss the time with Franco Mari my whole life. How lovely the months, the years with him had been. At the moment I hadn’t understood their importance, and now here I was, growing sad. The rain, the cold, the snow, the scents of spring along the Arno and on the flowering streets of the …
I was mistaken. Now I return to the moment when Stefano took us away from Ischia, and I know for certain that the moment the boat pulled out from the shore and Lila realized that she would no longer find Nino waiting for her on the beach in the morning, would no longer debate, talk, whisper with hi…
“What need is there to leave Stefano? You’re good at telling lies, you’ve told him so many, you can perfectly well continue.”
She looked at me with narrow eyes. She had clearly perceived the sarcasm, the bitterness, even the contempt that those words contained behind the appearance of friendly a…