His eyes widened. “I remember. I can only imagine how proud you must be.”

“It’s true.” Joy nodded. “Her photos will be in a book and calendar soon. The contest—that’s why I’m here. She graciously asked me to come along to Rome. We had such a magical time even though . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Alessandro waited.

“Even though we both had broken hearts.” Joy shrugged. “But sometimes you need to overcome and try something new in order to heal a broken heart. Right?”

“Assolutamente.” He raised a finger. “Like that broken seed that must die in order for the flower to bloom.”

“Yes.” Joy straightened. “Exactly. The broken seed.”

“Did Rome help your heart heal?”

“Oh, yes, it did,” she said without hesitation, picturing the amazing sights of the Colosseum, the ruins, the Spanish steps, and the many fountains. “Jaime met Michael there and fell in love. She forgot Carl, and her heart healed. Carl was the one who left her at the altar on her wedding day. Now she and Michael are planning their wedding.”

“Congratulazioni!” He clapped his hands. “Finding the love of your life is worth celebrating.”

“I agree.” Thinking of Michael and Jaime brought tears of happiness to Joy. “I hope that one day I…” Her eyes found his.

“You will.” He leaned in and pecked her cheek. “One day, you will celebrate.”

“Come, let us walk.” He took Joy’s elbow and helped her stand.

The two left the garden and strolled on the gravel path along the rows and rows of flowers.

“I never in a million years thought I’d be here in Caorle taking a stroll in a garden on a cool evening at this time in my life.” She chuckled. “If you had asked me when I was thirty if this would be in my future, I would have laughed at you.”

“Life takes many unusual turns.”

“It sure does.” Joy walked with her hands behind her back, thinking about who she was when she was younger.

“Joy, you said both you and Jaime had broken hearts . . .” Alessandro gestured as if wanting her to elaborate.

“I know. I did say that, and it’s true. But my heart has healed as well.” She waved her arm toward the rows of flowers. “This view . . . it helps me heal. I just might be able to stay in Italy forever.”

“What happened to your heart, Joy?”

She lowered her eyes. “It was broken . . . by love.” Joy spied a few seagulls in the air headed toward the sea. “That’s why I’m here in Italy for adventure and not romance.”

“Ah. I see. You had said that before.”

“I mean it. And that’s all right.” She turned to him. “Isn’t it? I mean, one can travel through Italy without looking for love and romance, right? I think so. Some might say I’m fooling myself, but I don’t think I am. I’m finding myself. I’m figuring out what it is that I want to do with the rest of my life. I may have a couple of decades left. You never know.” She chuckled.

Alessandro remained silent as if contemplating what she said as he walked next to her.

“Perhaps I’m just being realistic, though some might call it cynical.” Joy kicked a few stones out of her way as she walked. “I don’t want to be cynical.”

Was she being realistic?

Or was she being stubborn?

“I think you are being cautious, Joy, and that’s all right.” Alessandro smiled. “I can understand why. A broken heart is very hard to heal.”

“Exactly.” She turned and faced the sunset. “Very hard to heal.”

Realizing they had so much in common made her relax in his presence, but she also knew she’d better get back to the hotel.

They strolled by the vegetable garden on the way back to the house. Joy pick a bunch of basil and inhaled its sweet aroma as she walked. “I find I can truly relax here in Italy.”

“The way of life here is slower, more at ease, yes?”

“Yes. I think I could get used to it.” Joy winked.

“I’m so glad.”

“Well, this has been a delight, Alex. I thank you.” She playfully bowed.

“It has been a pleasure. Come. I will ask Charlie to take all of us back to Venice and the Piazza di San Marco.”

“Sounds good.” As she turned to head back to the farmhouse, where music and laughter echoed in the air, Joy felt a tinge of sadness hit her chest like an arrow at the thought of leaving. “I have really enjoyed my time here. I’m glad I accepted your invitation. Alex.”

“I am glad as well.” He gently led her along the gravel path by her arm.

I wish it didn’t have to end. Joy sighed with disappointment. Especially at the beginning.

Later that evening, back in Venice, Alessandro escorted Joy to her hotel. The two paused at the entrance.

“Well . . .” Joy hesitated, fumbling with her room key card. “Thank you for a delightful day today, Alex. I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it was to meet your family and friends and see your lovely home, the farm, the food . . .” She gestured. “I could go on all night.”

He placed a hand over his heart. “It was my pleasure, Joy. And I thank you for caring.” Then he reached for her hand and gently kissed it. “The way you were concerned for Dina and Vito, my dear friends, warms my heart.”

“I was happy to help them at such a difficult time.” Joy smiled.

“And your kindness toward my children . . .” He shook his head. “Mille grazie di tutto.”

Joy slowly released his hand, staring deeply into his eyes.

“Buona sera.” Alessandro turned and walked away.

She watched him for a moment, reflecting on their time in the garden together. “Wait.”

He turned around. “Yes?”

Joy reached out and hugged him, feeling his hands rest on her back.

When they parted, she stared at his lips, so close to hers. “Molte grazie.”