Fidele had lingered in her thoughts for a long time afterward, and she could still almost feel his warm fingers wrapped around hers and see the moonlight reflected in his eyes. After all this time, she sometimes wondered what might have happened if she’d stayed.
She’d expected to feel nervous and apprehensive about seeing him again, but instead she felt calm, almost as if their reunion was supposed to happen.
Carla strolled along the promenade toward the diving center, and Fidele grinned as soon as he saw her. His black curls had been shorn and he now sported a beard. Carla had forgotten just how strong his nose was in profile, a high hook on the bridge, and his eyes were still the deepest chocolate brown. Fidele set down the scuba tank he was carrying and let out a whoop. He sped toward her, scooping her into his arms.
He smelled of the sea, a salty tang that brought back even more of her feelings for him, some of which put a flush in Carla’s cheeks.
They finally pulled apart and looked at each other.
“I didn’t think you were going to reply to me,” Carla remarked.
“One of my sons is supposed to look after the website inquiry form. He is seventeen, so his brain is not always alert.” Fidele laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I’m happy, too.”
“Hey,” a woman shouted and waved at Fidele from the beach. She held up her ring finger to him.
“Ten minutes,” he called in reply and fixed his attention back on Carla. “The lady dropped her wedding ring in the sea,” he explained. “Fortunately, we were practicing in the shallow water. I’m going to see if I can find it before the sun starts to set. Care to join me?”
Carla thought about squeezing into a wetsuit and shook her head. “I think I’ll pass.”
“The water is warm and refreshing.” He smiled persuasively. “You will only need your face mask, snorkel and fins.”
Carla tilted her head, a memory just in reach. “I remember there was an octopus who lived on a rocky shelf close to shore. I think you called it Knusa?”
Fidele beamed, delighted she’d remembered. “Yes. It is a Norwegian name meaning ‘to tear something to pieces.’ The little guy is still there.”
Carla frowned. “It can’t be. They only live for a few years.”
“He must have told his relatives about the place and they moved in. Good news travels fast.” Fidele laughed and he nodded toward the dive gear on the beach. “Tempted?”
Carla looked out to sea, and it looked so peaceful and inviting, the perfect remedy to wash away her worries about Tom, and she changed her mind. “I’ll see you back here in ten minutes,” she said.
“Good! I will tell the lady to wait for a little while.”
Carla returned to her room and changed quickly, wondering if Fidele would notice her body was curvier than it used to be. How could Tom not want this baby? she thought, glancing in the mirror. She put on her swimsuit and draped a scarf around her waist as a sarong. After placing her travel journal in her bag to show Fidele, she returned to the beach.
While she was selecting a face mask and snorkel in the diving center, a couple of women loitered on the promenade.
“I can’t believe I dropped my damn ring in the sea,” one of them groaned.
“Lucky for you that gorgeous instructor is going to look for it. He’s totally fit in that tight black wetsuit.”
“We’re looking for my ring, remember? Not the local wildlife.”
They both laughed.
Carla joined Fidele on the beach. They walked to the end of the jetty and slipped into the sea from the end. Fidele’s yellow fins disappeared below the surface, and Carla pushed her face under, treading water as she watched him.
Her face mask made everything look clear beneath the waves. Fish flitted all around her, their silver, gold, striped and orange bodies flashing in the rays of sun that cut into the water. Down deeper, she admired an eagle ray gliding over gnarled bands of coral and the spiral shell of an enormous conch.
Fidele’s movements were as languid as the morning tide that kissed the shore. He glided effortlessly throughout water, whereas Carla had never been a natural swimmer, her arms and legs clumsy and unable to find a pleasing rhythm. As a child, she’d once owned a windup toy shark that swam in circles in the bath, and she imagined she’d also move that way in a confined space.
All she could hear was the sound of her own breathing and her limbs moving through the water. Her thoughts about Tom, Logical Love and other men fell away, replaced with a feeling of tranquility.
Fidele connected his thumb and index finger to make an okay sign, and when Carla returned the gesture, it was like they’d both slipped back in time. It was easy to imagine that, after their time in the water, they’d return to his little room above the diving center to strip off their clothes and climb under the covers, their skin still damp and salty.
Carla watched as Fidele searched among the corals, skeptical he’d ever find the ring and feeling preemptive sympathy for the woman waiting on the beach. But she’d forgotten how well he knew the reef. After a while, Fidele attracted her attention and made a thumbs-up signal to indicate he was going to resurface, and she caught a glimpse of something shiny in his hand.
Carla raised her head above the water, and they bobbed on the waves together.
“I found it,” Fidele shouted to her.
“Really? Well done.” Her mood soared even more.
They swam back to the shore, where the woman hugged Fidele for a few seconds too long, followed by her friend, who did the same thing. They hung around while he peeled off his wetsuit. “Ladies, you are most welcome,” he said with a bow, throwing a towel around his neck. They scuttled away whispering to each other and giggling.
Fidele turned to Carla. “You can leave your mask, snorkel and fins here. My team will put all the equipment away. I think we’ve earned ourselves a drink before dinner.”
Dinner sounds lovely, Carla thought. After dealing with Tom’s disappointing reaction to her pregnancy news, she looked forward to sitting at a tiny table on the promenade, eating cheese pastries or fregola, a unique variety of Sardinian pasta, just like old times.
After they’d showered and got dressed again, Fidele took the top off a cooler and helped himself to a beer. Carla selected a bottle of lemonade and they walked barefoot across the road to sit down on the sand. It only took minutes for the sun to turn copper, sinking down toward the sea.
Carla took a swig of her drink and smiled at him. “Tell me more about your life. What have you been doing for the last twenty years?”
“Wow, has it really been so long?” Fidele shook his head. “I have been very lucky. I have a wife and four sons. Plus, three octopuses.” He laughed.
Wife? Carla froze with her bottle pressed to her lips. She’d managed to persuade herself he might be single and waiting for her, as per the man of Myrtle’s prediction. A wave of regret washed over her, both sweet and sour, and she drank more lemonade to disguise it. “A dad of seven, wow. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you,” she said, straining a smile and trying not to feel jealous.
“And you? Are you happy?” he asked.
“Oh...yes, of course.” Carla didn’t want to open up that can of worms. “I’m about to get married for the second time, the week after next. I don’t have any children—or sea creatures. How old are your boys?”
Fidele counted on his fingers. “They are nineteen, seventeen, twelve and ten. Like a football team,” he added, his eyes shining. “They are cooking dinner for us tonight. Please expect something simple, rather than a sophisticated meal.”
“It sounds wonderful.” She smiled a little ruefully, her dream of a romantic candlelit meal for two sliding away.
“They are going to call to us when it is ready.”
A delicious cooking aroma soon filled the air, and Fidele stood up when he heard someone shout his name. He offered his hand to help Carla to her feet, and they carried their empty bottles back across the road. The diving center was now closed for the day, and he opened a small gate, leading to a narrow passageway that she didn’t recall.
At the back of the building was a small courtyard, strung with fairy lights in the trees. A long table was set with a white tablecloth, plates and cutlery. The air was warm without a breeze and Carla could still hear the distant shush of the waves. “It’s beautiful,” she said, understanding clearly why Fidele had never wanted to leave, and why she’d been so tempted to stay.
“Thank you. It is my small paradise.” Fidele turned and waved to someone, a woman with a flock of graying curls who’d entered the yard. “Do you remember Eve?”
Carla glanced at the woman. Her arrival was unexpected, and Carla frowned, racking her brain. Eve?
As the woman drew closer, Carla recognized more of the woman’s features. And that was when it hit her. She’d once known a fellow traveler named Eve and had been friends with her throughout her time in Sardinia. There was a photograph of them both in her travel journal, holding a fish that they’d let slip back into the water, and she could now see they were one and the same person.
