Venetian Love Knots

Excerpt From: Venetian Love Knots

Allison held her plastic cup in a death grip as she absently rattled the ice cubes in it. She stared out of the bubble-shaped window on her flight to Rome. The vodka had done little to calm her nerves. Neither People, Cosmo, nor Vogue had been any help distracting her. Allison’s mind was determined to go back to the one man who had caused her more pain and heartache than she had ever known. The man whom she would soon see for the first time in four years.

She bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly. Allison remembered the day her best friend Marcia had told her that she was getting married in Venice the week of Valentine’s Day. Marcia had asked her to be her maid of honour and Allison had immediately jumped at the chance. She loved to travel, and she wanted to be there for Marcia.

Marcia had been dating Alfonso ever since Allison could remember. The pair had been together since they were kids in grammar school, when Alfonso and his parents moved to Texas from Italy. In fact, Alfonso had lived in the United States so long that no one thought of him as Italian, but the rest of his family was still in Italy.

Marcia had explained that it was a family tradition for them to be married in Venice around St Valentine’s Day. Alfonso was very close with his grandmother, who still lived there, and he wanted to carry on the family tradition for her. Marcia had met Alfonso’s Italian family, and had said that they were wonderful—very hospitable—and had been kind to her.

"His grandmother is so cute and little, but she’s a pistol, you know? Plus he has all these Italian cousins. They’re so handsome and polite. And they really know how to throw a party. I bet the whole time we were in Italy we didn’t sleep a wink! Somebody was always throwing a dinner party, or a lunch, or even a brunch for us. It was wild. And Venice…Oh, Allie, you are going to love Venice!" Marcia had gone on and on, telling her about the sights she’d seen and all of the art that Allison could see if she went. It had sounded like something Allison did not want to miss.

A couple of weeks later, Allison had just walked into her apartment when she’d got a call from Marcia. "Allie, honey, it’s me, Marsh. Are you sitting down? I need you to sit down."

Allison had set her groceries down on the floor and sat.

"Honey, Alfonso has gotten Cole to agree to be his best man," she’d said.

Marcia’s announcement had been met with complete silence.

"Allison? You still there?" Marcia had asked.

Cole. For years Allison had prayed for indifference towards Cole. She had hated him for years. What she felt for Cole was either unmitigated passion or hate. She didn’t know any in between. And what she had wound up craving was indifference. The last time she’d seen him, four years ago, what she had prayed for, what she had begged God for, was to feel indifference towards him. He had almost ruined her life.

"Yes, Marcia, I’m here." Her voice emotionless. Her purse strap had fallen off her shoulder as she’d slumped forward on the chair.

"Well, Allison, I know this is going to be uncomfortable for you, knowing how you’ve tried to put the whole Cole thing behind you, but hopefully you won’t have to see each other very much. I mean it is a large wedding party and all. Alfonso says Cole has a girlfriend. I mean she’s not coming or anything, but…well, what do you think? Will you still be my maid of honour?"

"Of course, it’s fine," Allison had lied, keeping her tone as even as she’d been able.

"I’m so sorry about this!" Marcia had prattled on and Allison had put on a brave face for her friend and pretended that everything would be fine.

Now that she was on her way to Italy, her fears rose to the surface.

It’s fine, she thought to herself sarcastically. That’s why I’m sitting here half-drunk and miserable, worrying about some guy from four years ago. She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times, fractious and annoyed with herself that even thinking about him could still shake her up so much.

Allison Fox had enjoyed being a popular girl for most of her twenty-six years. Her relationship with Cole Street was a source of shame for her, but it was also secretly how she identified herself. While she was ashamed of what she’d put up with for the relationship, who she was when she was with Cole was how she defined herself as a woman in many ways. That made her feel even worse about herself.