With the subtle sweetness of ripening grapes and the scent of crushed thyme, the evening air lingered softly over the vineyard. The line separating land and sea became more blurry as twilight spread across the sky like spilled ink. Halfway up the hill, on their little stone terrace, they received the last rays of golden light before the sun set completely behind the Tuscan hills.
As they swayed in the wind, a string of glowing bulbs illuminated the sky. Slowly moving shadows were cast over empty plates and half-finished glasses of wine as candlelight flashed between them on the table. Handmade pasta, garden tomatoes, and laughing were all ingredients in the supper they had prepared together, and their connection was palpable.
Little had Regan eaten from his plate.
Walking barefoot and w
