It Began In Italy | ✔️

Chapter Thirty One

"Get to the shore... I'm behind you!" Nico calls out when I'm once again met with the surface. Despite my muscles screaming to rest, I wade towards the shore. Although I only seem to be getting pushed back.

That's it. We're going to drown.

My mind is in full-blown panic mode and I'm not entirely sure I will remain, somewhat, calm for much longer.

The lights of Vernazza seem to blur as water splashes against my eyes and the crack of thunder sounds once more. Throwing myself under, I attempt to see if it's any easier to swim below the crashing waves. I seem to find some ease in blending myself into the waves although, it is still mighty difficult to break the surface when I inevitably need air. 

My mind is in a frenzy as survival mode kicks in and no matter how tired my legs are or how badly my lungs are aching for air, I push through. I drive towards the shore, towards salvation. 

The relief that washes over me when I finally reach the shore is uncanny. My body presses against the sand and I attempt to regain an ounce of composure. 

"Mi dispiace... Non c'era una barca in vista per miglia. Lei non c'era," Nico says as he helps me up. A look of distraught is cast over the old man's face, tears brimming in his eyes. The stick at his side wobbles as the man attempts to contain his distress. 

I am still awfully unaware of the situation, hoping that Nico will soon fill me in as to what the hell was worth risking his life for. 

"Mia figlia..." the man's voice breaks as he falls to his knees. Nico immediately moves to his side, saying things I couldn't understand to soothe the man. 

Nico turns to me, his eyes full of sympathy. "We'll take him back to the cabin, I'll explain everything once he is settled," Nico says and I nod my head, unable to understand the cause of this poor man's distress.

It was foolish for me to have followed Nico - realistically, what help would I have truly been if he hadn't been able to overcome the harshness of the sea? I could barely keep myself afloat, let alone his body weight on top of it. I shake my head, ridiculing myself for thinking I could be any source of help.

Stumbling to my feet, I watch as Nico helps the man stand and begins to lead him towards the cabin. I reach down to grab the man's walking stick, which lies abandoned in the sand, slick with salty water. 

The moon shines down on us as a small shiver rakes through me. Soft sobs fill the night sky and my heart breaks a little more for this frail man. I can only imagine he lost something at sea... someone during the storm.

When we reach the cabin, Nico and I are cold and drenched - the older fellow sniffling as he settles down on the sofa. "Thank you," he manages to say, although it seems to be the only English he can manage to muster up. I give him a smile, figuring he wouldn't be able to understand anything I could say.

Nico moves into the kitchen, placing the kettle on the stove. Soon the fresh smell of coffee fills the vicinity and Nico hands him a small mug. "Mi dispiace tanto," Nico says before looking down, his own sadness filling his eyes. "I've got a change of clothes for you in my room, grab whatever you want. I'll be in soon," he softly dismisses me and I nod before leaving them both.

Trailing into Nico's bedroom, I grab some clothes from the dresser before getting changed and draping my soaked ones over the radiator. I hear the soft murmurs from the living room and I try to keep my mind from thinking of the worst-case scenario. 

Pulling one of Nico's shirts over me, I breathe in the smell of his aftershave and move towards the bed. Today has been one hell of a day. Looking over at the clock, I notice it's almost hit midnight and I am beyond tired. But, I need to stay up to get filled in on the situation. I mean it can't be anything good but once again I'm utterly useless. Not speaking an ounce of Italian and visiting an Italian island don't seem to go hand in hand.

Dragging myself towards the bed, I grab one of the blankets and a pillow before walking back into the living room. The least I could do is make the man comfortable. Nico's sat next to him on the sofa as he sits with his head in his hands. 

Nico's eyes meet mine and they soften as he notices the blanket and pillow in my hands. 'Thank you', he mouths and I give him a small smile. His hand brushes mine as he takes the bits before handing them to the elder gentleman. 

"Grazie, grazie..." he repeats several times to Nico. 

"Faccia come se fosse a casa sua," Nico responds and he nods his head, thanking him multiple times. Nico stands from the sofa before trailing towards me, a mixture of fatigue and sadness in his eyes. His hand reaches for mine and I take it, gladly. 

I wait until we are in the comfort of the bedroom and the door is closed softly behind us before I attempt to ask any questions. But, where the hell do I start?

Nico begins rifling through the drawers for clothes and I sit on the edge of the bed, tucking my knees to my chest. "What in the world was worth you risking your life?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Nico halts for a moment before continuing. He grabs a hoodie and some joggers and changes before uttering another word. When he's finally dressed and ready to talk, he sits down beside me - his cold hand rests on my thigh.

"His daughter... she was out there, on a small rowing boat. I thought... I thought I could see something in the distance so I risked it. If it meant getting her back to her father, to safety. I swam and swam but there was nothing. Whether she floated too far, her raft was taken down by a wave or it was just a figment of my imagination... I don't know. All I know is that he's convinced his daughter has died at sea and there's nothing I can say or do," he huffs.

I place my hand over his and take a deep breath. The water was heinous, there was no chance of survival if you were dragged out so far. "That's awful..." I trail off, it truly was the worst case. 

"Let's just sleep... maybe he'd gotten confused and she wasn't there after all," he sighs before getting up and pulling back the sheets. "Come on," he says softly when I remain sitting on the edge of the bed. I'm lost in my own thoughts as I sink under the duvet and let the comfort of the sheets take me away from the chaos of the waves.