They returned home in the early afternoon, just in time for their mother not to suspect their lie.
Sofia immediately got to work: watering the vegetable patch and the garden, washing clothes, preparing dinner… working helped keep her mind occupied, but time was running out and the decision she had to make was no small one.
Could she see herself in a big, foreign city? Where everyone spoke a language different from her own; where it was cold and rained almost every day… would she ever be able to fit in, or would she be a fish out of water?
But above all: could she imagine herself at the side of a rock star?
David wasn't just any guy, she understood that well: he was famous, he traveled, he was always on the road exporting music to the world. Could a girl like her, born and raised in a remote countryside in southern Italy, ever cope with that hectic life?
But David was sweet, caring…she felt that with him she could face anything. And one thing was certain: she would never meet a man like David again.
Her train of thought was interrupted by Adele's arrival in the kitchen.
"I didn't want to ask you before because Carlo was with us, but how did it go last night?"
This time she wouldn't tell her sister anything. Partly to avoid worrying her, or perhaps to avoid being influenced in her decision: she would surely tell her to leave, without thinking twice. But she wasn't Adele; they were very different.
"What do you want me to tell you?" Sofia replied dryly, without looking up from the vegetables she was chopping.
"I don't know... did you kiss?"
Sofia answered the question with silence.
"Oh my God, you kissed... and how was it?"
"Like everyone else," she lied. She lied shamelessly.
"No, I don't believe it."
"I saw the way you looked at him today. You've never looked at anyone like that. You were even gone for a while."
"Yeah. To tell him it was a mistake on my part."
She saw the disappointment in her sister's eyes, who was surely expecting something completely different. A part of her wanted to reveal much more than that half-truth, down to the smallest detail, but she preferred to keep it all inside: that was a decision she should have made alone.
She didn't even notice a tear slipping down her cheek. It was Adele who pointed it out to her.
"No..." she replied, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "It's the onion. Come on, help me with those pots, please."
Adele nodded when her eyes fell on the chopping board her sister had been using a moment before: Sofia wasn't slicing any onions.
The sun had long since set over the amphitheater, and darkness had replaced the last rays of sunlight. That last day, they'd found themselves forced to play at night: they'd finally go to sleep after the last song. The last one, if Roger hadn't insisted on trying it again.
David had been silent for a while, completely lost in the music, letting that groove of bass and percussion transport him to another dimension. Anything to avoid thinking about the proposal he'd made to Sofia to follow him to London.
It was madness; he'd completely lost his mind. And she would have been crazier than him if she'd accepted; after all, they'd only known each other for four days. But very few women in his life had ever shaken him like that: in her simplicity, Sofia had reawakened emotions that had long been dormant, and he didn't want to let her go.
During the car ride home, Richard watched him. Nick and Roger were laughing at a joke Nick told that David hadn't even heard, as he was lost in his thought.
"You're quieter than usual.” Richard said.
David didn't reply, but continued to stare out the window.
“Is it about that girl, right? Because we're leaving tomorrow? Come on, don't worry. You'll forget her soon."
David broke his silence. "I asked her to come to London with me."
“You did what?" Richard couldn't believe his ears. "You know that'll never happen, right?! You said it yourself: she's not just another groupie."
"Yeah, but last night... it was different."
David thought back to the previous night, when they'd made love, how she'd clung to his shoulders several times, almost desperately, and how she'd repeatedly told him to make her his.
"If you say so," Richard didn't seem convinced and left him alone, sensing David didn't want to talk about it.
It was already late at night when they returned to the farmhouse, enveloped in total silence with all the lights off. He returned to his room hoping to find Sofia with her bags packed, but all he saw was an empty room shrouded in darkness.
That night, he wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.
Sofia leaped out of bed when she heard the tires of the car on the cobblestones, and approached the window, hiding behind the curtain, wrapped tightly in her nightgown.
She watched David as he got out of the car, a tired, worn expression on his face, and followed him with her gaze as he headed toward his bedroom. Her eyes then rested for a few seconds on the suitcase sitting next to her closet. She didn't even know how long she stared at it; it seemed interminable; she returned to bed, certain that whatever decision she made, someone would inevitably suffer.
The next morning, everyone was ready to leave.
Steve, the manager, was at the entrance paying the bill, congratulating Maria on the excellent welcome they had given him so last-minute, much to the woman's delight, who shook his hands in rapture.
Sofia went down the stairs and exited through the kitchen door, without being seen by her mother.
David was busy putting his bags in the car when he saw her, standing slightly aside, beckoning him to follow her into the back garden.
When he reached her and they were alone, he noticed with regret that she had no suitcase with her. He didn't even have to ask; just looking into her tearful eyes was enough to understand that she wouldn't be leaving with him.
"I can't. I'm sorry." She said.
David nodded, disappointed.
He had asked too much of her, he acknowledged, but a part of him had hoped until the very end.
"My life is here, I... I don't feel like it. Please, don't hate me." Sofia took refuge in his arms, and he welcomed her, gently stroking her hair and holding her tightly, as if he wanted to preserve that embrace, Sofia's scent, and the softness of her skin in his memory for as long as he could.
“Of course I don't hate you," he whispered in her ear, then took her chin between his fingers and planted a kiss on her lips.
Sofia returned the kiss, throwing her arms around his neck.
The car horn honked a couple of times; all that was missing was him and they would be gone.
"Don't forget me," Sofia told him, her face wracked with tears.
As soon as they broke free of that embrace, they shared a final, fleeting kiss. After that David walked away, looking her sadly in the eyes, got into the car which drove off while she, from a distance, saw it move further and further away, becoming blurry and then disappearing from her life forever.
