Chapter 43

When Ignazio took me out to dinner in the evening, we tried to maintain normal conversation, but it was very difficult. Some moments we were speaking as if everything was normal, but our fluctuating moods made normality difficult to uphold, with our excited smiles and my trembling, and then our spells of blinking back tears as we gazed at each other for the last evening.

In the cab on the way back to the hotel, I pressed my forehead against the freezing window and peered out at the dead trees and grass quivering in the bitter wind under a coating of ice, and then up at the stars, winking in the dark sky and glowing brilliantly.

Ignazio laid a hand gently on my back, and I turned away from the window and laid my head on his shoulder, feeling his arm move around me and hold me tightly.

As I took a warm shower in my suite, I thought of all the places I would be in only a few days. I imagined running through Africa, and I could almost feel the dirt under my high-tops, smell the baking grass and feel the bark of those funny little off-balance African trees. Before my eyes I saw brilliant orange sunsets and blue skies, with the sun and moon completely visible above the plain, all the colors dancing with nothing to obstruct them.

My heart raced as quick as the images, and as I ran my hands over my dripping face I felt them trembling with excitement. I was going to be working for National Geographic. After all this time, all these years of work, I was finally going to have nothing else to do but romp through the earth capturing its beauty, and the realization filled me with brilliant exhilaration.

My laugh interrupted the rushing sound of the water, and my mouth was immediately filled with it so that my laugh turned gurgly and funny. I spit out the water and laughed again, turning my face up gleefully to the stream.

After I had scurried out of the shower and danced into the living room, I swept up my camera in my arms and fell onto the couch, laughing and hugging it to my chest.

Then I heard a knock on the door and I leaped up and raced to it, throwing it open and beaming at Ignazio.

"Tamzin!" he cried happily, and came into the room and shut the door behind him. "It's so good to hear you laughing!"

"I'm so excited!" I exclaimed.

"Good! Good! I just came to tell you goodnight."

"Oh. Okay."

I moved closer to him and hugged him tightly. His arms went immediately around my back, and we fell silent, holding each other. I buried my face in his neck and felt the rise and fall of his chest, and my heart rate slowly returned to normal. My glee was replaced with a deep longing and anguish, and the hug became me clinging to him.

"I love you," I whispered after a moment.

"I love you too," he responded.

I turned my face up to his, and he kissed me tenderly and lingeringly. I gazed up at him, feeling the sorrow in my chest, and I felt like crying.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked softly, and I nodded. He moved his hand gently around my waist, and then held out his other hand. I took it and laid my head on his shoulder, and we started to sway back and forth, turning slowly in the circle that would too soon be broken.

I closed my eyes when he began to sing, silently listening to him as he held me close.

"Questo amore splendido…Questo immenso senso di felicita…Lo devo solo a te…"

Slowly, we swayed back and forth in the warm hotel room, both in T-shirts and pajama bottoms, sorrow filling our hearts at what was to come and clinging onto every last moment we had together. But at last, the song had to end, and Ignazio sang the last few words, "Lo devo solo a te…"

Then the room fell silent, and we stopped dancing. We stood in the middle of the room, listening to the resounding silence, not wanting to let go of each other and submit to its oblivion. Finally, Ignazio released me and pulled back, and I looked up at him and saw him crying, and I realized I was crying too.

He leaned forward and kissed me, and then kissed me again and again.

"Goodnight, my dear," he whispered, pulling back and leaning his head against mine.

"Goodnight, Ignazio."

He stepped away and walked slowly backward to the door, watching me. He reached behind him and opened it slowly, not breaking the spell of the quiet, and then he left the room and was gone.

I stayed standing there for a moment, the silence loud and piercing around me. I felt completely alone. I sank to my knees, stunned and silent in the observing noiselessness. I sat back slowly, staring at the door where I had last seen Ignazio. Then my quick shudder of a breath broke the quiet, and as the quick, tearful breaths commenced, I pulled my knees to my chest and drew into myself, hiding from the cruel, lonely atmosphere.

My head was buried in my arms, and I cried as I felt the depressing solitude of his absence, the first taste of an ache that would pursue for such a long time afterward. There was so much to gain, so much good to obtain by starting out on this journey, but there was also so much to be lost. Never had my emotions been so conflicted-one moment my heart was racing with excitement and the next thudding along, weighed down by the pressing sadness of losing Ignazio.

My wrists and the knees of my pajama pants were getting soggy with tears, and I kept sniffling and trying to smother that desperate sobbing sound I didn't want to hear. My breathing was quick and ragged as I imagined so many days without him stretching before me, the pain of leaving behind something to start something new.

I stayed there drawn into myself in the middle of the floor for several long minutes, until I was finally able to drag myself into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. As I went about brushing my teeth and hair, I continued gasping as a little child does when there are no more tears to cry.

I was drained and exhausted, so I turned out all the lights and crawled under the covers of the unfamiliar hotel bed, expecting to fall asleep quickly. But as soon as I was lying there in the quiet, with my continued breathing spasms the only audible sign of life, I knew I wasn't going to fall asleep there. I pushed back the covers and sat up, staring sorrowfully into the darkness, and I pressed my fists into my eyes as a wave of loneliness overcame me.

In one quick motion I suddenly threw off the covers and leapt from the bed, stumbling and scrambling through the blackness of the rooms until I fell against the door and caught the cold handle. I flung it open and snatched up my red high-tops in the bright glow of the hallway, then dashed down the hallway to the neighboring suite. I paused, and then quietly took the handle and opened it, stepping into the wonderful warm glow of the room's lamplight. I shut the door behind me and blissfully took in the sights of the leather jacket draped over a chair, the open suitcase in the corner, the tennis shoes beside the door and the headphones on the counter. He was not in the room, and I immediately sprinted to the bedroom in a sudden frenzy and pushed open the door, almost falling onto the floor in relief when I took in the sight of him.

He was sitting up on the bed, atop the covers, and he had been staring at his open, empty hands in his lap, but at my entrance he looked up, startled, and then thrust his arms out to me.

"Oh, my dear!"

"Ignazio!" I cried, and ran forward, climbing onto the bed and falling into his arms. He turned me sideways on his lap and wrapped his arms around me, holding my head against his shoulder.

"I know," he murmured sadly when my quick, sorrowful breathing could be heard. He cuddled me to him and kissed my neck. "I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered, and clung to him and felt him holding me for the last time. Nothing could have pulled me out of that embrace, and so I stayed there in his warm, loving arms, being held and kissed and cuddled as the night progressed.

The bedroom door was open, but I liked the warm glow of the lamplight outside the room, letting me see Ignazio's face. I peered up at him and gazed at the dark silky hair, the deep brown eyes, the thick eyebrows and tender expression. Neither of us spoke anymore, but just felt each other's embrace.

I was exhausted from crying, and his arms were warm and safe and comfortable. I closed my eyes and rested my hand against the soft fabric of his T-shirt, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest under my hand. He leaned his head against mine and was completely still, his hands strong and safe around me.

When I was comfortably dozing, he slowly stirred, and I kept my eyes closed as I felt him gently move backwards with me in his arms, tilting me more against him so he could keep me steady. After a moment I heard the soft sound of the comforter moving, and then he turned and gently laid me on my side, moving slowly so he wouldn't disturb me too much. His hands left me and I opened my eyes, but closed them when he leaned over me and softly kissed my cheek. He lay beside me and pulled the comforter over both of us, and then I felt him move close to me and his arm go around my waist, drawing himself closer to me. With Ignazio relaxed against my back, his arm resting protectively over me, I closed my eyes again and quickly fell asleep next to him, reveling in his presence.

When I awoke in the morning, Ignazio was gone. As soon as I noticed his absence I was up and scrambling out of the room, throwing open the bedroom door that had since been closed. I stopped, smiling as relief flooded through me when I saw him in the kitchen.

"Good morning, my dear," he said, turning and smiling wide at me, making his dimples appear.

We spent the morning gulping down our last few hours together, not speaking of the looming separation. We danced together in the hotel room and he sang to me, and we talked about Piero and Gianluca and laughed about the great times we spent together on our travels.

I was so excited to leave for Africa in only a few days, but as Ignazio stood before me I was aware of the narrowing time frame and the underlying panicky feeling that accompanies knowing you're about to lose something precious but can't do anything to stop it.

Too soon, it was time for him to pack. He knelt on the floor folding clothes and carefully putting them into the suitcase. As he packed, I went around the room collecting some of his things and bringing them to him, slowly and reflectively, feeling his CDs, his headphones, his jacket in my hands. As he put the final belongings in I knelt in front of him and studied him, quietly watching him put the things in the suitcase. Then he looked up at me, smiling sadly, and I watched as he slowly closed and zipped it. He pulled on his jacket and knelt there, looking at me, and I gazed back. He checked his watch.

"It's time to go," he whispered, as if afraid to speak the desolate words too loudly, and I nodded. We got to our feet, and he pulled the suitcase out into the hallway, stopping at the door to turn off the light. We stopped at my room so I could get on my coat and scarf, and then we went down to the lobby to check out and then into the freezing air. Ignazio got a taxi, and as we approached the airport, I turned my head to him and gazed at him.

"Ignazio?" He was already looking at me, sadly, the cheerful candor gone from his eyes. "I'm scared."

He reached out and wrapped an arm around me, drawing me close to him and hugging me.

"You just hang on. It'll be alright."

I nodded, and he kissed me gently.

The minutes raced by, confused and scurrying away from the chaos of the D.C. airport. Too quickly were we standing there with the announcer calling that Ignazio's flight was about to board. We stood there staring despondently at each other, my heart sinking as I anticipated the moment when he'd be out of my sight forever.

"I love you," he choked out, and then I stepped forward and was enveloped in his arms.

"I love you too."

"I'll miss you so much. But be a brave girl for me, alright?"

"I will. You just wait. I'll be brilliant!" I looked up at him, my lip trembling. "This is so hard, Ignazio… But thank you for doing this."

"I'm so proud of you. Follow your dreams, Tamzin."

"I will."

He cupped my face in his hand and pressed his lips tenderly to mine, giving me one last kiss.

When he pulled back, a tear streamed down my cheek, and as he gently wiped it with his thumb he looked as if his heart was already broken.

"Well, my dear…" he said, his voice desolate, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Ignazio."

His hand left my face and he took a few steps back. I had the powerful urge to run forward and grab onto him and keep him with me, but I stayed. He turned, still watching me over his shoulder as he began to walk forward. Then, as he moved farther and farther away and people began to move between us, he blew me one last kiss and turned away. I watched his figure shrinking as he walked away, the pain in my chest heightening and the sorrow growing unbearable. But I couldn't flee from the loneliness into his arms anymore. He was gone. There was no one to catch my tears now, and people walked around me obliviously as they spilled over my cheeks.

I entered into my own hotel suite and shut the door behind me. I just stood there silently for a moment, looking at the seeming emptiness of the room. All my things were there, strewn around the room in my careless fashion, but they were still and lonely and quiet.

Pretending not to notice the tightness in my chest and determined not to cry, I pulled off my coat and went into the bedroom, throwing it onto the bed. I was about to go back to the living room, but then I stopped, a white envelope on the lamp table catching my eye. I ran across the room to it and swiped it off the table, seeing my name written on it in Ignazio's handwriting.

I tore it open desperately and pulled out the folded piece of notebook paper.

"My dear Tamzin,

I hope you know that this is the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. The idea of going back to our little group and having you missing from it is heartbreaking. I keep trying to soothe myself with the reminder that once I was happy without you, but it doesn't help because now I know. I know all about you; your ambition, your excited laughter, the way you carry out projects with such conviction, and the way you can be both sweet and manipulative to people trying to stand in Il Volo's way! And I know that I love you. And I know how good we are together. But just like I can't deal with the thought of not having known you, neither can you deal with not knowing what it would be like to live your dream. As much as I want you to be with me, I can't keep you here with you not knowing. It's your turn to fly, and I know for certain that you will. I look forward to seeing your work, and I hope you have more fun than you ever did before. Do you know the phrase "If you love something, let it go?" I'm clinging to that phrase now.

I'll love you forever. Please be safe,

Ignazio Boschetto."

Now I cried.