"You don't know how much I thank God for having met you." she whispered into his ear. With that silky fragile voice that he loved, while both of her hands played around with his hair, matting and squeezing it.

"Why is that?"

"You're different."

"Different how?"

She sighed. With that playful look exploring around the wood of the roof while she looked for the accurate expression. "I've met… several kinds of person in these years. A lot. And none of them I had liked."

"And what makes me different?"

"Oh, c'mon. You know you are not like all the people that I surround myself with. You really enjoy life…"

He didn't answer. Instead he swallowed, as if something got stuck into his throat.

"What?" she asked.

"How?"

"What were you going to say."

"Nothing."

"That's not true."

"Why do you think that?"

"I know you."

He contemplated those brown eyes pleasantly deep. "If I tell you, I want you to tell me something back."

"Okay." she whispered, while one of her hands traveled down his neck.

"I was going to ask you… that if you found me that way, if you really thought I know what enjoying life really is… Why did you leave?"

Her face got tense. He noticed it. But it wasn't tense as she is when she puts limits to her daughter or when she is forced to confront an awful situation. She feels guilty.

"And the other question… what is it?"

"Was that baby really mine?"

"What?" she asked, confused. She didn't expect this at all.

But he didn't answer. She didn't have a choice of running out.

This time, it was her the one who swallowed.

"I left because I was confused. I thought that I felt something for him… and I considered it enough good to pretend that I could handle a whole new life as someone I never was. We were not good in that time… We used to argue a lot. Most of all because of money... "

"I get it."

"And I will regret that decision my whole life. It became my life a nightmare... "

"And?"

"Do you suspect the pregnancy that I talked you about was somebody else's?"

"I have my doubts. You were already seeing him."

"It wasn't his, Dominick. It was yours and I'm sure of it."

He kept staring. "Please, talk. I don't like silences." She slowly lowered her head and cuddled it under his chin. "You don't believe me, right?"

"I don't know, Victoria. I don't know."

"Dom, it's over. It sounds awful, I know… but we have to get through this. It's a child and I know what it is to lose one."

"You talk as if it was easy."

"Of course it's not."

"Why… are you so sure the baby was mine?"

She sighed. It was pretty clear that she didn't want to keep talking about this, but he needed it. She truly owed him an explanation.

"Simply because of dates. The time that I was last with you and the time that I was with him just didn't fit with the time of pregnancy that I had."

"And how much was that?"

"5 weeks when I found out."

"Right." He said.

She noticed this something in his voice. She knew it perfectly and even so much years far away from him couldn't erase that from her senses.

"What is it?" She asked.

"What?"

"Something is bothering you."

"It's nothing."

She sighed. "It must be late. Why are we still in bed?"

"What is late for you?" He said with the calm that was so common in him. The calm that she adored.

"I don't know" she giggled. "What time is it?" without even turning around, she stretched her left arm behind her to find her watch. 10:15.

"So?" he asked.

"No. Absolutely not." she smiled , and opened her arms wide to press her body against him.