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Even after insistent urging, including bribes of foot and back massages whenever her heart desired, Rebecca refused to move into Richie’s home. Still, they spent the weekend together. Something told her—a warning almost—not to let this moment slip through her fingers, to allow herself one weekend at least, a carefree and, yes, a romantic time. A calm before the storm, perhaps. But for once, she listened to her heart.
She found every moment filled with joy, once they put aside fruitless discussions of Isabella’s accident or potential dangers to Rebecca. Of course, the topics were on both their minds, but she needed to simply enjoy the beauty of the world around her, and not dwell on its ugliness. And so did Richie.
On Sunday, they walked around Fisherman’s Wharf, and when Richie learn
