CHAPTER ELEVEN: TAKING HIM DOWN MEMORY LANE

NATALIE 

It is true what they say then, that the heart never forgets.

I might be in a new body, but one thing I realised the more I got closer to Rafael was the effect I still had on him.

I had taken my time to study his new habits ever since my return, and his life, in one word could be described as boring. Went straight home from work, that is after working to exhaustion in the office, rarely sleeps, barely ever went out, except it was work related and he seemed to have abandoned all the things that made him happy in the past.

The memory flooded in, as I rested my head on the headrest, fingers clasped together and placed on my knee—it felt just like yesterday, even though there was an entire two years and a transition from one body to the other that took death to actualise, I could still feel the memories of our time together. All the time we spent outdoors, going to art galleries, visiting restaurants, and literally going around the city and showcasing to any one who cared to listen that we were in love with each other. It was bliss, and as I sat side by side with him, a part of me craved for that bliss.

“Do you have a place in mind?” Rafael’s voice pulled me out of my long train of thoughts, startling me, and even worse, causing a stir in my insides.

I adjusted in my seat and cleared my throat.

“You know, most of these top business executives, people who matter in the business world, one thing you should know that brings them together other than golf, is art.” I spelt out the world effortlessly , my eyes glued to his face.

There was a shift in his countenance, but he was quick to mask it.

“I see,” he drawled. “Do you like art?” He asked me, adjusting in his seat now so he could turn fully to face me.

My red nails sank into the soft skin on my thighs as his piercing gaze caught me off guard.

“Tell me, Natalie De Luca…” his eyes were brutally glued to mine, as if searching them for some kind of truth that may be hidden somewhere underneath them. “Do you like art?”

A sigh escapes my lips.

“You see, Rafael…” I began, adjusting in my seat, my stance unwavering as I held his gaze. “There are a few things I admire, a few things that I use my free time to appreciate, and art is one of them.” I told him.

I watched as his brows cornered, confusion, doubt and something else danced in his eyes. I could almost feel the turmoil of emotions flooding into him at once. He wouldn’t have the time to process it, and by the time he would finally be able to figure it out, it would be too late.

The limousine came to a halt in front of Galleria Aurora, one of the most profound art galleries in Milan. Rafael and Alina visited this place a lot.

“Here we are.” I told him as we stepped out of the limousine, “The art gallery.”

I maintained oblivion to the effects of my calculative moves on Rafael as we walked into the art gallery side by side, blabbing about my favourite artists and how I had missed these places, how I had been busy working and had not had the time to appreciate art, while watching Rafael from the corner of my eyes.

He stopped in front of a painting, gazing, admiring it. I had walked ahead of him, but had immediately walked back to stand by his side.

“Ahh…La Sognatrice!” I exclaimed as I stopped to stand beside him.

“Huh?” He turned to me, his brows raised in shock.

“Oh…” I began, ignoring the shock on his face.

“This painting is called La Sognatrice, it is one of Riccardo Corsi’s paintings.” I told him, like he was not already aware of it. “Riccardo is one of my favourite artists, I can spend all day staring at his paintings.” A smile played on my face as I watched the painting on the wall, which had somehow attracted the attention of so many other people in the gallery.

The surprise on Rafael’s face increased with each statement I made, each gesture I displayed and with every piece of information I revealed that was peculiar to Alina.

The way his jaw twisted, he looked like he was trying to consider the possibility of the impossible.

I was not going to give him the chance to decipher the thought, I would let the thought linger by giving him even more things to think about.

“Come on, there are even more beautiful artworks to explore.” I told him, pulling his hand.

I had said those exact words to him a few years ago, in this same gallery.

We spent the next three hours in the gallery, after which I suggested to him that we ate out. “I mean, I know you have the best chefs back at your house who make the best foods, but once in a while, you should eat out.” 

And just as I thought, he agreed, without much hassle.

“Where are you suggesting?” He asked, turning to me, eyes burning with anticipating, as if waiting for the next surprise package.

“I know a place where we can get a private dining experience.”

Rafael’s head snapped in my direction.

“Come on, you have time. The day is still young, and we can’t waste all of this time going back home to your bed, when you can feel alive.” I told him.

“I agree.” He suddenly cut in.

“So, where are we going?” He asked.

I leaned back on the car seat, clearing my throat, then I spoke in a voice loud enough to be heard by the driver.

“Ristorante Gualtiero Marchesi.” 

It was one of the popular private restaurants in Milan, and most importantly, one of the restaurants Alina had suggested for Rafael many years ago, they had visited it a lot as a couple.

By the time I lifted my gaze, it was to meet Rafael’s eyes, wide with surprise as they studied me.

Or maybe Lorenzo was right, was I moving too fast?