Chapter 17: A Vineyard Dream

One year later.

The hills of Tuscany rolled like waves, golden and green under the early spring sun. Olive trees whispered in the breeze. Grapevines stretched in neat rows across the valley.

And nestled between two dusty roads, a villa stood with sun-washed bricks and a hand-painted sign:

“Terra e Vino — Cucina. Amore. Famiglia.”

(Earth and Wine — Kitchen. Love. Family.)

Amara stood in the open courtyard, her hands dusted with flour, a baby on her hip — Giulia Belle DiLorenzo, now six months old and already grabbing for bread crusts.

“You know,” she said to Luca, “most people just go on vacation. You buy property.”

Luca chuckled, flipping a slab of porchetta on the outdoor grill. “I promised you Tuscany. And I promised I’d bribe my cousin with gelato to run it.”

She smiled, watching Noah chase Sophia through the olive trees.

The dream had taken time.

They rented out the Bellwood restaurant for a few months to a trusted sous-chef. The school ran shorter seasons, with Rosie overseeing it.

And then they came to Italy. For real. For a season of sun, slowness, and something new.

The Vineyard Plan

The plan was simple:

A summer cooking retreat for families.

Five days. Eight guests per group.

Wine, food, laughter. No pressure. No perfection.

Just the joy of being together.

It was a hit.

The first retreat sold out in two hours. By the second session, a travel magazine sent a photographer. By the third, Luca was invited to speak on a food-and-family panel in Florence.

But with success came whispers.

Whispers Luca tried to ignore.

Until he couldn’t.

The Email

One afternoon, Amara walked into the villa kitchen and found Luca staring at his phone, face tight.

“What is it?”

He hesitated. Then handed her the screen.

From: Claudia Fontane, Executive Chef, Le Cirque

Subject: An Offer You Shouldn’t Refuse

Luca —

Our Paris location is seeking a new executive chef. The board voted to extend an offer.

You’d have full creative control.

Six-figure salary.

International recognition.

Prestige.

And honestly? You deserve it.

Think about it.

Amara felt the breath catch in her chest.

“Paris?” she asked.

He nodded slowly. “I haven’t replied.”

“Do you want to?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he stepped outside, stood under the wide Tuscan sky, and stared at the vineyard — the retreat guests laughing in the distance, the smell of lemon and thyme drifting on the breeze.

Amara joined him. “You told me once that perfection is boring. That messy food tells better stories.”

He looked at her, conflicted. “This is what I always thought I wanted.”

“And now?”

He looked toward their children. “Now I want them.”

She touched his face. “So… say no. And if one day you wake up and want to say yes, we figure it out together. But don’t say yes to your old life if your new one still makes your heart beat.”

He leaned in, rested his forehead against hers.

Then whispered: “I choose this.”

A Letter in Return

Luca sent back a handwritten note.

Claudia —Thank you.

But I’ve found my kitchen.

It’s filled with sticky fingers and imperfect pasta.

It runs on love, not ego.

I have nothing to prove.

Only meals to share.

One Night Under the Stars

They sat around the courtyard table — family, retreat guests, laughter echoing.

Sophia twirled pasta with impressive skill.

Noah taught a seven-year-old how to crack an egg without getting shell in the bowl.

Baby Giulia cooed in Amara’s lap.

Luca poured her a small glass of wine.

“To the vineyard,” he said.

She raised her glass. “To never going back to what didn’t serve us.”

“And to always choosing each other.”

They clinked glasses, and in the soft rustle of the olive trees, beneath the moon’s quiet glow, Amara whispered:

“This is what forever tastes like.”