Taylor's POV
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Ross George Peterson, my best friend, we had dabbled in love but remained friends through our joint appreciation of books. Is still not engaged, He must be the most beautiful man to ever be single this long. However respectfully I understand his need to be alone. Ultimately Rachel and I stopped asking him about women years ago, when he would return from New York with a plethora of gifts for us and our children and a new book for me to read. Not even a hint of a one night stand in his life, although being that he has blonde hair and an easy smile. A built physique and jaw bones that rival James Dean. Adding to this physical allure is that he is a top selling author. That he owns his own editing company and property in California, New York and London surely he's the ultimate package for any woman. His notions of love in his writing and poetry only make him the biggest romantic and I treasure our friendship which has stood the test of time and distance.
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"Ross" Emilia chants as he crosses the threshold of the farm house and I smile wiping my hair back and placing a large batch of olives on the kitchen island. He lets himself in with his key, resting a whole load of suitcases on the marble floor by the console table. A large bunch of tulips which he sets down in a vase as I assemble the pasta and make sure that my homemade sauce is well seasoned. Getting down to his knees and embracing my children in his arms as they laugh and giggle and Henry barrages him with questions as to what's in his suitcases.
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Pacing through to the hall once the hysteria has died down and the children are distracted by their first gift from their godparent Ross, I take in his large broad shoulders, wide smile and blonde well kept hair as he embraces me and informs me that the flowers are all mine. There's a moment where my heart tells me to look over his shoulder, out into the evening sun that beats down into my courtyard imagining a second car pulling up. Another visitor as my mind cruelly fantasises Matthew following him in, laughing and joking with Henry and marvelling at Emilia before he hugs me.
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My dreams are not well founded or routed in reality however as I remind myself that he has never really met Emilia, apart from the day she was born. The last night I ever looked upon his face, realisation dawning upon his angelic features as he gazed upon Jay holding a little baby. A glass of unfinished whisky in his hands which he placed down before wrapping his arms around me congratulating me on the birth of my little girl. Had I of known that it had been the last embrace we would share, had I of been aware that he would screen my calls and that I would never hear his voice again I would have committed him to my memory.
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The time after this ensued no contact, countless invitations ignored, christenings and birthday parties without him. Henry, my first born son, stopped asking after him. Kim, Matthew's sister, had assuaged Henry's tears on his second birthday when he realised that Matthew was not coming. Kimberly arrived in Italy without any warning, turning up at my door on Henry's second birthday her hair longer and wearing a white party dress. A huge gift behind her as I looked over her shoulder for Matthew, expecting him to appear out of thin air as she hugged me apologising.
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My mind had scrambled over horrific scenarios when I realised he was intent on never speaking to me again. Denying that he could put me through it I had assumed that something tragic had happened to him until Kimberly had informed me that he was alive and well and seeing some dumb blonde, her terminology not my own. Kim has taken his spot as godparent to Henry, for all intents and purposes. Attending every special occasion and treating me like a sister in law that she loves. Playing dollies with Emilia and Amelie, and making them their very own princess outfits. Kimberley is a fashion designer after all, a successful one at that.
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"Just me" Ross says reassuringly as his arms encircle me and his eyes follow my stare. I'm sure he curses under his breath as I stare out into the sun. But truthfully my pain is irrelevant, when I had hurt Matthew so awfully throughout our time together. Running off and marrying his best friend and expecting him to play along with my life and choices. His absence reminds me of my shortcomings every time, and I wipe my eyes looking back at Ross and his dignified blue eyes as he holds me in the hall.
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"Jay all good?" He asks me and there's no inflection behind his tone. Jay and Ross have become friends; for a man to give another guy a key to his farmhouse it's a statement of trust. Jay dropped his rivalry and Ross refuses to jeopardise the friendship we share.
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"Yeah he left this morning, you probably crossed each other in the sky at some point" I laugh as he follows me into the kitchen. A large oak door frame which he takes up with his built stature as his eyes sweep over the marble countertop and the olives, cheese and prosciutto I have placed there for him to eat before his dinner.
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"We most likely did" he laughs and we hear Emilia giggling and Henry showing her some kind of trick in the living area. Henry has become a natural showman, he enjoys showing off his skills. From playing his piano to his more recent fascination with magic tricks.
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"I'm glad you're here" I tell him looking up from the large metal pot with enough pasta in it for a dinner party. Lobster boiling in the other pot and homemade bread baking in the large gas oven.
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"Smells glorious" he comments smiling and opening up a beer before pouring me a glass of wine.
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"I wouldn't wanna be anywhere else in the world" he smiles simply as I look down at the food and realise that I instinctively cook more just in case of any unexpected visitors.
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"I hope you like lobster" I smile and he laughs sipping his beer. His pale blue shirt pressed and his Aston Martin keys on the side. I glance out at the grapevine, Christopher's sandy brown hair coming into view in the midst of the trailing vines of grapes.
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"I love your food. Taylor I've been eating noodles and pizza takeout" he giggles looking out of the arched windows, over the rolling hills as he takes in Rachel alongside Chris in a pink maternity dress. Often being that we live nearby one another, we've realised that there is one wildflower trail through the hills that leads from the farmhouse to their country home, and so we usually walk on foot too see each other daily.
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"Rachel's close huh to baby number two" he smiles and I nod. Rachel will be having a boy according to Henry, however none of us are so sure.
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"Yeah so I think she has around eight weeks left" I tell him as we watch their family of three approach us, heading around the pool and over the large veranda straight into the kitchen through the back door as I smile down at Rachel's two and a half year old little girl standing before me in a matching pink dress to her mothers.
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"Auntie Tay" Amelie giggles hugging my leg as I pick her up and offer her some olives and cheese which she devours. Ross watches me with eyes full of love before I hand him Amelie and hug Rachel who has calmed down a whole load since being pregnant for the second time.
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"How's baby" I ask her and she smiles collapsing onto the large velvet sofa by the window. Warm air streaming through the open windows as she places her blonde hair up in a bun. Christopher kisses her forehead before shaking hands with Ross and speaking with him briefly. Watching Amelie bound off into my living area in search of Henry and Emilia.
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“Baby is fine, it’s blooming hot in Italy isn’t it” she gasps exasperated as I pace over to the cooking lobster.
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“Thought you may have gotten over the heat now” I laugh and she scoffs hands on the large bump.
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“Yes I thought so too, however pregnancy makes me warmer” she laughs and I smile remembering the discomfort of feeling hot during the second trimester with Emilia.
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Buttered lobster with cherry tomatoes goes down rather well, even if the children stick to a more simple mozarella and tomato pasta. And as the candlelight burns down and the moonlight begins to kick in I watch our children playing and notice their tired eyes before Christopher gathers up Amelie and she falls asleep in his arms. Her blonde hair all around her face as she sleeps heavily. The beauty of where we live is that walking around in the dark is not fraught with any problems. There’s little to no risk and so when Christopher carries his daughter and holds his wife’s hand all the way back through the grapevine I think nothing of it. Knowing that they are all safe in the Italian countryside.
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“I’m happy for her” Ross says watching Christopher’s back as he holds onto the most precious things in his world; Rachel and his baby girl.
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“Me too…” I say wiping down the sides as he finishes off his beer. Ross offers to settle down the children and I finish off the kitchen. Around twenty minutes later having stress cleaned, wondering about Matthew and his life in London, I pace into the lounge. The fire dying down, licks of flames dwindling as I take in Ross propped up on the large leather couch with my two children lying on him asleep. The book he had been reading them on his chest as he sleeps soundly. Placing it quietly on the oak coffee table I climb onto the large sofa and slip in next to him.
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“Taylor” he whispers and I smirk watching his eyes remain closed.
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“Shhh” I whisper pulling a large throw over us and eventually falling asleep next to him. Clutching onto my baby girl who manoeuvres herself to lying next to me, the scent of lemons in her hair and the soft snores of Henry as he holds onto Ross’ torso.
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