365 jours, tome 1

- Tu as une tâche difficile devant toi, Laura. Être la femme d'un tel homme peut représenter un vrai défi. Je sais de quoi s'occupent ton homme et le mien, c'est pour ça que je te dis moins tu en sais, mieux c'est.

L'homme en noir me suit en me parlant, mais ses mots n'ont aucune chance de pénétrer mon cerveau noyé par l'alcool. Je ne connais pas le bateau, je descends un escalier en voulant lui échapper et...
C'est la dernière chose dont je me souviens.

Je peux changer quand je suis avec toi, mais je ne changerai pour personne d’autre

Car si tu es réellement pour moi un ange, je veux te traiter avec autant de respect que ma propre vie.

Je t'aime. Je ne peux pas faire autrement. Je t'aimais même avant que tu apparaisses réellement. Je rêvais de toi, j'avais des visions de toi, je savais comment tu serais. Tout ça s'est confirmé quand je t'ai rencontrée.

Un geste brutal est, pour lui, aussi simple que de serrer la main d'un ami. Il n'a vraisemblablement jamais compté pour quiconque, il n'a pas à faire attention ni à prendre soin des sentiments d'autrui. Maintenant, il essaie de me faire partager ses sentiments, et la seule façon qu'il connaisse, c'est la force.

Je t'aime Massimo. (...) J'ai essayé de refouler ce sentiment car tu m'as enlevée, tu m'as retenue prisonnière, tu m'as fait du chantage... mais quand tu m'as laissée partir, je ne pensais qu'à une seule chose, te revenir.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re following me?” I asked, crossing my arms.
He raised his right hand and slowly took my glasses off to see my eyes. It felt like he was taking away my shield. Suddenly I was out in the open. “It’s not a feeling,” he said, looking me straight in the eyes.
“It’s not coincidence, either. Happy twenty-ninth birthday, Laura. May the coming year be the best in your life,” he whispered, and placed a delicate kiss on my cheek.

“Holy shit!” Martin exclaimed suddenly, jumping to his feet. “Do you know what time it is? It’s past midnight, so, Laura… ‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…’ ” he sang. Michał and Karolina stood, too, and joined in the merry, loud, and raucous rendition of the birthday song. The other guests were looking at us, intrigued, and then joined as well, singing in Italian. The restaurant reverberated with loud applause, and all I wanted to do was vanish. I hated that stupid tune. I don’t think anybody really like it. Nobody really knows how to behave as everyone is singing it—sing along, clap their hands, smile like an idiot? All options seemed bad, and you are just left the center of attention, looking out of place. With a fake smile plastered to my face, I rose and waved at everyone, bowing and thanking them for their wishes.
“You just had to do this to me, didn’t you?” I growled at Martin, the smile still stretching my lips. “Reminding me of my age isn’t too polite. Besides, did you have to involve everyone?”
“Well, babe, it seems the truth is a hard pill to swallow. But, by way of apology, I’ve ordered your favorite drink.”
The waiter appeared with four tall glasses and a bottle of Moët & Chandon Rosé in a bucket filled with ice.
“Oh, I love it!” I squealed, jumping up and down and clapping my hands like a little girl.

I noticed a small café in one of the nooks and crannies of the town. It was the perfect place to catch my breath, and I found out one of the items on the menu was sparkling wine. I sat down outside, watching the serene surface of the sea. An old woman brought me a glass of wine and said something in Italian, gently stroking my hand. Jesus, I didn’t even have to understand the words to know what she was talking about—that all men were bastards unworthy of our tears. I sat at the table and stared out at the sea until it grew dark. I wouldn’t have been able to get up after how much I had to drink, but meanwhile I had ordered a Quattro formaggi pizza that had turned out to be a better salve for my sadness than the wine. Then I had tiramisu and it was one of the best I had in my entire life.
Better than the best champagne.