"It gave them the excuse," she said stubbornly.

"But you were married. Didn't you love him?"

"So much that it scared me."

"Ah. I see."

"Don't say that. You don't see anything. I wanted our marriage to work, but – I can't explain -"

She could never explain the fear that had pervaded her. Too much happiness, she had thought. One day it would be snatched away. Watch for that moment, be ready for it, go to meet it with a smile, and don't let anyone know you care. Never, never let them know that.

No, she couldn't put these things into words.

But then, looking at Riccardo's face, she knew she didn't have to. He understood everything. He'd seen into her soul with eyes of love and seen the turmoil of rage, bitterness and misery that was insidiously driving out everything else, until the best had all gone.

"He wanted a child," she said abruptly. "I didn't. Not then, anyway. Who am I to be a parent? So we started to quarrel. One day – one day, I realized that the quarrels were destroying us."

"So you quarreled harder, to drive him away," Riccardo said. "You reckoned that would be less painful than waiting for the breakup to occur naturally."

She stared. "How did you know that?"

"It's not magic. Attack sometimes seems the best form of defense. But it leaves you with nothing."

"I can cope with nothing," she said desperately. "It's what I'm used to. What I can't take is believing in something and then learning all over again that it's an illusion."

"I know," he said gently, tightening his arms and drawing her against him.

In the comfort of his embrace it was easy to fall asleep again. When she awoke it was night, and they were speeding back across the lagoon.

"Where are we going now?" she asked, coming to stand beside him at the wheel.