Summer in Sorrento by Melissa Hill Page A

Nate and Sarah purposefully avoiding looking at each other or speaking in anything more than monosyllables. Sarah wasn't sure if the Italian taxi driver didn't speak much English or if he could sense by their mood that this wasn't a time for small talk, but in any case he drove without speaking to them, and she lapsed back into her own memories.
    The wedding. Oh, it had indeed been beautiful.  But immediately afterwards, things started falling to pieces once more. Sarah had had her heart set on a honeymoon on a tropical Indonesian island since she'd been a teenager, and they'd originally made arrangements to fly to Bali for a two-week stay, complete with rooms in those cute little huts above the water and plenty of time to sun themselves on the beach during the day.
    They arranged to fly into San Francisco and spend a night there before leaving the U.S. for their trip, but the next morning at their hotel they received a phone call from Nate's parents: his brother had been in a car accident leaving the wedding and was in serious condition at the hospital.
    Sarah swallowed her disappointment and told Nate that of course they had to cancel the honeymoon and return home; this was a family emergency, after all.
    But the honeymoon was not easily rescheduled. His brother recovered slowly and Nate was determined to stay in Chicago to help him as long as he was needed.
    Then there were troubles re-booking the hotel. Sarah began to suspect that Nate didn't really care about going after all when he expressed a lack of interest in helping her plan the trip; that led to another argument. The stress of their courtship and wedding and the weeks following it were beginning to wear on the newly married couple, and small disagreements were becoming a regular part of their life together. Sarah hoped desperately that a belated honeymoon would give them a fresh start and allow them to put this bumpy period behind them.
    At last, they had come to an agreement: Autumn in Verona. An old school friend had holidayed in Italy the previous year and raved about the delights of the city, the romantic atmosphere, the food, the art, and the feeling of stepping into another world where the stresses of everyday life did not exist.
    It sounded perfect to Sarah, and she booked their stay immediately.
    Of course, the plans for the trip itself did not go smoothly either. There was the argument about the luggage; the unexpected fees to fast-track an up to date passport (which led to another casual remark from Nate to his new bride that she didn't plan things out far enough in advance).
    They were forced to adjust their travel plans at the last minute when their direct flight to Verona was cancelled, forcing them to scramble for a different flight and endure a series of unpleasant (and time-consuming) layovers, delaying them still further from their elusive romantic honeymoon.
    And now to top it all off, the misplaced luggage, to be forwarded to their Verona hotel no sooner than Sunday. It was now Thursday afternoon. Sarah gazed out the window of the taxi and tried to lose herself in the sights and sounds of the Italian capital.
    The taxi reached the train station in short order, and they boarded in the same stiff silence that had reigned throughout their flight and taxi ride. They had been told that the train journey would take about three hours, and Sarah pulled out her novel once more, pointedly ignoring Nate's expression of irritation, and determined to lose herself in it as they travelled.
    However, she soon put it back in her bag, immediately absorbed in the view from the train windows.
    The Italian countryside was bathed in the soft light of an autumn afternoon; they were travelling to Verona just as sunset approached, and the soft golden light only enhanced the beauty of the scene.
    Sarah scooted closer to the window to gaze out at the gentle roll of hills, farms and lavender fields dusky in the last rays of light, trees casting gentle shadows over