Villa Lipari: A Naples Love Story

By Rob Kircher

Villa Lipari – A Naples Love Story is an intense psychological suspense thriller set within the affluent backdrop of Port Royal Naples, Florida, that chronicles Rosa and Julian Lowenstein's extraordinary telepathic powers as fraternal twins and their most unimaginable love-hate relationship.

The incredible advancements in medical research suggest that it is entirely plausible for sophisticated intelligence to have existed within Rosa and Julian's fetuses long before the traditionally held twenty-eighth week of pregnancy and the very real plausibility that awareness of each other may have occurred at their moment of conception. Even more astonishing, it is entirely reasonable to think that Rosa and Julian's fetuses had the means to alter selective elements within their predetermined genetic paths through the development of acute telepathic abilities.

Villa Lipari – A Naples Love Story pries open normalcy and exposes a most competitive underside that entraps their wealthy South American father and his blue-blood trophy wife in their psychological battle for survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rob Kircher
• Release date: Feb 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005387976

Rob Kircher

While growing up, I knew I loved the arts and self-expression. But like most young people, I wasn't sure how to apply it...or what I wanted to be. My first job was in broadcasting as a radio announcer. After I graduated from the prestigious Tisch School of the Arts at New York University with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree, I became a news writer in Manhattan, leading to a management position at a network television affiliate. Driven further, I founded a New York-based brand marketing firm with offices in North Carolina and the Republic of Panama, creating scores of marketing and advertising campaigns for domestic and international clients. It was in Panama that I became a columnist for a Spanish-American newspaper. Later, I wrote the screenplay and co-produced my first feature film, which fueled my interest in fictional psychological suspense. Along the way, my love of video and film led to producing television programming in various genres. What I learned through those many experiences was that I have an enormous dislike for sameness and a never-ending desire to do things differently;...the quintessential soul of writing...the finely weaved fabric that ignites emotions and charges impulses...defining who and what we are during our short and fragile existence.

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Friday, February 15, 1991

Angelica Lowenstein’s

Fraternal Twin Pregnancy

Rosa and Julian Lowenstein embarked on their epic journey through life when their unique set of DNA combined into distinct human signatures that never existed before and would never again. Their genetic codes would decide what kind of persons they would become, with much of their futures already predetermined.

However, many plausible biological considerations for Rosa and Julian Lowenstein could have also occurred during their nine-month growth. The logic of limitless probability in today's world of medical achievement suggests that it is feasible for sophisticated intelligence to have existed within Rosa and Julian's fetuses long before the traditionally held twenty-eighth week of pregnancy and the very real plausibility that awareness of each other may have occurred at their moment of conception. Even more astonishing, it is entirely reasonable to think that Rosa and Julian's fetuses had the means to alter selective elements within their predetermined genetic paths through the development of acute telepathic abilities.

Day 286:

Angelica Lowenstein was overdue. She kept waiting for the first signs of contraction of her uterus and the breaking of her water when the amniotic sac ruptured. However, Rosa and Julian's lungs and the placenta determined the time of their birth by altering the placenta's production of hormones, slowing some, and introducing new ones that started the contraction of the uterine wall. Finally, their alveoli became lined with capillaries where the oxygen exchange took place. Capillaries in the remainder of their bodies also formed and filled with blood that ensured all of Rosa and Julian's organs would receive oxygenated blood once they were born.

Ready to be born, Rosa and Julian Lowenstein's fetuses turned heads down in Angelica's womb, creating a volley of intermittent sharp painful kicks to her ribs. The cervix opened, and each contraction of Angelica's uterus pushed Rosa further through the cervix and vagina until her head became visible. As soon as Rosa was delivered, her lungs drained of fluid, and air rushed in and expanded her air sacs to begin taking in oxygen. Her vital systems began working independently, and her umbilical cord was cut.

Two minutes later, Julian arrived on Friday, February 15, 1991.

Chapter 2 – COMPULSION

Saturday, June 21, 1986:

Villa Lipari

Port Royal, Naples

It has a name. Villa Lipari, the middle-aged, reddish-blonde realtor enticed as she drives Eduardo down the long curving driveway. It reflects a place and time somewhere on the island of Lipari, off the northern coast of Sicily.

Her enthusiasm brightens even more as she pulls around the massive fountain and up to the impressive front entrance. I’ve heard many theories about Villa Lipari. You know, tantalizing bits and pieces of this and that. But no one knows the truth, she enriches as they exit her red Mercedes convertible. The popular romantic belief is that the elderly Italian owner, Ricardo Ricci, built the villa for a lost lover. Sadly, he died shortly after constructing this masterpiece…leaving behind an architectural jewel of classic proportions. At its center is a massive vaulted two-storied room he called the grand hall with a magnificent circular stairway that appears to float effortlessly between them. Apparently, this work of art has a symbolic meaning to their love affair. But again, no one knows how.

The sole heir is a love child, a son living in Rome. However, the listing agent said he’s not the type to share any secrets. He’s only interested in selling the place for the highest price possible."

With an alluring voice, she added, For what it’s worth, I believe the old man never intended to live in residence. I think he wanted to leave it as a memorial, of sorts, to the two of them. Who knows? It adds to the captivating appeal of Villa Lipari!

However, Villa Lipari evoked a painful sense of déjà vu. Old stories told by his parents. Shadowy images parked in the back of his mind of the house his parents once owned, of the place of his birth in Cologne, Germany.

Saturday, January 7, 1939:

Cologne, Germany

The winter night was bitterly cold when Eduardo was born to Heimrich and Ria Lowenstein at Klarhofweg 128 in the exclusive section of Cologne, Germany. He was then, and remained, their only child. The family physician and close friend, Dr. Jurgen Eisenmann, delivered the healthy boy at 3:15 am on January 7 in the second-floor master bedroom of their impressive four-level residence.

It was an imposing structure with exterior walls made from skillfully cut gray Alpine quarried stone. Laid meticulously by master masons, one layer intersected the next in a distinct network of visually accurate rows. The stoic granite façade, formidable in appearance, faithfully replicated his parents' stringent requirements for quality artistry, proportion, harmony, and balance, while reflecting an exclusiveness that set it apart from other mansions in the affluent tree-lined district.

Dr. Eisenmann completed the mandatory birth certificate in the first-floor library by dutifully recording Heimrich son's name as Edwardt Manfred Lowenstein. Tired, the two men sat in upholstered wing chairs and enjoyed the warmth of the fireplace while sipping vintage French cognac and smoking imported Cuban cigars. Their conversation soon moved from congratulatory to anxious concern over Edwardt's birth.

The time was beyond worrisome for Jews in Germany in 1939. A series of planned 'Pogroms' mob attacks against them had begun the year before. The most infamous was Reichskristallnacht (Night of Broken Glass) throughout Nazi Germany and Austria on November 9th and 10th, 1938. It was a hellish two nights when hundreds of Jewish stores and synagogues were damaged or burned to the ground, along with their homes, hospitals, and schools. Remnants of those riots left the streets strewn with broken glass and debris. More devastatingly, it marked the earnest incarceration of Jews by Hitler's Third Reich, with over 30,000 arrested and sent to concentration camps during that period.

The old friends knew the end had already begun. Gone were the days of thinking that anti-Semitism was a temporary situation, and the hatred would not escalate. Time was limited. They could only bribe so many government officials, use up so many favors before the pounding of the Storm Troopers would come to their doors. Now was the moment to plan their escape.

Heimrich looked at the birth certificate, the handwriting that spelled out his son's name so distinctly: Edwardt Manfred Lowenstein. It was a good name, a proud name, a name that carried his father's and grandfather's memory. Tears pooled as he focused on his name as Father, recalling the heritage of his German-Jewish surname and the many Lowenstein generations that had long been rooted in Deutschland. It had been accepted and entrenched into the homeland, just like any other name. Now, it was despised. Now his beloved country's economic turmoil, the fanaticism of its Nazi leaders, and the blindness of fascist followers had caused the tide of opinion to turn against them. Jews were no longer seen as productive citizens but as inferior animals, blight to society, a scourge that needed to be eliminated at all costs and without exceptions. Germany was infected with the fever of Aryan superiority as the master race, and the purification and racial cleansing necessities carried out by the National Socialist German Workers' Party.

Heimrich trembled as he read his newborn son's name once again.

Saturday, June 21, 1986:

Villa Lipari

Port Royal, Naples

Eduardo was delighted that Villa Lipari had such fame, such distinction as an unparalleled property within prestigious Port Royal. To him, the name Villa Lipari added a singular élan to the residence; an extra-perceived value; a history that his neighbors could not duplicate; a level of notoriety that money could not buy. Any well-placed, well-timed mentioning of its identity would be a priceless advantage and point of envy in any conversation. Eduardo wanted that advantage. He wanted that distinction. Villa Lipari was just what he was looking for...what he required. It became the core of his plan, his most visible trophy. It created an immediate entrée for him within Naples's insulated, affluent inner circle.

His desire to acquire Villa Lipari became obsessive. It paralleled his compulsion to own unique things that set him apart from everyone else – a mindset that came easily, instilled by his parents at a very early age. He watched how they positioned themselves, how they fine-tuned everything about their lives and their business. Owning unique things fit the deliberateness of their lifestyle. Everything in his parents' lives had a reason for being. Everything needed to fit together, like pieces of an intricate puzzle. They taught him to think of each day as a critical building block. What things needed to be completed? What impressions were important? What caused things to occur, and what influenced people to think in certain ways?

To Eduardo's parents, maintaining control was a time-honored trait. Control accomplished plans, attained goals, and realized desires. Eduardo observed their exactness to detail. Nothing was too minor, too trivial, or too insignificant. He knew they left nothing to chance. Nothing they did was careless. They never allowed themselves to be satisfied, never permitted themselves to rest on their laurels, and never lulled themselves into being content with mediocrity. That was a position in life too easily attained. It was for others to accept. It was contrary to their work ethic. To them, everything was an endless collection. Wanting more, having more, and needing more was not a sin. It was a virtue.

From them, Eduardo knew instinctively what was different, what was unusual, and what would set him apart from the norm. He knew the value of being unique; he knew what possession, relationship, and quest would advance his personal and business acumen. He embraced that endless pursuit as vigorously as had his parents.

Yes, Villa Lipari was a correct strategic decision. It was the most prestigious estate in all of Naples. It did not require a street address for identification...only two perfectly spoken words: Villa Lipari. The name rolled easily off his tongue. It did not matter why the old Italian named it as he had, what he was envisioning, or trying to recapture. Eduardo only needed to own it. Everyone knew of it. Everyone would know of him.

The listing agent forwarded his offer of thirty million, and it was quickly accepted.

. . . .

Tuesday, July 27, 2010:

Parc Renaissance Hotel

Manhattan, New York

She was the most beautiful woman Eduardo had ever seen. Her naturally wavy, ginger-colored hair curled easily around her ears and down the nape of her neck with playful casualness. Her amazing emerald-green eyes, milky pink complexion, and a sprinkling of charming freckles enthralled him.

He is still a very virile man, Cynthia thought as she lay next to him in the presidential suite of the iconic Parc Renaissance Hotel. She gazed toward the French doors that looked out onto Central Park, lingering in the pleasurable aftermath of their lovemaking.

I'll be sixty in three years, and you're just twenty-nine, Eduardo playfully reminded as his eyes traced the beautiful contours of her figurine body. Are you sure you know what you're doing?

How can I not love you, Eduardo? Look what you've done for me. I would never have had the willpower if it weren't for you. She seals her comments with a passionate kiss and inviting touches beneath the sheets.

Chapter 3 – WEDDING

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Villa Lipari

Estate Grounds

Cynthia and Eduardo Lowenstein dance euphorically to a romantic melody that fills the warm evening Gulf air of the sprawling Villa Lipari Port Royal estate. Their graceful twirling on the Mandeville-covered veranda captivates the hundreds of guests admiring the beautiful princess in the arms of her dashing prince. Her strapless button-back, white satin wedding gown clings perfectly to the natural curves of her tall, willowy frame, displaying both the skill of its seamstress and designer's keen eye for classic style and detail.

In contrast, Eduardo’s mature, sophisticated bearing with Cynthia’s young, exquisite beauty might confuse a stranger into thinking that a father was dancing with his daughter. However, it is a storybook wedding in a make-believe setting for all those present. The society's wedding of the year in Naples with all eyes drawn by the inescapable magnetism of this attractive and fascinating bride and groom.

. . . .

Eduardo brought Cynthia to Naples's protected and privileged life only days before. Taking her from the glamorous life and hectic pace in Manhattan as one of the world’s highest-paid models, and even further away from her formative blue blood years in Grosse Pointe, Michigan.

For Eduardo, Naples had been a coveted prize long before meeting his new bride. Like any of his decisions, it provided unique advantages and opportunities. He was drawn to its reputation as an affluent playground for the wealthy and one of their most sought winter destinations. However, Naples had an even greater appeal for him. It was the perfect setting to expand his investment banking business. The ideal location to reflect the prominent image he wanted for the firm.

And the jewel in the crown was Port Royal. This address commanded the greatest panache for Eduardo, surpassing all other Naples residential areas in its extravagant display of wealth and indulgence. It is a fashionable haven abounding with mega-million-dollar palaces on fingered channels opening to the Gulf of Mexico. Luxury yachts and custom-made vehicles are routine. Here, sheer financial strength is the sole requirement for entry. It is an exclusive enclave where money is revered, and luxury is its just reward.

. . . .

Away from the main crowd of wedding guests, Eduardo’s eighteen-year-old fraternal twins, Rosa and Julian, silently observe the affectionate behavior of the newlyweds. Even though they are gender opposites, their overall physical appearance is quite similar, with Portuguese heritage evident in their attractive features. However, their personalities and mannerisms are strikingly different.

Rosa's natural blonde hair spills in soft waves to her shoulders. Her brown eyes, flawless light skin, and blossoming body portray an arresting demeanor that conveys absolute control, poise, and confidence.

Julian is slightly taller than Rosa, with brown hair, eyes, and skin tone matching his twin. However, he appears fragile and introverted with delicate features and an underdeveloped physique. His sparsely haired mustache and the mini cherry flavored cigar dangling from his thin lips do little to compensate for his effeminate appearance.

Eduardo impulsively draws Cynthia closer. The motion of her sensual body invites and stirs, arousing his yearning to explore. He runs a hand over the curve of her back, touching the satin-covered buttons that secure the dress to her irresistible body. Her perfumed velvet skin is irresistible as he kisses a shoulder designed to entice and hint at what will follow in their wedding bed.

All of our nights will be like tonight, my love, he promises, sealing the pledge with a loving kiss to her lips. The tender moment brings admiring applause from the reception guests as Cynthia blushes with delight and nestles against Eduardo's firm shoulder.

A powerful telepathic connection from Rosa invades Julian’s pleasant thoughts as he watches the newlyweds lovingly caress.

Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Julian!

Rosa glares disapprovingly at Julian and then contemptuously toward her new stepmother. Julian cowers by bringing his right wrist to his mouth and sucks on the tender skin like a nursing infant.

Chapter 4 – OBSESSION

Monday, August 16, 2010:

Villa Lipari,

Veranda

9:17 am.

The early morning is already hot and humid. Cooling breezes and moderate temperatures will not arrive until mid-October. It is a time of year when one can somehow sense the old Southern ways in the air. It was not so important or necessary to schedule your life by hours and minutes in those days. It was a more genteel era when things slowed down just enough to catch up with your neighbors and the latest news when front porches were a retreat from the heat of the sun and strung hammocks the perfect place for an afternoon nap. Time was measured differently then, not so demanding.

Eduardo and Cynthia are alone, sitting under the spacious teak pergola intertwined with Mandeville wines and white blossoms. Underfoot, large burnt sienna tone tiles cover the beautiful expanse of the artfully designed veranda dotted with groupings of huge terra-cotta pots overflowing with blooming seasonal flowers. Lofting above is the layered tropical canopies of mature Canary Island Date Palms and majestic Cuban Royal Palms filtering the morning rays into soft shadows and every-changing screens of light.

Tender looks mingle with intimate words of love as they complete their honeymoon breakfast. I still can't believe what's happened, Cynthia sighs, scanning Eduardo's handsome face once again. I keep wondering what made us come together so quickly, so unexpectedly…and so happily.

Cynthia had learned to be careful with her relationships, never permitting things to go too far, too quickly, too uncontrollably without braking and standing back to question, assess motives, and the consequences that lay ahead. However, that pragmatic thinking was not always part of her early life. Hard experiences taught her that most romances are impulsive, unrealistic, layered with emotional fantasies and exaggerated feelings. So, what caused her to be so reckless when it came to Eduardo; a man so different from the type she would normally be attracted to...too old, too foreign, too set in his ways. What was there about this man, this Brazilian, this fifty-seven-year-old creature who came so far, so fast with her? Nothing about it was pragmatic. Everything about it was foolhardy. But wonderful.

. . . .

On their first date at a small French restaurant in Soho, Eduardo left no doubt about his modus operandi. It was the businessman in him to create a comfort level, to be open, engaging…and above all, believable. Even though he assumed she thought him single and available, he needed to remove any uncertainty that could become potential obstacles. It was over cocktails when Eduardo revealed he was divorced and had seventeen-year-old fraternal twins.

. . . .

Eduardo listens to his beautiful bride's nervous but excited words. He watches how she speaks, how she forms her lips, how it affects her expression. He reaffirms that Cynthia made the right decision as her words replay in his head.

I keep wondering what made us come together so quickly, so unexpectedly…and so happily?

Her questions did not require a quick response, or probably none. They were not demanding or insistent. Rather, vague musings, the kinds that sound like questions but are statements. Eduardo is grateful for that. He does not know how to explain his attraction, his reasons for wanting her truly...the rationale that made his decision so easy, so absolutely correct.

Eduardo's eyes drift toward the rear of his current market valued fifty-million-dollar Villa Lipari estate, to the manicured lawn and gardens that unfold before them, to the tall privacy hedges that define his expansive property and the cluster of tropical plantings and palm trees that surround a lagoon-shaped swimming pool and waterfalls. Beyond, he knows a meandering path leads to a spacious sundeck, long channel dock, and pleasure boats tied to it.

Today is their first full day as a married couple, their first breakfast together; the first morning Cynthia can call herself Mrs. Eduardo Lowenstein.

Eduardo looks at her incredible face as guilt mounts within. I promise. In another few weeks, the Halferty-Adorante public offering will be complete. It'll mean millions for the firm. He takes her hand. Then we'll go on our honeymoon. I will take you anywhere you want...Paris, Fiji, Bangkok - wherever your heart desires!

Don't you know, Eduardo? We're already on our honeymoon, she responds with a forgiving, unconditional smile.

The tone of her voice, her sweet words, and even more...the implied message make him feel worse for not abandoning his sacred business, just for once and going on their honeymoon. His self-castigation deepens.

What could motivate him to utter those words, to cause such a delay? Everyone would have understood. No one would have questioned him for a second, denied him the pleasure of leaving, putting things on hold, vanishing with his young bride for a few blissful weeks on an unforgettable honeymoon. After all, he is the Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Lowenstein International. Has he not sacrificed enough for it? Does he have to micromanage everything within the all-consuming firm…Lowenstein International...its corporate identity has the same sense of importance and gives the same impression as Villa Lipari. It needs no explanation. Investment people know it. They know who owns it.

. . . .

Mediocrity did not exist in his parent’s vocabulary. It was contrary to their work ethic. To them, everything was an endless collection. Wanting more, having more, and needing more was not a sin. It was a virtue.

. . . .

Eduardo does not have to struggle with his rationale. His decision to postpone Cynthia's dream of a fairytale honeymoon is starkly clear. It's always about money, allowing the confession to surface unchecked in his clinical reasoning. It is all about closing one more deal, acquiring one more piece of business. It is everything he was taught.

. . . .

Don't you know, Eduardo? We're already on our honeymoon.

. . . .

However, he is not a man without feelings justifying that Cynthia's sacrifice will have a greater reward.

I will make it up to you, my love. You will have everything you've ever wanted...the best honeymoon money can buy.

You've already given me more than I ever thought possible.

His anxious words are unabated. No, I mean it. You make plans, and we will go wherever you want...around the world. I don't care.

She sees the ardent truth in his telling expression.

Darling, none of that is important.

But...

Cynthia interrupts with slowly misting eyes. Without you, I would still be in that meat grinder.

But I...

She halts his response with a touch of a finger to his lips. The truth is...you saved my life, Eduardo. Without you, I would not have had the willpower to stop drinking. I would have remained in modeling and continued to spiral downward.

Eduardo gently wipes away her escaping tears.

All I did was fall in love. The truth is I need you more than you need me.

She seals his lips again. You found me when everything was unbearable, the long days, the bloodsucking designers, the constant pressure to always look young and perfect!

It was you who allowed me into your life. Eduardo takes her hand and gently kisses her palm. You are everything I'm not, Cynthia. Everything I wish I could be.

She scans his salt and pepper hair, handsome face absorbing his vulnerable words and expressions of love. Why me, Eduardo? You could have had anyone.

You are not anyone, Cynthia. You never will be.

Then, abruptly Eduardo's demeanor changes to 'all business.' I hate to say this, my love. But I need to go to the office for just a little while, he states emotionless, flatly, pushing himself away from the table. I'll make it up to you. We'll have a romantic lunch, he adds, not giving her a chance to accept or reject his offer. I hope you understand.

Disappointment tears her eyes and rushes her face. Had she made the right decision to marry?

. . . .

Nothing they did was careless. Eduardo’s parents never allowed themselves to be satisfied, never permitted themselves to rest on their laurels, and never lulled themselves into being content with mediocrity. That was a position in life too easily attained. It was for others to accept.

. . . .

Yes. It is Monday morning, the start of a new workweek. However, this is not any ordinary Monday. It was the first morning of their marriage. Moreover, it should have been the first day of their honeymoon.

Cynthia gives herself the length of a sigh to consider his actions and then responds with a resigned but loving smile and soft voice.

Thanks.

Thanks?

Yes, she confirms, with the hurt visible on her face.

. . . .

Everything in his parents' lives had a reason for being. Everything needed to fit together, like pieces of an intricate puzzle. They taught him to think of each day as a critical building block. What things needed to be completed? What impressions were important? What caused things to occur, and what influenced people to think in certain ways?

. . . .

Eduardo bends down and kisses her forehead. I'll have Ms. Cransworth make the reservations for 1:30 pm at Campagna. It's your favorite food...northern Italian. The chauffeur will pick you up. And then, we'll continue. I love you, my darling. He smiles, turns, and then quickly adds, Welcome home, Mrs. Lowenstein!

Heartbroken, Cynthia bravely smiles as she watches her husband step lively across the expansive veranda and then through the French doors and into the kitchen.

Chapter 5 – REALITIES

Monday, August 16, 2010:

Villa Lipari, Kitchen

10:28 a.m.

The fragrances of gardenia and jasmine mingle in the thick humid air as Cynthia slowly returns from a meditative walk through the narrow lanes of Port Royal. Eduardo's insensitivity and sudden departure after breakfast repeatedly played in her head.

I'll make it up to you. We'll have a romantic lunch.

Was spending time together on our first day of marriage a point of negotiation?

I hope you understand.

Why would I? Why would any woman?

I'll have Ms. Cransworth make the reservations…

Why so impersonal? Why couldn't he make them?

The chauffeur will pick you up...

Was I being treated no differently than a client in extending the courtesy of a car and driver?

Welcome home, Mrs. Lowenstein!

Was he a doorman greeting me back from an extended trip?

Cynthia needed to step back and allow herself time to reassess, think things through, and not jump to conclusions. Her pragmatic mindedness is one trait that remains constant, positive, and unwavering. She has learned to depend on it and even admire it in herself.

Her cleansing stroll ends as it began, back on the large veranda. The aroma of strong coffee leads her into the spacious kitchen. It is old coffee, still warming from breakfast - now bitter and extra dark. She likes her coffee best that way and always black. It reminds her of Grosse Pointe, Michigan, and her childhood. Her father always rose early in the morning and drank three cups of black coffee while reading his paper. Then, he would have another cup before he left for the office. She remembers him saying that the last cup was the best cup of the day. A smile brightens her face as she recalls him giving her an occasional sip while perched across the breakfast table, watching him read the Detroit Free Press - diligently checking the latest news from the auto industry. Those times were precious to her. She loved being close to him, feeling secure in his fatherly presence.

It was not until her senior year of high school that Cynthia started to drink coffee regularly, mainly because her friends were doing it to appear older and sophisticated. They all took up smoking for the same reasons. It was in those funny and awkward days of growing up that she truly began to acquire a taste for bitter, hours-old coffee. She loved its almost sudden surge of energy and alertness that no fresh-brewed coffee could match. It was like a shot of adrenaline that ran through her veins, enabling her to think more clearly.

Cynthia takes a mug from the cupboard and fills it with the acidy brew. She needs her fix - sipping its bitterness, allowing the drug to stimulate her brain. It had the opposite effect of alcohol, but the craving was just as addictive. In her mind, she was not an alcoholic. With Eduardo's support, she already proved she could keep it at bay, control the urge - deny its ability to numb. Caffeine was now her strong substitute.

Musing…questions flood her mind.

Is she just now seeing things that she would have normally noticed at first glance? Should she regret her impulsiveness? Has she allowed herself to be reckless with her evaluations rather than pragmatic? Is she thinking too emotionally about her less than one-day-old marriage?

Another sip of caffeine…another welcome charge of energy.

She convinces herself to give it more time. Doubts will disappear; things will change. She knows falling in love and marrying the only man she had ever felt right with was the correct decision. A heavy emotional weight has lifted from her shoulders. She has satisfactorily justified why she resides at Villa Lipari in Naples rather than the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

. . . .

Saturday, July 27, 1996:

Parc Renaissance Hotel

Manhattan

Eduardo promised that nothing would stand