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second one... it happened later on».
    He seemed to hesitate and his voice hardened. I could see he was unsure whether to carry on or stop talking. I asked him to carry on and pretended to be relaxed.
    He told me it had happened in Paris.
    I suddenly understood.
    «In Paris, right? And when did it happen?»
    I had already made a few calculations. His first love story must have come to an end some four years later, and «later on» meant that it had taken him some time to meet the second woman... I just needed to know if my guess was correct.
    He was tense. He was clearly looking for the right words. Then he spoke.
    «While I was in Paris. During the two months that I spent in Paris. I was crazy about you, Claire, and I knew you had an interest in me, but I just didn’t know if you really loved me. It was just sex, Claire. J’ai compris le sens du mot amour seulement après notre rencontre».
    I was really angry. What I had felt in the past few hours had flown away and I suddenly felt ice cold. I stood up and wanted to go away, but first I shouted him: «You know I can’t speak French!»
    He stopped me. He took my arm and looked me in the eyes. He was trying to guess how I was feeling and he was also looking for something to say.
    «I said I understood what love is after meeting you. Claire, I already told you so, but I will tell you again: you’re my wife and I won’t let you go. It won’t happen».
    He was naked and beautiful. He was still lying on the bed and his eyes were so blue. He looked like a Greek divinity. He was still holding my arm and he was determined not to let go of me. I was suddenly hit by the meaning of his words: «I won’t let you go». I was his.
    There was no escaping, because he would have stopped me. So I calmed down, or at least I pretended to.
    «Alex, I must go to the bathroom. I’m not going anywhere». He finally let go of me.
    I was feeling much better by then, but I was still hurting. I was not sure whether it was a matter of pride or love betrayed. He was still lying on the bed, as I had left him.
    I went next to him and hugged him. He hugged me back and caressed my breasts. It was not to show that he loved me, it was just to remind me that I was his. Then he whispered to me: «Claire, my beloved, I’ll always love you. You’re my wife and I will be faithful. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Just not today».
    I was satisfied with his words. I fell asleep in his arms.
    On the following morning we made love. It was sweet. We kissed passionately and got ready for our honeymoon.
     

CHAPTER 4
    AMOR IS THE ANAGRAM OF ROMA
    «As entering the city, a thousand carriages, drivers and tourist guides insist on taking your luggage. They take you as well and you find yourself submerged by English, German, American, French and Russian people running, wandering, asking natives where to go. It all in such a mixed variety of accents».
    Hippolyte Taine -  A Journey to Italy
     
     
    Trains were finally a reality in Europe. Rome was just fifty-five hours away from London.
    It was the Eternal City, a wonderful place. It lacked what other major cities had, that is to say efficiency, but the streets were packed with artists and personalities from all over the world. It was an appealing multicultural city, sure it was. It was clear that the whole urban structure had been undergoing many changes. It still was, actually.
    July had just begun and we had decided to book a room at the Majestic, in «Via Veneto», as they said. It was en elegant hotel, not far from the main attractions. I was willing to see the Pantheon.
    I was under the charm that the building seemed to possess. I soon discovered that it had a rich history.
    «In 1667, mathematicians from the Royal Science Academy traced an imaginary line. They called it the Paris Meridian. The line is originated from the crucifix on top of the Pantheon. The meridian crosses Languedoc-Roussillon and Saint Sulpice».
    I was always stuck when he