A week later, a familiar voice echoed over the phone: "Hi, I came back to Sarajevo a few days ago."
I couldn't believe my ears. She continued: "Please, forgive me, I didn't mean to be like that. My aunt just made me panic."
"Alright, but where did you go in the end?" I asked, my voice hesitant with the surprise of the call and its effect on my emotions.
"When the ferry arrived in Bari, I dialed Emil's telephone number in Ravello. It rang three times, and a woman's voice answered with "Pronto!" She asked me whom I wanted to speak to. On hearing my reply, she went brusque: "Emil was not at home. I could try again after two hours' time." In two hours she again answered, telling me that he was still not at home.
I knew where I stood. I walked through Bari all day and booked a room at a pension. I stayed awake all night, that night in Bari, thinking on the experiences and events of the last year which we had shared, and tried to clear my had of everyone and everything. The day after, I took the ferry back to Dubrovnik- Luckily for me, the bus service between Dubrovnik and Sarajevo had just recently resumed. Oh, Renato, we need to talk."
"O.K. What about tomorrow evening?" I felt optimistic, but reason persuaded me to be careful and cautious. "Yes, of course. I would prefer tonight, but I'm grateful that you agree to see me after all," she replied, with a faltering voice.