Chapter Thirty-Seven
chapter thirty-seven
ISLA
The morning breeze carries the smell of cinnamon and coffee down the street as I walk along Main. Usually strands of hair would be flying in my face by now, but I’ve got my hair tied back in a braid. Ever since that night that Caio braided my hair, I remember how much I like the style on me.
“Isla!” I turn around to see my brother waving at me from where he’s sitting on the rock wall. It reminds me of the day May and I sat along here, ice creams in hand.
“Hey,” I say as I get closer. His tan skin glows under the bright morning sun. I climb up onto the wall and let my feet dangle just above the water. “How long have you been here?”
“A while. I wanted to get out in the sun before we went for coffee.” This is the first time I’ve really seen my brother since my birthday. I’ve been so busy at the studio, and then with Caio…I’ve been too caught up in my own little world to dedicate any time to Miles.
“It’s been good having a few days to myself to explore,” he says, as if reading my mind.
“You like it?” I ask, looking up at the water that stretches on for miles.
He smiles, looking over to me. “It’s perfect for you.”
I laugh. “Yeah, well, I haven’t quite decided what I want to do yet.” He just looks at me with a knowing look in his eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head.
“Nuh-uh,” I nudge him with my shoulder. “What?”
“Let’s do pros and cons.”
I roll my eyes. “I do not need a pros and cons list. There’s so much going on here at the moment?—”
“Okay, so let’s put your thoughts in order.” This is something Miles used to do with me whenever I needed to make a big decision. Whether it was my college degree, moving out to the dorms, whether to buy a new laptop or not. Pros and cons lists were the way we worked everything out when we were younger.
“Pros. Go.”
I groan, knowing I’m not getting out of this. “Okay. It’s pretty.”
“Uh-huh.” He puts his thumb out, beginning to count.
“I’ve got a job.” He flicks another finger up.
“I don’t know. I like it here.”
He rolls his eyes. “Oh my god. Okay, let’s start with the cons then.”
I sigh. “Well, it’s far away.”
“From what?”
“Everything?”
He tilts his head. “Is that really such a bad thing?” I shrug. “When did you get so bad at this?”
“We’re talking about like a life-changing event here, Miles!”
“I know,” he puts his hand over mine. “Why don’t I tell you what I think?”
“Please oh wise one,” I mock. His face turns stern. “Yes, yes, go on.”
“Yes, it’s far away, but like you said, you like it here. From what I can see you’ve found your people. Caio aside, everyone I met on your birthday seems to care for you, right?” I nod in agreement. “Then there’s the elephant in the room,” he nudges my shoulder, and a smile slips from my lips. “My little sister is in love. Big love .”
“I don’t know about love,” I cut in.
“I do. I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. Especially not Brandon.” I snort. “It’s okay to be scared, Isla.”
My eyes start to sting just at that. My brother always knows how to make me cry.
“I am scared,” I whisper.
He pulls me into a hug, careful not to wobble us too much. “I know.”
I let go of a big breath before pulling away. “Can I show you something?” He nods and I drag Miles back over the wall and lead him along Main until we get to Nora’s studio.
I push open the doors and lead him inside to the little corner of the studio that I’ve made mine.
“Are these all yours?” he asks as he begins to flick through the canvases I’ve got stacked up, all the work I’ve accumulated in the last couple of weeks.
“Yeah, I’ve be?—”
“And who is this?” Nora says, appearing out of nowhere. She walks up to my brother with wonder in her eyes and I can’t help but laugh.
“Nora, this is my brother Miles. Miles, this is Nora, she owns the studio.” For now is what I leave out. I can’t bear the idea of this place being anything but exactly what it is right now.
“Nice to meet you ma’am,” Miles says, and I roll my eyes.
Nora just floats over to him and grabs both of his hands in hers as she surveys him. Taking in his tall frame and dark brown eyes, the light mustache that he’s grown in his time away.
“ Oh my , you have such beautiful genes, don’t you!” She looks over to me and I snort. Miles looks over to me for guidance, but I just shrug. “It is so lovely to meet you, Miles.” She reaches her hands up and he brings his head down so she can give him a kiss on the cheek. “Is our Isla showing you her work?” She asks.
Our Isla .
“She is.” Miles walks back over to the paintings in question and crouches down, beginning to flip through them again. “They’re amazing. You’ve improved.” He smiles over at me. Nora gives me a pat on the shoulder before she disappears again.
“Well, I’d hope so. It’s probably been four years since you saw any of my art in person.” I see his eyes drop. “Sorry I?—”
“No,” he cuts me off with his hand up as he stands up. “I should’ve come back more.”
I sit down on a stool behind me, unsure if I’m ready for this conversation. “I don’t blame you.”
“You should. When I left, I was selfish. I didn’t think of you.”
I shake my head. “You never had to; I was fine. At college, I was fine.”
“Still, I should’ve been home more. I should’ve come to see you,” he sighs. “I didn’t think about what Mom and Dad would think of your painting or how they would treat you. I was so glad to be able to fly my own wings that I didn’t look back.”
“Looking back wouldn’t have done you any good,” I say.
“But it would’ve done you good.” He pulls over another stool and sits in front of me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
I nod, fighting back the tears. “You’re here now. And hey, look where I ended up. If you hadn’t been jet setting across the world buying property in Italy, I probably never would’ve ended up here.” The words flow out of me before I really let them sink in. But it’s true.
If Miles didn’t have a house here that we thought we could stay at, we might’ve gone to Tuscany instead, or even Rome. If his place wasn’t being renovated, we would’ve had somewhere to stay when Caio found us. We never would’ve even seen Ruby Cove. Caio would’ve been a pretty stranger we met along the way, not someone who has quickly become maybe the most important person in my life.
“There’s that look,” he says.
“What look?”
“The look that says you’re never going back.” His words settle in my stomach, but not without creating a wave first. A wave of guilt that washes through me every time I even think of staying here. A wave of fear of the unknown. Of not knowing if I’m setting myself up for failure here, or for heartbreak. A wave that I can’t get rid of no matter how hard I try.