Chapter Nine #2
I refrain from telling her that the cockpit feels more like home these days than my bedroom at my parents’ house. No place feels like home when you move around so much.
“I like being able to travel the world.” The words sound so mechanical, but my mother eats them up nonetheless.
I zone out as she begins telling me about the women at the country club, the ones who all have daughters who would suit me undeniably.
She glazes over the fact that half of the country club daughters are freshly eighteen.
She’s really desperate if she’s ready to face cradle-snatching accusations.
She goes on and on, and I don’t even know what she’s saying anymore.
Not as my eyes catch on olive skin wrapped in forest green.
I slip out of my mom’s grasp, muttering a halfhearted ‘sorry’ as I follow Marina through the crowd as she heads toward the ballroom doors. She is probably going to the bathroom, but that doesn’t stop me from following her.
“Marina,” I say, reaching out and letting my fingers wrap loosely around her forearm.
She turns around, and as soon as she sees me, she freezes.
It’s almost like time stops as her eyes lock on where our skin connects.
I rub my thumb back and forth ever so slightly.
I don’t know why I do it. It’s like my body doesn’t know how to be in her proximity when we aren’t us .
That’s all I know how to be around her. I’m not sure how to be anything else, how to navigate being around her in any other way.
She slips her arm from my grasp, turning and pushing on the door with the image of a woman on the front.
I wait a beat, staring at the wooden door before I push on it myself. When I walk in, I see Marina standing in front of the mirror, her gaze jumps to mine in the reflection, and as soon as she sees me, she backs up. “You know, some people might call this harassment.”
It sounds ridiculous, but with just that sentence alone, I realize she doesn’t know how to not be us either. Because if Marina D’Angelo really felt like I was harassing her, she would’ve punched me in the throat by now.
“And some people might call it desperation. It’s lucky that I don't care about what other people think.”
“You can’t just come into the girl's bathroom and corner me into a conversation, Miles.” Her eyebrows raise as she says my name, and a wave of grief washes over me at the sound of it. God, how I’ve missed the sound of my name on her lips.
The sound of the door opening again stops me from answering as a woman walks into the room with us. She stops when she sees me, her eyes darting between the two of us, but lingering on me, the man standing in the middle of the women’s bathroom.
“You can leave now,” Marina says, her hip popping out as she folds her arms. There’s that assertiveness I know so well .
I should be doing as she says, but my feet are stuck in place. “Miles, fuck off so this woman can pee in peace.”
I nearly scoff at how straightforward she is, how borderline mean she’s being right now—not that I don’t deserve it. But at the same time, all I can focus on is how much I used to love this side of her, how it felt like a challenge to get her to soften for me, and how she always would.
But I can’t exactly fight her on this one, so I turn and pull on the bathroom door, escaping out into the air-conditioned hallway.
It makes me realize just how hot I became in that bathroom just now.
The way my body warmed at just being within five feet of Marina.
Of being alone with her for the first time in four years, even if it was only for a moment.
My heart pulls inside my chest, like it’s been held back in restraints for so long, and it finally wants to get free.
The last four years have been nothing but me trying to justify my decision to myself, pretending I wasn’t missing her with every fiber of my being.
But I can’t pretend now, not when I’m face-to-face with the one person who made life feel easy.
Like it was meant to be lived exactly how we lived it back then; full of belly laughs and late-night swims, an absurd amount of desserts shared, and so many kisses that we nearly ran out of breath.
I can’t help but think that I’m glad Isla found herself in Marina’s orbit.
I’m not surprised they became close so quickly, Marina isn’t hard to love, in fact, I think loving her was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.
It was leaving that was hard. But it was my choice, and I have to live with the consequences of that choice, no matter how hard it is.
But I don’t know if I can live with it, considering I’m chasing a girl into the bathroom at my sister's wedding.
I get a sour taste on my tongue thinking about how these days, Marina might know more about Isla than I do. May too.
I used to be the person they would go to for everything.
Every high school drama or teenage boy who hurt their feelings, I was there.
I loved those girls more than anything, they’re what got me through all the grueling nights of study and hard times at home.
They were my comfort. I don’t know how I went so long without hearing their voices.
Without their laughs, and their sassy comments, and their defense tactics for if they ever got into a dodgy situation like the ones they watch on those true crime documentaries that they’re so addicted to.
At least they used to be, I wouldn’t know if they still are.
I kick myself internally for letting so much distance fall between us, emotionally and physically.
It’s like I somehow forgot just how much I need those girls in my life. But I won’t ever forget it again.
And the two of them probably know more about Marina than I ever did. That almost hurts more, I don’t know what that says about me.
The door opens beside me and the woman who walked in before heads back to the ballroom, giving me a mad case of side eye as she goes. Then comes Marina. She struts out, not sparing a glance my way, even though I know she knows I’m here.
“Dance with me,” I blurt out from where I follow behind her. I must have truly lost my mind.
She whips around to face me. “No!”
I sigh. I don’t know what else I expected. It’s not like she was ever going to say yes. Not in this universe, and not in any others. Maybe in the one where I stayed all those years ago.
“What makes you think I would do that? You can’t just pop back up after four years and pretend that nothing happened, Miles.” She looks around as if checking to see if anyone else is walking through the open hallway, but it’s just us.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
Her voice drops to a shouting kind of whisper. “Something did happen, Miles,” she points at me, walking forward. “You—“ Her voice wavers, and then she stops. I can see the moment she decides that this conversation is over.
She shakes her head. “You know, it doesn’t even matter.
I’m sorry about before,” she goes to turn away before swinging back around, “actually,” she holds up a finger, standing tall, “no, I’m not.
You—” She stops again, thinking better of whatever she was about to say.
She closes her eyes for a beat before opening them again, leaving my eyes glued to her hazel ones as she says, “Have a good night, Miles.”
“Marina.” I reach for her again, not wanting to let this opportunity to explain myself slip away, but I forgot how fast she can walk, and before I can take another step toward her, she’s slipped back into the ballroom and disappeared into the crowd .
I scrub a hand across my face, feeling like things are left unfinished, even more so than it was all those years ago.
That wound reopened for both of us simply because we’ve seen each other.
Now that I’ve touched her skin again, and let her perfume infiltrate my senses…
I can’t go back to pretending I haven’t spent the last four years doing anything but missing her.
She has an effect on me that I’ve never been able to shake off, and that’s exactly why I left.
If I kept going back there, if I kept seeing Marina, I would’ve given up everything I’d worked for to be with her.
And I couldn’t do that. After everything, I couldn’t take that chance.
Not back then, not when I needed to keep going.
I didn’t know how to explain to her that there was too much pressure on my shoulders to just give it all up.
Because to be with her, I would’ve done exactly that.
I would’ve chosen her, I would’ve chosen myself, and I had never done that before.
I had never wanted anything the way I wanted her, and that’s what scared me.
Staying in Italy was never an option for me, I was there for a break, that’s all. But it became so much more than that in so little time. She became so much more than I ever expected.
I amble back into the ballroom to find my sister in her beautiful white dress standing at the bar, a margarita in hand. Very classy indeed.
“You want one?” she asks as I head over to her.
I tip my head. “Why not?”
“Another one, please,” Isla says to the man behind the bar, who just replies with a warm smile.
She hooks one of her arms through mine and leans her head on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask. “My sister just got hitched.”
“Maybe because your ex is here… Maybe because you disappeared at the exact same time. Is everything okay?”
I run my hand over her hair. “She had some stuff she needed to get off her chest, and some stuff I probably needed to hear. But yeah, everything is okay. ”
“Okay,” she mutters.
“Plus, it’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, not on your wedding day.” I see her little smile against my shoulder at that.
The music that was pumping earlier is nothing more than a whisper now, the evening winding down, and I can’t help but be grateful that I can share this quiet moment with my sister.
“We don’t have the same last name anymore,” she muses.
I just grin, taking a sip of the margarita the bartender just dropped in front of me. “At least you know Dad won’t try to get you to run Beckett Accountancy now that you’re a Marchetti.”
“Oh, he gave it one last shot this morning.”
I snort into my drink, choking on a laugh. “Oh my god, he did not.”
Isla lifts her head from my shoulder, raising an eyebrow and raising her glass in silent cheers. “Oh yeah, he did.”
“What a dick,” I shake my head. Isla just giggles into her glass.
I watch her as she takes a sip of the margarita, her eyes twinkling when the fresh taste explodes in her mouth.
“Do you know how proud I am of you?” I ask, her brows furrowing together as she looks at me. “How much you inspire me?”
She sticks her bottom lip out. “Miles.”
“I’m serious,” I say, spinning to face her. “I mean, look at you,” I gesture to the dress billowing over the edges of her stool. “Here you are, married, living your dream life on the other side of the world.” Isla’s eyes turn to glass as I talk. “You’re kicking ass, sis.”
She grabs hold of my hand. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“When do you head back?” she asks, wiping at the corner of her eye.
“In a couple of days, I fly to Tokyo.”
“Tokyo, huh?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a couple of days there before I fly back to the States, so Wes and I are going to explore a little bit. You’ll call me when you land in Australia, yeah?”
“I’ll be sure to report how smooth the landing is on a scale from one to ten.”
I chuckle. “That’s my girl.”