Chapter 11
Juliette
The following morning, I walked out of my bedroom to find Wes on the phone with someone. My first inclination was to admire his shirtless physique, and the way his hair was beautifully messy in the morning. But immediately I could see that something was off.
He paced repeatedly, seeming nervous, running his hand through his hair.
Oh no. What’s happening?
Wes was muttering, so I couldn’t hear anything clearly, and he was mostly listening to what the other person had to say.
My stomach sank. Are we in danger? All the worst-case scenarios ran through my mind.
Someone found us here.
Something happened to my father.
The moment he hung up, I charged toward him. “What’s wrong, Wes? Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not about us,” he said, letting out a long breath. “It’s my grandmother.” His voice shook. “She’s not doing well. They don’t think she’s going to be alive much longer.” His eyes glistened.
“Oh no.” I covered my mouth. “I’m so sorry. Has she been ill for a while?”
Wes nodded. “Lung cancer. She’s lived a decade longer than the doctors predicted. But it’s finally gotten to be too much for her. They think she only has days to live.”
I placed my hand on my chest. “How old is she?”
“Seventy-nine.”
“You should go see her…”
He shook his head. “Juliette… I don’t need to tell you that’s not possible right now. I can’t just leave you here.” He exhaled, looking tormented.
“Where does she live?”
“Same place as my mom. Down the shore.”
I rushed back to my room to grab my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my father.”
Wes hung his head, but he didn’t try to stop me. He might have been hesitant to piss my father off, but I had no problem doing that.
“Juliette,” my father said as he picked up. “Is everything okay?”
“Wes and I need to leave Ortigia as soon as possible,” I stated matter-of-factly. “His grandmother is dying, and he needs to be able to say goodbye. I won’t take no for an answer. You need to let him go see her without penalty.”
My father let out a long sigh. “And what about your safety?”
“I’ll be with him. No one’s gonna find us there. His family lives down the Jersey Shore, far away from the city. We can come right back here after.”
“I’m worried about this, Juliette.” He paused. “But I can’t let a guy not see his nonna before she dies.”
“Exactly.” I expelled a relieved breath. “Thank you for understanding.”
“Listen to me,” he ordered, his tone growing stern.
“You need to make sure you stick with him. And you’ll fly back private again.
We don’t need you wandering around airports right now.
You’ll check in with me before you leave Jersey.
Most likely you’ll head back to Italy, unless I tell you otherwise.
But don’t book any flights without consulting me first. You hear me? ”
“Okay.” I exhaled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Wait. Don’t hang up. Put Wes on.”
I handed Wes my phone.
He took it. “Yes, sir.”
Wes just kept nodding and yessing my father. “Thank you again,” he finally said.
After he hung up, he exhaled and smiled softly at me. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” I headed toward my room. “Now let’s get the hell out of here. We don’t have time to waste.”
“I’ll arrange for a car to come get us,” he called.
As I threw my clothes into a suitcase, sadness washed over me.
Leaving Italy would be a harsh return to reality, like being forced to wake up from a dream you wished would never end.
I’d miss our little Ortigia bubble.
***
The drive to the airport in Catania had taken a little over an hour. Luckily, my father was able to get us a flight that departed not too long after we arrived.
My nerves calmed considerably once we were safely in the air headed for Newark. About halfway through our flight, Wes bounced his legs as he looked out the window. I placed my hand on his knee, prompting him to look at me.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“It’s gonna be okay, Wes. Think positive. We’re gonna make it in time.”
He blew out a breath and forced a smile, but there was sadness in his eyes.
“So…” I said. “We should probably use this time to talk about what our story is going to be when we get to your mom’s. Things will be emotional for you, and you shouldn’t have to worry about it then. We have the time now, so let’s talk about it.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Of course.”
The fact that he hadn’t brought up a game plan yet showed me just how distraught he was. Who could blame him?
“What exactly does your mom think you’re doing for a living right now?” I asked.
“All she knows is that I’m working privately as a bodyguard after leaving the force. She doesn’t have a clue how dangerous my job really is or the shit I’ve gotten into with your father, and I want to keep it that way.” He shrugged. “Not that being a cop wasn’t dangerous, but you know…”
I sighed. “Unfortunately, I do know.”
He scratched his chin. “But yeah, we should get our stories straight—yet again.”
“Not to pat ourselves on the back, but I think we did a great job with Natalia and Mario in Ortigia.”
“Oscar worthy.” He laughed.
“So, should we tell your mom I’m some damsel in distress with a lot of money, hiring you to look after me?”
He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t think we should say you’re a client at all.
It’s best if we just pretend we’re dating.
I don’t want to bring the job home at a time like this.
Even saying you’re a client is a little too close to the situation, if you know what I mean.
It’s better to keep everyone in the dark, since knowing anything at all can potentially put people in danger. ”
“You have a point there. The less people who know anything, the better.” I nodded. “Okay, so we pretend to be a couple again… That’s old hat for us at this point.”
“My mother might interrogate you a little. She’s not used to me bringing anyone home. I’ve always kept my personal life pretty private, with the exception of one girlfriend. We should probably just say we met on a dating app and that it’s fairly new, but you wanted to come to support me.”
“Okay…” I nodded. “It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that. I’ll be honest about what I do for a living, so no need to pull stuff out of my ass about some pretend career. I’ll just be Juliette. We shouldn’t have to fake too much, aside from the actual nature of our relationship.”
I’d been curious about Wes’s family but never thought I’d have the opportunity to see where he came from.
He’d given me bits and pieces of his past, like the tragedy of losing his brother.
I knew his dad was MIA and had been abusive to his mother.
But it would be interesting to see firsthand what she was like.
“Anything I need to know about your mom or anything else?” I asked.
“Not really. She lives in a modest house, the same one I grew up in. I don’t come from money or anything.”
I drew in my brows. “Why do you feel the need to clarify that?”
“Just making sure you know what to expect.”
“I’d give every red cent my father ever made for a modest house with a normal mom and no crazy-ass father who ruined my life.”
“I get it.” He offered a sympathetic smile.
After a few minutes, he started bouncing his legs again.
“Are you still anxious that we won’t get there in time?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty much all I can think about.”
“Have faith, Wes. It’ll work out. Every second that passes, we’re one step closer to being with your grandma.” I held out my hand, and he took it.
The feel of his fingers intertwining with mine sent a burst of awareness through me.
He squeezed my hand. Touching him felt so natural now.
After about a minute, I reluctantly let go.
Though I’d felt like I needed that contact, too.
Why am I so damn anxious to meet Wes’s mother if our relationship is a sham?
It still felt meaningful somehow. Wes meant a lot to me, even if I couldn’t express to him how much.
***
After we landed in Newark, we picked up our rental car and headed to the Jersey Shore as fast as we could. The drive to the shore from the city was about an hour. Thankfully, we didn’t run into too much traffic.
I’d never been down to the Jersey Shore, which was pretty crazy considering I’d grown up in nearby New York and had been to Jersey many times.
When I was younger, we’d always gone out to Montauk or East Hampton during the summers.
Like many, I supposed, my ideas about the Jersey Shore came from that old MTV show I used to watch when I was a preteen.
It was around seven thirty PM when we finally got to Wes’s grandmother’s house.
The moment the hospice nurse let us in, Wes raced to his grandmother’s room where a hospital bed had been set up. Religious statues surrounded it, and some rosary beads lay on the table next to her.
“Hi, Grandma.” He ran to her and broke into tears as he laid his head on the edge of her bed.
The relief I knew he felt in that moment was tangible.
We made it.
She reached her hand out and placed it on his head.
And he wasn’t the only one relieved. I finally felt my pulse calm a bit.
I’d assured him that everything would turn out okay, but the truth was, there were no guarantees.
It was only by the grace of God that my promise to him had come true, and I couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if she had died before we got here.
His grandma could barely open her eyes, but at one point, she did. “Wes,” she whispered.
“I came all the way from Italy when I found out you weren’t doing well,” he told her. “I love you so much. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“My Wes,” she murmured.
I stayed in a corner of the room and watched as Wes held her hand and whispered to her. Understandably, she wasn’t saying much, since it was a struggle for her to breathe, but she managed a few words here and there.
At one point, she opened her eyes and turned toward where I was standing. “Who’s this?” she said in a raspy voice, barely audible.