Chapter 40
Chapter 40
Conor and I walk inside the living room hand in hand, and that’s when I realize that I’m not yet ready for the world—at least, this world—to have an opinion about us. The midafternoon light streams through the gauzy curtains. I squeeze his fingers before freeing mine, flash him an apologetic grin, and decide to pretend that we got here at the same time by chance. After all, Eli just summoned us all via text.
Fate, and all that.
Conor sits next to Minami, bouncing Kaede on his knee, remarkably patient as she fists her little fingers around his ears to keep her balance. From several seats down, I blow silly faces at her to make her giggle, Nyota’s feet on my lap.
“So,” she asks, “where were we this morning?”
I meet her eyes. Smile, and watch her do the same.
“Well played, Killgore.”
“Thought you might be proud of me.”
“Oh, I am. I’d buy you a new car, if I wasn’t sure that Daddy’s already on it.”
When Eli and Rue arrive, they sit on the stool in front of the grand piano. “So,” he starts, “short story short, we spent the past forty-eight hours trying to figure out how to get thirty-something people here. Catania is not the only airport in Sicily, and we explored the possibility of boats and buses. But the domino effect of thousands of people rescheduling travel was too much. It may even be difficult to get you guys out of here—”
“Hang on. So the wedding’s off?” Axel’s devastation is epic. And unexpected.
“That man is invested,” Nyota mutters. “Was he in charge of the wedding trousseau, or something?”
“I think he just likes love?” I shrug. “No thoughts, head empty, but in a romantic way.” He’s a sweet boy. Man. Whatever. He’ll find someone to take him in hand and will make for a great life partner.
“The wedding is not off,” Eli reassures. His arm tightens around Rue, who leans deeper into him. “Rue and I got married.”
Silence. I wonder if I should pretend to be surprised. Glance at Conor, who’s smiling like he can’t be bothered to fake it.
“Yup. We did it without you guys in attendance. I know we lured you here under the false pretense that you’d get to witness the beginning of the rest of our lives, and—”
“Despicable,” Minami mutters drily.
“—we are very sorry that we acted selfishly. Just kidding, we aren’t. This wedding was a total shitshow, and hearing my very rational fiancée unironically use the word ‘curse’ precipitated this decision. With all due respect, y’all may fuck yourselves.”
Tisha raises her hand. “Will you be taking questions at this time?”
“Ah…Sure.”
“ When did you get married?”
“Early this morning—”
A chorus of groans. After a few moments, cash is exchanging hands. Most of it flows into Nyota’s direction.
“Thank you, yes, thank you—Nu-uh, Tamryn, you may pay in euros, but the exchange rate was much more advantageous to me at the time of the bet.”
“Ye olde bastards,” Tisha mutters, opening up her Venmo app. “You couldn’t do it half a day later, could you?”
After paying up, people flock to Eli and Rue for hugs and congratulations. Axel hiccups with joy while his brother rubs his back.
“Now I don’t know what to do,” Nyota mumbles, counting her cash.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just, with no ceremony, no rehearsal dinner, no introductions to fuckable bachelors…I’m not sure that Rue worked hard enough for that Instagram follow.”
I snort.
“Now that you have enriched yourself off of our wedding anguish,” Eli says, “let me tell you about our plans. We’ll sail for Greece in two days and stick around till then. The villa is available to all of you through the next week, too, thanks to Tamryn. Stay as long as you like.”
“Through next year,” Tamryn adds with a cheeky smile. “Please, feel free to exercise your squatting rights to their full extent in my late husband’s not-yet-settled real estate portfolio.” Everyone laughs.
“Any other questions?” Eli asks.
I raise my hand.
“Yes, Maya.”
“What about the ball pit we were promised?”
He raises his middle finger at me as he leaves with Rue.
I catch Conor’s eyes as he hands Kaede over to Sul. I smile, and so does he. A new feeling floods me: That he and I are on the same side of an invisible line, and the rest of the world is elsewhere. Our very own Isola Bella. Sandbar accessibility subject to changes in sea levels.
“Honestly?” Nyota says, adjusting to lay her head over my shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“This wedding was a fucking mess.”
“Yup.”
“And I’m no closer to becoming a rich dude’s kept woman.”
“Nope.”
“But, like…it was a good week.”
I close my eyes. Inhale the rose-scent of her hair.
“Yeah. It was.”
In keeping with the rest of the week, the largest freezer in the villa comes to an untimely demise about twenty minutes later.
“Is this connected to the eruption?” I ask when I see Lucrezia’s boys schlepping heavy-looking containers onto the patio.
“I highly doubt it,” Avery says. “I think it’s just…”
“Another turbulent event in a long list of curse-precipitated occurrences?”
“I didn’t wanna put it like that, but I don’t think the Greek goddess of weddings has bestowed her blessing upon us. Anyway, they’re trying to rearrange the frozen foods, but it sounds like sacrifices will have to be made, so if you have any room in your stomach…” She points at four vats full of the gelato that has been garnishing my brioches in the mornings. Clearly, they need eating. Right now.
“What’s that cake over there?” Nyota asks.
“Wild berries and cream and some kind of pistachio filling. It was supposed to be for the rehearsal dinner, but…”
“Does it mean that we can have it?”
“I think it means that we must have it.”
Lucrezia hands us spoons and bowls with the solemn expression of a queen knighting a squire. Eli, Conor, and Minami are on the other side of the patio, laughing so hard, they look seconds away from pissing themselves. It’s a familiar scene, a decade-old memory—the three of them teasing each other and being utter assholes and saying things no one can hope to make sense of, not even Sul. Jokes that are so inside, they sound like insults. But it’s palpable how much they care, even when they’re angry or frustrated or fed up with each other. The way they’ll drop anything, forgive anything, accept anything.
“Watch out.” Avery points at the gelato melting down my spoon, across my knuckles. A perfect brown drip of bacio.
Conor said that it means “kiss.”
I take a breath. Sit next to Avery. “About last night,” I start.
She’s already shaking her head. “Oh, god. No, I…” Her grimace is contrite. “I had no idea you…It all makes sense now. I feel terrible about what I said back at the theater—”
“Don’t, please. I should have just told you that I liked him.”
We share a smile—one that starts tense, then turns sheepish, then morphs into kindness.
“It sounds like it’s a bit more than that,” she says gently, and I do not refute her. “I need you to know that I’m not in love with him, or anything. This won’t break my heart or create issues at work. I like him, but…Minami introduced us a few years ago. She told me how great he was, and when my ex and I broke up, I thought…Why not Hark? Minami vouched for him. It would have been…convenient.”
I nod, trying to listen and understand, keep my ears and my heart open, not to let the jealousy take over.
“He told me about you, you know?” she adds. “Last summer. On our second and last date. Had a couple of drinks and let it all out. Said he was in love with someone else. I assumed he was talking about Minami.”
“Oh.”
“It was dumb. It should have been obvious to me that he wasn’t talking about Minami when he mentioned that given the extent of his feelings for you, pushing you away was the only sane thing. That he was sure he’d end up taking over your entire life and taking advantage of you .” She says the last bit with a slight Irish accent, and we both chuckle.
“He’s so fucking dramatic,” I say fondly, shaking my head.
“Yup. But he cares, and tries to do the right thing over the easy one. A little misguided, sometimes, but well-intentioned.” The sun has reached our table, and she tilts her face back, welcoming it. “I think you might be exactly what he needs.”
“How so?”
“Hark takes himself pretty seriously. He could do with someone who’ll laugh at his constant bullshit and won’t let him brood. Someone to steal some of his headspace from the constant grind, you know? A reason to come home.”
I want that, I think. I want to be that for him. I want him to be that for me. But I say: “It’s early on.”
“Yeah.”
“And I am twenty-three.”
“Yup.”
“I guess…It might still not work. Who knows.”
She nods. Smiles. Knocks my arm with hers as she picks up her spoon. “Or maybe it will.”