Chapter 21
Jade
Two days later, I can’t stop replaying Barcelona.
I’ve been quiet all day. Through the flight to Rome, the drive out to Castel Gandolfo, settling into Santo’s villa. My friends noticed—of course they noticed—but they gave me space.
Now, though, as we explore the villa, I can feel their eyes on me.
“Damn, this place is amazing,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice. My mouth literally fell open when I had entered earlier.
“I know, right?” Emma grins. She’s putting away the groceries we picked up on our way out to the countryside, leaving the three of us to discover the house ourselves.
I wander from room to room, poking my nose in places and exploring.
I’ve never met someone with a second home that I know of.
Well, actually, this is Santo’s only home—he rents in the city, which is what made it easy for him and Emma to move in together.
But it feels like it needs a qualifier—he doesn’t live here.
Back in the kitchen, I pour glasses of wine and join Tessa and Sara out on the balcony. They ooh and aah over the view.
But I’m not thinking about the view. I’m thinking about the way Carlos couldn’t meet my eyes. The way my friends were right—six weeks isn’t enough time for anything real. The way I’ve been so incredibly stupid.
I take a long sip of wine.
“Oh, this is the life,” I say, sinking into a chair and trying to focus on the gorgeous view over the trees and the lake.
Castel Gandolfo sits beside a lake—of course, what would a papal summer home be without a lakeside retreat?
—and we can see almost the whole thing, plus the patchwork of the village center through the trees.
Everything is awash with the colors of sunset.
Sara starts in on her and Chris’s schedule, which is rapidly becoming a source of conflict between them.
It’s been almost a year since we arrived in Europe, and Sara and Chris are trying to figure out what to do now that Zoe is on summer break and Chris still needs to be mostly in London.
Eventually they’ll be in London full time, but until then, it’s a lot of travel and coordination.
I don’t have anyone to compare schedules with, to take into consideration when I leave Madrid. I will go back to Austin and resume my job at my old office easily.
The voices of my friends flow around me.
It won’t be the same. Emma graduates from her MBA program in December, and who knows where she and Santo will end up after that.
Tessa is going to stay in Europe, moving to Paris, and Chris and Sara are splitting their time between Austin and London.
They’ve all got partners now, and I’m in the middle of two months of travel with a man I have felt such a variety of emotions with—attraction, anger, shame, embarrassment, and now . . . loneliness.
They all found love in Europe. Emma and Santo. Tessa and Luc. Sara and Chris.
For a moment—just a brief, stupid moment after that kiss—I thought maybe I could too.
But I’m the one leaving. I was always the one leaving.
I should have known better.
I didn’t see Carlos yesterday. His schedule said he was on an early morning flight, and I took a later one.
I didn’t go into the office, and instead spent the day doing housekeeping; unpacking my bag, doing laundry, repacking my bag, charging my vibrator .
. . not that I’ll get to use it this weekend.
Did Carlos wake up next to the other woman? For half a moment I see them lying together, an alarm going off in the dark to give them time before his flight to . . .
Ugh.
“Jade?” Sara calls, startling me.
I turn my head. “What?”
Tessa looks at me funny. “Where were you?”
“Sorry.” I shake my head, ponytail swishing side to side. “I wasn’t paying attention. What were you saying?”
“Is this about your work?” Sara asks. “Are you doing okay?”
“Work is okay,” I assure them. I bite my lip, thinking about it. “It’s not work related, really. Well, it is, but it isn’t.”
The three of them frown at me.
“Okay, you better tell us before Emma goes mama bear on you,” Tessa jokes. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
“I saw Carlos going to his hotel room with a woman. I mean, I don’t care if he’s seeing anyone.
” I try to sound casual, but even I can hear the hollowness in my voice.
If I say it out loud, it might be true, right?
“But it hasn’t come up at all, and isn’t that weird?
She was young, too, maybe in her thirties. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“Did you ask him about her?” Emma asks.
“No.” My voice is all pouty, and I sound and feel like a teenager crushing on a boy.
Again. Didn’t I already go through this cycle of crush-enemies with Carlos?
I throw my head back. “Argh! Why is he so hard to talk to? If it weren’t for these presentations, everything would be fine.
He’s in a different department. We hardly ever saw each other.
Why can’t I have a different translator? Why?”
“Sorry, sweetie.” Tessa bends forward to pat my knee. “It’s only temporary.”
The four of us go quiet and I take a hearty sip of my wine.
We have one more weekend getaway planned before I leave Madrid.
It’s been almost a year of jet-setting across Europe, visiting our new—temporary—homes, checking out tourist destinations, and eating and drinking our way through the cities.
But there’s one place I’ve been dying to go to. This is the last chance.
“And on that note,” I say, and I put everything I have into it—the full wattage, the hands, the eyebrows—“can we finally go to Monaco?”
It works. The table shifts. Emma starts listing hotels. Tessa pulls out her phone.
I am, if nothing else, an excellent redirector of energy.
The conversation shifts to planning—hotels, trains, casino dress codes. My friends let me change the subject, but I can feel their concern lingering.
It’s fine. I’m fine.
I just need to get through four more presentations, keep things professional with Carlos, and then I can go home and forget any of this ever happened.
It’s better this way.
It has to be.