Theo - Eight
The scent of salt and smoke hung in the air, curling into the folds of my collar as I watched the last light pour itself into the sea.
Juan les Pins beach had always looked good at golden hour, but tonight, it was drenched in something more—something golden and aching.
The light glazed everything with warmth, from the slow stretch of tide to the curve of the cliffside, glowing as though the world had held its breath for this hour alone. Or maybe it was me holding my breath.
Natalie’s laughter rang next to me as she leaned into a conversation with someone I barely knew, her hand still resting lightly on my arm. I nodded where I was supposed to, smiled at the right moments, but my mind was somewhere else. Someone else.
I hadn’t seen Celia yet, but I knew she was here. I’d felt it the second the light shifted. Like something pulled in the tide.
I caught myself scanning the crowd again.
And there she was.
Dressed in soft green, skin catching what little gold the sky had left, her hair swept up with curls trailing loose, eyes bright like the sea just before dusk.
My heart stalled for a beat—just long enough to notice the way she laughed with Siena, the kind of laugh that made everything in me ache.
She looked otherworldly. Like something too good to belong to this world for long.
I wanted to walk to her. I almost did.
But then she looked away.
Not at me.
Right past me.
And I remembered Natalie.
I shifted, trying to find balance in the sand beneath my feet.
I hadn’t told Celia about Natalie. I hadn’t lied, exactly.
Truthfully, Celia hadn’t asked if I had a girlfriend.
And I hadn’t offered it. The moment she said my name in that bar, everything else blurred.
I kept waiting for the right time to tell her.
And then the right time passed. And then it became too late.
Now, it would just feel like a slap in the face.
That’s why I’d nearly wanted to hit Nate when he suggested she come tonight. Not because I didn’t want her here, but because I hadn’t told her yet. Because I should’ve. And now thanks to my brother, and the ever-ironic timing of the universe, my time had run out.
I stared out toward the dance floor again, trying not to track her every movement.
Natalie turned slightly toward me. "You okay? You’ve gone quiet."
I offered her a faint smile, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Yeah, just watching the sunset. It’s stunning."
She hummed, satisfied enough, and returned to her conversation. She didn’t notice the way my gaze kept drifting .
Didn’t notice that it wasn’t the sunset I couldn’t look away from.
Natalie was good. She was kind. Familiar. But Cecilia?
Cecilia was gravity.
My eyes snagged on Siena as her and Cece were walking away from a guy, both of them laughing.
Something in Cecilia’s posture had shifted.
Lighter. Looser. She’d taken two drinks from his hands like she’d earned them and disappeared into the movement of the dance floor, hips swaying gently in rhythm.
I stood there, useless, watching.
And then she looked back. Just briefly. Our eyes catching for the smallest of moments and I felt something inside of me lurch forward. Just as the feeling careened through my body, she looked away. But my whole body reacted like she was still glancing my way.
I needed to go and talk to her, to explain and to apologise for not telling her.
I found myself moving before I’d made a decision to. I touched Natalie’s arm gently, murmured something about needing a drink, and slipped away before she could ask more. My gaze didn’t leave Cecilia.
She was dancing, her body swaying in time with the music, a glass in one hand, her smile painted with moonlight and mischief. The closer I got, the louder the pulse in my ears grew, until the music was just a backdrop to the sound of her laugh.
I stepped in front of her. "Can I steal you for a second? "
She didn’t stop moving, barely paused. "Can’t you see I’m dancing?"
I smiled; eyes fixed on hers. "Of course I can see you. There’s never a time when I can’t see you."
She didn’t quite catch it, or maybe she pretended not to.
I tried again. "Let me buy you a drink."
She paused, searching my face. Something shifted in her expression then, softened. Maybe she saw something in my eyes. Maybe I let too much show.
"Fine," she said at last, "on one condition—you buy Siena one too. We’re two twenty-six-year-olds travelling on limited funds. Judging by the watch on your wrist, you’re doing just fine."
I laughed. "Whatever you want."
She raised a brow. "Actually... what do you do these days?"
"Property development."
She feigned a thoughtful nod. "Right. That’s code for ‘I make money off the rich.’"
I smiled and tilted my head. "Only the horrible ones."
I saw the smirk hiding in her lips, the way she fought the urge to smile as the corner of her lips turned up slightly.
I rested my hand on the small of her back briefly to guide her towards the bar. Siena hung back, catching the moment, giving us space. The lights were low here, the beat softer, the air warmer with the scent of citrus and sea salt .
"I wanted to talk to you," I said, turning to face her fully.
She didn’t let me get far. "Doesn’t have anything to do with the hot brunette, does it?"
I swallowed. "Something like that."
She snorted softly. "If I was your girlfriend, I’d hate to be referred to as 'something like that.'"
My chest tightened. I would never do that to her. But I didn’t say it.
She turned slightly to rest her elbows on the bar. Her collarbone shifted as she moved, and I found myself watching the rise and fall of her chest as she exhaled slowly.
"You should have told me," she said.
"I know,” I sighed.
"Because now it’s awkward."
"Why is it awkward?"
She hesitated. "Because."
"Because what?"
"It just is," she said, sounding exasperated with me.
I leaned in slightly. "Are you jealous?"
Her eyes cut to mine. "Why would I be jealous?"
I shrugged, pretending calm. "Just a vibe I’m picking up from you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Well, your vibe is fucked."
I grinned. "Do you still curse when you lie?"
I didn’t think it was possible for her eyes to narrow even more, yet she tried. I traced the way she bit into the skin on the inside of her left cheek to prevent herself from smiling. "I’ve never done that."
I raised a brow. "You’ve always done that. "
She crossed her arms, jaw set. "We’re just friends." If this was her attempt at changing the subject and moving it back to me, I’d let her have it.
"Oh, I know that," I said quietly. "So why are you annoyed I didn’t tell you?"
Her voice rose just a touch. "Because, Theo—you said you wanted to see me."
"I do want to see you."
"Then why didn’t you just tell me? You were always one of the few people in my life who never lied to me, I’m begging you don’t start now."
I looked at her then, really looked. She was biting her bottom lip now, something she always did when she was trying to keep herself in check. And for a moment, I had to shake the thought of pulling it free with my thumb. Not appropriate. Friends.
I opened my mouth, words catching behind my teeth.
I was going to. I meant to. But as soon as I saw you the whole world stopped. The whole world has stopped every time I've seen you.
What I said instead was, "Because I’m a fucking idiot."
She rolled her eyes. "Clearly."
The edge in her voice softened as the moment settled between us. We both stood there, quiet now, the hum of the beach party filling in the silence. The low murmur of French blended with the crackle of laughter and crashing waves.
I turned my head slightly to look at her. Her profile in the low light was all soft curves and moonlit skin, and her expression had gone unreadable, like she was retreating behind her own eyes. But her hands still rested on the bar, close enough to mine that I could feel her warmth.
When the barman arrived, I ordered a bottle of the wine I knew she liked in French and we both watched in silence as two wineglasses were placed on the bar top in front of us, filled with ice and topped up with rosé.
The bottle was placed beside the glasses in the cooler filling the air with a gentle clang.
Eventually, she cleared her throat, fingers curling slightly around her glass, her eyes fixed somewhere beyond the bottles behind the bar. “So, you head home next week?”
“Flying back to London on Friday.”
She nodded slowly, as if doing the maths in her head. “And then back to real life.”
I smiled at her, providing a non-committal noise as a way of an answer.
“You ever think about moving back?” she asked after a moment, her voice softer now.
“To Nice?”
“Yeah.”
I shrugged, eyes skimming the horizon. “Sometimes. I mean, I only lived here till I was eleven, but… it still feels like a part of me. Even if most of it’s changed.”
She nodded, thoughtful. “I can see why you’d come back. It’s… kind of unreal here.”
“It’s weird,” I said. “Coming back as an adult, I mean. Everything looks smaller, more polished. Like someone took my childhood and repackaged it for tourists.”
Cece smiled faintly. “Still more beautiful than home.”
I smiled at that, giving a non-committal answer. I wasn’t sure it was the buildings or the atmosphere that made a home – although it did help. It was the people more than anything.
It would be so easy, I thought, to fall back into whatever our friendship had been.
To stand here with her and pretend there was nothing in the air but the heat and the music.
But even in this easy rhythm, I was too aware of the gap between us.
Of the things we hadn’t said and maybe wouldn’t.
I didn’t know what she felt now—had never really known, not even back then—and part of me wondered if that had always been the point.
To keep things just far enough apart that neither of us had to admit how close they came to colliding.
I went to say something else but she beat me to it.
“I should get back to Siena,” she said and hiked her thumb over her shoulder in her general direction.
I nodded in agreement, running my hand absentmindedly through my hair at the back of my head. “I should also get back,” I replied and I didn’t need to add to Natalie or to my girlfriend because we both knew what I wasn’t saying.
Cecilia turned to leave with her hands full of the wine I bought, but I touched her wrist to stall her, both of our eyes homing in on where our skin was touching .
“Celia, I’m sorry for not telling you about her,” I said and my voice sounded quiet like this was a moment just for the two of us, despite all the noise around.
Her head dipped in a small nod and her eyes flicked up from her wrist and across my face for the briefest of moments.
“For what it’s worth, she’s really beautiful Theo,” she replied and then she stepped out of reach and started to walk away from me. Her step faltered for the briefest of seconds and I thought she was going to turn back, but almost as if I imagined it, she carried on walking.
I looked down at my right hand feeling the warmth that still lingered where I’d touched her and breathed out a sigh of frustration. Why did everything suddenly feel so complicated?
My eyes scanned the crowd and Natalie’s eyes met mine before casting over to Celia’s and I knew she’d witnessed our exchange. I internally groaned knowing I was going to have to explain for the second time this evening.
Complicated didn’t even cut it.