Cecilia - Twelve
By the time we left the restaurant, my skin was flushed from the wine and my stomach full to its happiest brim.
We’d had three courses because the boys had insisted on paying and despite half-heartedly trying to wave off the idea, the pair of us had exclusively been living off baguettes since we’d arrive in France, so the idea of three, mouthwatering courses was an offer we couldn’t refuse.
The starters had arrived like art. There had been thin slices of melon draped over cured ham, a plate of anchovies glistening with olive oil and lemon, and a small basket of pissaladière, very similar to pizza, which was warm and fragrant.
Siena had pulled a face at the anchovies and then Nate took every chance he got to place them as close to her as possible.
The pair of them were incorrigible, they squabbled like children at times.
For mains, I’d ordered the sea bream, roasted with fennel and orange.
It was the kind of thing I’d never think to cook at home but would dream about for days after.
Theo had gone for steak, of course – it used to be one of his favourite dishes, and I caught him once or twice nudging a bit of it towards my plate like he knew I was curious to try it.
He always used to give me some of his steak.
It was stupid how something so small made my heart hurt a little.
We shared a chocolate tart and a chilled lavender crème br?lée between us for dessert, passing the dishes around the table with murmurs of oh my God and you have to try this .
Once everything had been finished, we all sat there basking in the sunshine and draining the last dregs of our wine.
“I can’t eat anything else,” Siena declared, slumping back in her chair, her sunglasses sliding down her nose. “I actually think I’ve become bread.”
Nate grinned, leaning his arm on the back of his chair. “Thought you looked different.”
She threw a napkin at him and he caught it one-handed.
I laughed, softer than I expected, and caught Theo looking at me from across the table. His gaze was quiet, unreadable, but he looked like he was trying to memorise something.
Outside, the sun had mellowed a little, dipping into the soft gold of late afternoon.
The air had the perfect warm breeze that caressed my bare shoulders.
Siena looped her arm through mine, still clutching our shopping bags from the boutique with our stained clothes; she was convinced we’d be able to salvage the items, I was yet to be convinced.
Theo and Nate walked just ahead of us, Theo turning slightly to talk to Nate, his voice low. I wasn’t trying to listen, but I watched the way his hand gestured as he spoke, the way the breeze tugged at his shirt .
“Do you think they’ve always been like this?” Siena murmured beside me, tipping her head slightly in their direction.
“Like what?”
She smirked. “Golden retriever energy. Can’t believe they used to be feral little boys.”
“They probably still are.”
Theo turned then and caught me looking at him, his lips curved into a knowing smile and it was nearly impossible to resist myself smiling back at him.
He was practically irresistible; he was so confident, so familiar with his surroundings – he even was fluent in French for god’s sake and I felt as if I was stunned in his presence.
He’d always been confident, but now he was charming and handsome and so unbelievably distracting. And he wasn’t mine to be fawning over.
Siena’s hand tightened briefly on my arm. “Are you okay?”
I hesitated. The wine made it easier to pretend I didn’t know what she meant. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She gave me a look that said: come on.
I shrugged. “It’s just lunch. Just friends.”
“How many times are you going to keep saying that?” she asked and I was sure I heard sympathy in her voice.
“Until it sticks,” I mumbled.
“Hey girls, come this way!” Nate said and pointed towards the sea.
We wandered toward the waterfront, pulled by the promise of a breeze and that easy lull that comes after good food and good company.
Siena had dropped back giving me some space and was currently in the middle of arguing with Nate about a sandwich story that at this point I was sure she had invented purely to wind him up.
Much to her dismay, Nate was playing along, adding dramatic sound effects and gasping in all the right places.
I barely registered what they were saying. I was too busy watching the way Theo walked just ahead of me, his hands tucked into his pockets, his shoulders loose in a way that made me ache. There was no reason for it. He was just a man walking through a sunny afternoon in the south of France.
“Over there,” Nate said, gesturing toward a path that led up a short rise. “There’s a little lookout point. It’s a bit of a climb but it’s worth it.”
Siena groaned. “More climbing?”
“You’ve done worse in heels.”
“Yeah, but I was drunk and had the right motivation,” she winked as she said it, patting him on his chest and I think the comment threw Nate off for all of two seconds, before he shook his head and followed back along.
We made our way up the path anyway, winding between rocky outcrops and wild rosemary, the sea glinting through the gaps in the trees. I heard Siena and Nate fall behind a little — whether on purpose or just distracted by more banter, I couldn’t tell.
Theo slowed beside me.
“Too much wine?” he asked, glancing over.
“Never.”
His mouth tilted into a smile .
“I missed this,” I said without thinking. “I missed spending time with you.”
His gaze flicked over to mine. “Me too.”
It was quiet for a moment. Only the sound of waves in the distance and the rhythmic crunch of our steps on the gravel path.
“You were always the safest person I knew,” I added. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Theo stopped walking. Just for a beat. Then he turned, eyes on mine.
“What about Adrian?” he asked and I could tell he was fighting to keep his composure as he said his name, almost as if it tasted funny coming from him mouth.
“He wasn’t—not the same--,” I ran my hands through my hair and then met his eyes. “No,” I finally said.
The wind lifted the hem of my dress and tugged at my hair and I suddenly felt very young and very old all at once.
He didn’t reach for me. He didn’t need to.
“Come on,” he said finally, voice soft. “You’ll want to see this view and maybe we can talk about it at the top.”
We crested the hill and there it was — the wide, sparkling sea, a few sailboats rocking in the marina, the sun a liquid gold just beginning to dip. It was too beautiful. Too much. I didn’t know what to do with it all.
Theo stood beside me, our arms barely brushing.
I should have moved. I should have said something light or casual to cut the tension, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I didn’t know what I wanted, not really.
He was looking at me and I’d seen that look before—all those years ago, outside a quaint, little, village pub where I stumbled onto the gravel. He didn’t need to say anything and I knew from my facial reaction that he was thinking about the same thing I was.
“I’ve been thinking about that night,” I said, the words slipping out before I had the chance to stop them.
His brow furrowed gently and I saw the realisation settle behind his eyes.
“So have I,” he said quietly.
“I don’t know why we never talked about it. Maybe I just… buried it.”
Theo didn’t speak, but he waited. That was the thing about him. He never demanded anything from me. He just waited, like he knew eventually I’d say what I needed to say.
I looked back out at the water, not because it was beautiful — though it was — but because it gave me somewhere to focus.
“I think part of me knew,” I said quietly. “That it would be big. That if I let myself really look at you that way, it wouldn’t be something I could easily come back from.”
Theo didn’t speak, but his expression told me he understood. He always had.
“It wasn’t just the kiss or what it would mean for our friendship, it was me really.
I wasn’t in the right headspace for anything serious, I was so torn between wanting to grow up, yet feeling so lost as a kid still.
When I was younger, I always thought eighteen seemed really old, but I didn’t have a clue what I was doing,” I said and I knew I was mumbling.
“And then Adrian just happened and I guess I thought being in a relationship would fix me or something, but I barely loved myself and over time I just became even more lost.”
I sighed then and looked over at him to see if he was listening, but of course he was. Theo gave me a close-lipped smile of encouragement and I opened my mouth to keep speaking, before closing it again.
“I’m here. I’m listening,” he said softly and my heart folded in on itself.
“I was with Adrian for a long time,” I said. “You know that. But you don’t know what it was like. And I don’t think I really did either, not until it was over.”
I paused, breathing in through my nose, trying to find the right words for something that still lived in the cracks of me.
“He made me feel small. In ways that didn’t even look like cruelty at first. I think that’s the worst kind. The quiet kind. The kind that nips away at you so slowly you start to think it’s your fault you’re shrinking.”
Theo’s jaw was tight now, his body still beside mine. I could feel the quiet rage in the silence building, seemingly coming off his body in waves and crashing against the shore, much like the sea below us.