Could she actually go to Italy and never came back?
No. Impossible. And actually cruel to consider.
So all the what ifs thatwerepossible included her returning to his side. Maybe they would never be more than friends. Maybe this round of their affair would sputter out once they had fully exercised all their unfulfilled desires.
But she would be back.
And she knew there was a difference between what she wanted—his love—and what she needed. He was working hard to build a life for himself, and it might not have space for her. She didn’t need him to make room for her if he wasn’t there yet.
She wasn’t going to demand anything from him. Wouldn’t be any kind of drain.
All she wanted was an open door when she returned.
Now, she smoothed her hand over his beating heart. “I can’t stay. But I can come back, if you want. And if you aren’t sure—”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I want you to come back.”
“We don’t need to explain that to anyone.”
“No, but that won’t stop them from asking.” He tugged on a strand of her hair. “I don’t mind the questions, for the record. I just don’t like people talking about you.”
She frowned. “And I just don’t like people talking about you.”
“Me? I’m a grownup, Mon. Big shoulders. I can take some gossip.”
She slid her hands up to hook behind his neck. “I’ve been trained to ignore people talking about me since birth.”
“Well, la di da,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to hover over hers.
“I think I left my sunglasses at your apartment.” Her breath hitched.
“Then we’d better go get them before I relinquish you to your mother.”
“Might take a bit to find them…” She brushed a kiss against the corner of his lips.
“I’ll help you do a thorough search, don’t worry.”
29
Josh was miserable.
Monica had been gone for four days, and he’d had work to pour himself into—nonstop tire changes, as everyone in Pine Harbour rolled up to his garage to swap out their winter tires for the all-seasons or summer tires they used when it wasn’t fucking freezing out.
It wasn’t enough to distract him from the painful, clawing sensation in his chest, like his heart wanted to tear itself out of the hollow shell of his being.
And her scent was on every surface of his apartment.
By Saturday morning, he’d given up trying to sleep. He dragged himself out of the bed that made him think of her, strapped on his running shoes, and headed out the door for a punishing run.
He found himself on Seth and January’s street, clear across town, before he slowed down.
Chest heaving, he texted his brother.
Josh
You up?
Seth
