She nods.
"Maybe?"
"Maybe a little or maybe a lot?"
"Why do you ask?"
She chews with her mouth open. "Because it determines how much you're not over him."
"I'm totally over him," I rush out, rolling my eyes.
When I see her unconvinced face I exhale loudly. "Really. It's been too long. I just wish we got the closure."
She pulls a salty face. "Closure is a myth and you know it. Youwriteabout it."
I sigh again. She's right.
"What would you want to happen now?" she asks bluntly and I blankly stare at her. How the hell am I supposed to know?
Then my phone dings on the table and I rush to it like it could tell me what to do.
It doesn't. It's worse.
Carl:Darling! Back from Hawaii. Let's schedule a meeting to discuss what you're working on. We can't have such a big gap.
Sighing, I show the message to Lucy, hoping she couldmagic me out of it, but she just sneers with "Ah, real life" and walks away.
"I've been telling him I have something for the past two months," I say, thumb hovering over my phone. "Help me come up with an excuse."
But Lucy's not even listening. Her voice floats from behind me. "Mm. Not bad. Is that a Venetian mask?"
"What?" I mumble, absentminded.
"The home of the Italian stallion?" she teases.
I freeze.
Then slowly turn to the mural and goosebumps rise like a tide.
Venice. Ben's family is from Venice. The boat in my dream. The man in the window. The umbrella with gondolas—hisumbrella—opening in my face.
"Oh shit. Lu," I whisper, then clamp a hand over my mouth. "I had this dream..."
She frowns, confused. "How drunk are you? You already told me that."
"No." I slap the phone on the table and pace around the kitchen. "A different one. It was weeks ago. The guy in the window. I knew him. He was waiting for me. I was trying to reach him..."
It all comes spilling out—halting, stumbling, every fragment—and by the end, I'm gnawing at my nails while Lu's lips twitch because she's holding back her witchy grin.
"It's not funny. It's straight-up creepy!" I slump on the wall, dragging a hand over my face.
"Told you. Twin flames." She shrugs. And then her voice drops and her thin brow flicks up: "This is where it gets good."
I stare at the mural and shake my head. "No... Absolutely no."
But it's right there—the black eyes, the glowing yellow face.
It's Ben, looking back at me.
