“Well, I think Ortigia is the perfect place for an engagement.” Natalia winked over at me as if she were doing me a favor by putting ideas in my “boyfriend’s” head.
Don’t waste your time, Natalia. You’re being punked.
As they continued to chat, I found myself falling into a daydream, wishing this story were somehow true, that our lives really were that simple.
Natalia served dessert as Mario poured more wine. Wes was definitely partaking tonight, which was not like him at all. He’d always insisted he couldn’t drink on the job. It was the first time I’d ever seen him this buzzed, and I was happy he’d let loose for one night.
After we thanked Natalia and Mario for dinner, we bid the sweet couple goodbye and walked back over to the house next door. Wes had his arm around me as we strolled the short distance. My body felt warm from the contact, despite the light chill in the air outside. I knew sober Wes might have thought twice about this physical contact, so I was grateful for his loss of inhibitions.
“That was fun.” He smiled as he entered the house, his eyes hazy.
“I have to say, it was. You did a great job with your performance. You nearly had me convinced you were boyfriend of the year.”
Wes plopped down on the couch and bent his head back. “I can’t do this again.”
“Do what?”
He turned to me. “Drink like that…”
“It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we were even out in public. We were in the safety of their home.”
“I can’t be sure no one will find out where we are, Juliette. We’re never totally safe.”
“You can’t expect to be in Italy for God knows how long and not drink wine, Wes. I get that you’re technically on the job, but you have to live a little.”
He jumped to his feet. “Actually, that’s not true. I have to be a hundred percent all the time. If I let my guard down even once and something happens, I’ll never be able to live with myself. There’s no true relaxing on this job. I’m happy you’re comfortable enough here not to have to think about the situation we’re in. And I’m happy if I’ve helped you forget.” He shook his head. “But I can’t slip like that again.”
That felt like a slap in the face. I’d been so happy to see Wes let loose. I’d hoped we might have more nights like this one.
As tension lingered between us, depression seeped in. For a moment this had felt like a vacation, but it wasn’t. This was a hideout. That was the harsh truth. It was only a matter of time before reality would come back to bite us in the ass.
I started to cry.
“Whoa. What’s going on?” He stepped toward me.
Wiping my eyes, I sniffled. “Nothing. I think I had too much to drink.”
“Too much wine doesn’t make someone cry, Juliette.” He frowned. “Did I say something to upset you?”
“You just woke me from whatever delusion I’d been allowing myself since we arrived.” I shook my head. “As you lied to their faces tonight, I really tried to imagine it was true. It felt good to just be a normal damn person for one night, Wes.”
His expression softened. “I’m sorry for getting snippy with you. And I’m sorry for everything you have to go through because of your father’s fucking poor decisions.” He hung his head. “I wish I could somehow…get you out of this. You don’t deserve it.”
“Neither do you,” I whispered.
Silence lingered between us, and I felt the floodgates open within me. “I used to think I’d have at least one child someday, give them the kind of upbringing I couldn’t have. But the more time passes, I don’t think that’s possible. I don’t think I could bring a child into this world in good conscience if it means they’ll also have to deal with this. The same goes for a partner. I think I’m going to have to end up alone, Wes. How could I inflict this life upon someone I love, have them live in constant fear?”
He didn’t say anything for the longest time.
“You’d be worth it, Juliette,” he finally murmured. “Any real man would take the chance.”
My heart fluttered. Why did this guy have to be so damn level-headedandoff-limits? Why did he also have to be so smoking hot, especially tonight? His eyes were drunk with something that looked an awful lot like desire, his hair tousled from running his hand through it as he lied through his teeth. Fuck, it felt like the wine had just gone straight from my head to my vagina.
“I’m sorry I made you cry,” he said.
“You didn’t. It was the wine. And the reality check.”
To my utter shock, Wes moved toward me, wrapping his muscular arms around my body. The very arms hired to protect me were doing just that—protecting me, but this time not in a physical sense. Now he protected me from my own pain, self-doubt, and anger. Wes’s touch comforted me, even as my hungry body starved for him. But the logical side of my brain knew he’d never cross the line. That made the torturous need inside me even worse.
