She had faith inhim, but she had to wonder if her faith had been misplaced when they got lost in a rabbit warren of stairs and walkways. They had to double back twice before they eventually found the piazza and took a street called Via Masa.
“Now I’ve got it,” Jules announced when they spotted signs for the beach.
“We might be sober by the time we get there,” she said.
“I doubt it,” he responded. “We’re pretty drunk.”
Her phone buzzed as they were struggling to navigate one of many flights of stairs. She used it as an excuse to take a rest.
“It’s a text from Cliff,” she said.
Jules leaned against the rock wall to one side. “What doeshewant?”
“He’s telling me to forget about my book and come home.”
“Oh, yeah, that’d be really smart—forhim. Without your career, you’d be even more dependent on him.”
Jules’s sarcasm spoke volumes. “Yeah. Not a good idea,” she agreed. “He doesn’t care that writing is my dream. He cares only about his own dreams.”
“Fuck Cliff!” Julian said, revisiting his earlier sentiment.
“Yeah, fuck Cliff!” she said and, ignoring her estranged husband’s text, put her phone in her pocket before once again taking Julian’s hand.
When he looked down at their clasped hands, the sweetest smile appeared on his face. “There you are,” he said.
She didn’t know what he meant by that, but she could tell he was talking to himself so she didn’t question it.
They laughed and talked until they reached the water, where they found themselves alone. Apparently, descending close to five hundred stairs wasn’t all that appealing to anyone else, not at this time of night.
A tiny beach tapered down to the water, the moon hung low in the sky and white-crested waves slammed against the magnificent cliffs on either side. Way off in the distance, they could see some twinkling lights she assumed were on the Isle of Capri simply because she knew it was in that general direction.
“God, it’s beautiful in Italy,” she said.
He let go of her hand to grip the railing. They were standing on a small platform, hadn’t yet descended all the way to the sand. “The world is a beautiful place, Char, and I’ve been lucky enough to see most of it. For a guy my age, that’s a lot of traveling.”
“What’s your worst fear?” she asked as she gazed at the moon.
She thought he’d need a few minutes to think about it. That wasn’t a question someone asked every day. But he answered immediately. “Being incapable of doing what I love,” he said, and for a moment he seemed so sad she put her hand over his.
“That will never happen.”
He turned to face her. “Yes, it will.”
“Years and years into the future,” she insisted.
When he remained silent, she looked up to find him studying her. “It’s too bad,” he said.
“What’s too bad?” she asked.
“That we never got together in high school.”
She knew that if she was in her right mind, she’d be shocked that he’d make such a statement. He’d always been careful not to so much as allude to anything romantic between them. “There’s always been too much standing in the way—people we were already involved with, the fear of ruining our friendship, the cost to my relationship with Sloane if we did ruin our friendship. But I feel like it was a missed opportunity, too. Maybe we’d still be together,” she murmured. “Maybe we’d even have children by now.”
“I certainly wouldn’t have been stupid enough to let you go,” he said.
That statement struck a serious tone despite the alcohol, but instead of moving away from him, she caught his face in her hands. “I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to let you go, either,” she said and, rising up on her toes, pressed her lips to his.
It’d been an impulsive action, one fueled by alcohol and probably desperation to escape what she was going through. On some level, Julian understood that. But there was also something much deeper there. They’d known each other for years; Lord knewhe’dcertainly flirted with the thought of “what if?” on numerous occasions. So once Charlotte’s lips touched his, he couldn’t bring himself to set her away from him. He told himself he could allow this much—no more, but this much.
