“You’re a great mom,” I say, sniffling back tears. “But I’m too old to be a big sister, so no surprise babies, okay?”
Mom rears back in horror, making an X with her fingers. “Dear God, no. That’s not happening. Nope, no way.” We both burst into giggles.
After we finish our tea and each go to bed, I lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Mom did what she always claimed she would. She fought her way through life, figuring out who she wanted to be and made that happen. Then she fell in love, and instead of that love consuming her, changing her, it only enhanced who she already was.
If Kai and I had never broken up, who would we be? Would he be a star pitcher, playing in Vancouver? Would I be a successful chef with plans to someday own my own restaurant?
Or would we have had to give up those dreams for each other?
There’s no way of ever knowing what might have been. But seeing just how happy Mom is now only makes me more determined to follow in her footsteps. I can’t let myself be swayed by love, tempted to give up on my dreams.
I will be returning to Italy in a few short months. I will work to earn my way into part ownership of the restaurant there. And maybe someday, I’ll find a man to share that life with.
Turning over onto my side, I fluff my pillow, and try to work through some breathing exercises, hoping to fall asleep.
And hoping that tonight, I don’t dream of Kai Yamaki again.
Chapter eleven
Kai
I can’t stop bouncing on my feet, waiting for her to arrive. I haven’t seen Isabelle in person since the night she showed up at my house. And one video call wasn’t enough to satisfy the craving I have to see her again.
Jesus, just a couple of weeks being aware of her existence in my city has me totally fucked in the head when it comes to her. It’s dangerous, the way I feel. Like I need to be around her, but don’t know if I should be.
We made plans to hang out today since the team has the day off after traveling through the night to get home from our last stretch of away games. I might meet some of the guys at the stadium later for a light workout, but this morning, I’m planning on showing Iz one of my favourite places in the city.
At last, I see her walking toward me, a confused expression on her face. “The aquarium? Really?”
“Yup, really.” I don’t want to tell her that the calm I feel when I come here, especially on a rainy day like today, in the middle of the week when it's not that busy, reminds me of how she used to make me feel.
Peaceful. A part of something bigger than just myself. Filled with wonder.
“Trust me, it’s really cool. C’mon.” I turn to the entrance and grab her hand. She stumbles a step and I freeze. “Shit, sorry. That was… Fuck. Instinct, I guess? I dunno.” I drop her hand and rub the back of my neck instead, looking anywhere but at Isabelle.
“I get it.” Her soft voice has me lifting my gaze. She doesn’t sound mad, or even annoyed that I did that. If anything, she sounds like she understands exactly why it happened.
My surprise continues when she reaches up and removes the hand from behind my neck, taking it in hers and threading our fingers.
“It feels weird to walk beside you and not hold your hand,” she comments, almost casually. “Might as well.”
“Might as well,” I echo, forcing my voice to remain calm, too. Friends can hold hands, right?
I pay our entrance fee, and we walk inside the aquarium. For the next few hours, we’re just two random people enjoying all the displays filled with West Coast aquatic creatures. Iz is fascinated by the jellyfish, we both laugh at the sea lion antics, and spend plenty of time hunting for the octopus hiding in one giant tank.
I find myself letting go of the past, of the pain and worry about what the hell this all means and just enjoy being around her again.
It was always so fucking easy between us. And apparently, even with all the shit we’ve been through, it still is.
In one of the spaces that’s set up with underwater viewing windows for the seals, we find a bench and sit down. Young children are running around with their parents, but it’s mostly quiet where we are.
Call me a sadist, because I know it’s gonna hurt like hell to hear her answer, to listen to her talk about how great things were for her, but I find myself asking anyway.
“Will you tell me about your life in Italy?”
Isabelle studies me for a second, no doubt searching my face to make sure I really want her to answer. But I guess she sees that I do, because she turns forward, watching the seals as she begins to talk.
“It’s, well, it’s good. You remember when I first got there, I told you my dad had married someone? They’re still together and really happy. Luisa’s great.” She smiles, but her hands are still twisting together in her lap. I reach over and cover her hands in mine, and she lets me take one and lace our fingers together again.
