“Just one?”
“I have a million, but they can wait. Would you have told me this without a buzz?” He laughed.
“I’m not really buzzed,” she said, smiling. “I just have a little more courage now. Also I wanted to tell you so you understand why all of this is important to me. I feel like I sold my ability to be a real clinician and my integrity along with it when I signed that contract. Now, I am afraid that the show is the only thing I have left. I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to doubt myself. I admit that I have the same feeling you do about your situation—that maybe this is all I am good for. It’s so hard to not feel insecure.”
“So let me get this straight. First, you’re feeling terrible because you think you’re some Dr. Phil–level faker who might not be good at anything, and you’ve decided that saving the show that you don’t believe in is the only way to make it better because at least then you’re not also a quitter?”
“Something like that.”
“I suppose it won’t help to tell you all the ways that you are absolutelynotDr. Phil.”
“No.” Ellie turned back to the leafy green canopy and the blue sky beyond. “You would only be saying that because we’ve known each other for a long time and because I am not bald. Not good enough.”
“We’ll see about that. Second, you discovered something about yourself that makes you feel good, but you are afraid it will be interpreted as a weakness. And you think that keeping the show going is going to shield you from that.”
“I think the show is the quickest path to redemption, and that’s what I need right now.”
“I guess you have your mind made up, then.”
“I do. Which is why I’m going to do the absolute best I can for you to shine in this interview. I am committed. We are going to get you back to… well, to whatever it is that you want to get back to.” She smiled. “So you can get out of it completely.”
“I want to be honest,” he said. “That’s all I want to do. Like you, I hate how this feels, and I am afraid of being misunderstood, too.” He turned to look at her again. “By anyone.”
“Yes,” she said, sighing heavily. “I know.”
“Even though I don’t agree with you about your thought process on this, I trust you to know what’s right for you. You’re sure that you are getting what you need out of this, right?”
“Thank you. I am. You agreeing to be on the show means you are willing to look past so many of my mistakes and trust me, so other people might, too.”
“I get what you’re saying, but it might be pretty hard to explain that I’m not trusting you because I am looking past any flaw at all.It’s because I’ve known you all my life, and nothing you just told me changes the fact that I have always thought you are an incredible person. Even when I was too much of an idiot to show you.”
Ellie stared at him, blinking, processing what he said. Cris pulled her hand up to his mouth and placed a kiss across her knuckles. Their faces were inches apart, closer than they’d been in over a decade. And while he looked older, there was so much about him that was the same. She stared at their hands again, looking for the scar he’d gotten across the pad of his thumb from trying to change his grandmother’s tire on her ancient Citroën Due Cavalli. He’d needed six stitches and had to wear a plastic bag over his hand in the water for the rest of the summer.
Although she didn’t know much about the man lying next to her, she did know almost everything about the boy he’d been. He would never need to tell her the stories he would have had to share with someone new because she knew them as well as her own. And the more time they spent together, the more she remembered—and the more she knew he did, too. She could tell by the way he was looking at her right there under the eucalyptus tree.
“I am not going to bring up the fact that anyone who doesn’t believe you’re amazing isn’t worth your time or stress, but you can be sure I am thinking it. Every second.”
“Thank you,” she said, not wanting to move. Their faces drew closer. Fire burned in her belly again, but this time she did not want it to stop.
“Because you are.” Their foreheads almost met and his eyes dropped to her mouth. Cris unclasped their hands and touched the side of her face, drawing a stray lock of her hair back. She could not breathe, not even a little bit. “Ellie—” he said, still staring at her mouth.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Cris dipped his head down, their mouths meeting in a soft kiss of sparks. It was bottle rockets and roller coasters, suntan lotion and candy lip gloss, music on the radio and saltwater sunsets. The sweetness melted into heat, kids to adults, their mouths opening deeper. His hand cupped her face and she ran her hand around to his back. Cris’s tongue slid over hers, smooth and perfect, tasting of wine and apples. The kiss felt new, but her heart recognized who she shared it with. They broke the kiss, and Cris pulled her into him. Ellie wrapped her arms around him, too, wanting to feel his body close in a way that she almost never craved.
“I missed you,” he said, so softly she almost didn’t hear it. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on tighter.
CHAPTER 19
“Hey! Did I catch you at a bad time? I am up early, so I figured you might be around.”
Omar always called using WhatsApp when she was away, and it was audio-only, which was a huge relief in a world of video calls. It was noon in Chiavari, which made it 6:00A.M.in New York, and Omar’s voice sounded sleepy around the edges. Ellie had spent another morning decompressing at the apartment with the vague idea of returning emails, though she had yet to open up her computer. So far she had continually reread the first chapter of a book on her Kindle in between leaning into her mother’s bedroom to check on her while Peggy launched into a full-on stress-induced closet purge.
Ellie knew that Cris was heading to the airport to pick up his brothers, who were coming in from the World Athletic training center in Colorado, so she didn’t feel like she was avoiding anything. Except, she was totally avoiding everything. She woke up at least four times throughout the night feeling as short of breath as she did when her facewas a half inch away from Cris’s, and her chest actually hurt from all of those shots of adrenaline that pummeled her every time she thought of him. They had spent the car ride back talking more about the show, confirming to each other that doing the interview was the right thing, finding reasons to touch hands and fingers. Simone had met them at the garage when they got back to Chiavari, so they were only able to say a quick goodbye. She didn’t even realize how much she was hoping for one more hug until she didn’t get one. As she was getting into bed later that night, he’d sent her a text:Sogni d’oro, Ellie Canestrelli. Sweet dreams, indeed. If last night was any indication, she wouldn’t sleep for the next year.
“No, no, this is a good time! I was thinking that…” Ellie tried to think of something to say, but decided to just dive into it. “That I should get in touch with you, actually. I think I have the perfect comeback guest.”
“Really? Wow, who is it?”
