Page 40 of Willow in the Wind

Or she’s too frightened to admit it, even to herself.

“He did play that, yes,” Stella said. “But there were others. Care to take another guess?”

James laughed. It suddenly felt as though they were the only two people in the room. “He wouldn’t have played a sappy version of ‘Friday I’m in Love’ by The Cure, would he have?”

Stella pressed her lips together. Tears glinted in her eyes. There was a strange silence across the room, punctuated with whispers as people tried to guess what was happening.

“He brought down the house with that one,” Stella said, her voice wavering.

James’s knees buckled. He thought he might go down.

But suddenly, Esme had the microphone again, and she was announcing more snacks and more wine. People got up from their chairs and milled toward the autograph table. A few of them glanced back at James curiously; a few of them looked annoyed at him for taking too much of their time with silly questions. Over their heads, he searched for Stella, but it was as though the great beast of her fans had swallowed her up.

Did that really just happen?

A woman twisted around to look at him, then whispered into her friend’s ear. What was she saying? Did she suspect something? Already, a massive queue was forming from the big table in front, through the chairs, and down the stairs of the Sutton Book Club. If James got in back, he’d be here for the next two or three hours, waiting around like a chump. Had he asked the wrong question? Should he have stood and said,It’s me! My love for you has probably destroyed every other relationship I’ve ever had!No. He had to be subtle.

Subtlety was an art form.

Suddenly, a man appeared through the crowd and walked right up to him. James recognized him as the guy Stella had looked at in the crowd earlier when she’d been asked if she was single or dating.

The man stuck his hand out to shake James’s. His eyes reflected something. It was as though he already knew.But how?

“Hi,” he said. “My name is Matt Fallon. I was married to Stella for fifteen years.”

James’s lips parted with surprise. He shook Matt’s hand because he didn’t know how to get out of it. “Good to meet you.”

Matt let his hand drop. A moment of silence passed. “Are you him?”

Sweat billowed across James’s neck. He eyed the door and hunted for excuses. He certainly didn’t want to talk to Stella’s ex-husband about their long-ago love affair.

“I’m not sure what you mean. But I have to catch a ferry,” he said instead. “Nice to meet you, Matt.”

James slunk away from Stella’s ex-husband and bucked out the door. Already, he felt the shimmering sun on his face. Already, he had imagined telling this story to Taylor the following week. She’d say, “I’m glad you went, but you were a total wimp when you got there.” And James would have to agree with her.A total wimp.

James had spent his career writing about other people.

Somebody had finally written about him.

And he just couldn’t handle it.

It felt ironic.

Suddenly, a voice rang out from the door of the Sutton Book Club. “James!”

James was already at the corner. His heart thwacked in his throat. But Stella’s footsteps came closer and closer. She was running. He could hear her gasping. “James?”

She was chasing him. James considered running faster. Instead, he slowed and turned around to face her.

Stella’s face was marred with rage. She looked all the more beautiful for it. He could see her at twenty-one—wild and free, dancing on a Grecian beach, swimming naked in the sea.

What a tragedy that we had to get older,he thought.

“Are you just going to leave?” Stella demanded. “Just like that?”

James had tears in his eyes. He hadn’t rehearsed what to say.

Suddenly, James realized that fifty pairs of eyes were watching them from the front lawn of the Sutton Book Club. Cameras and phones were raised; flashes were coming from expensive-looking cameras. A few journalists ran across the street to get a better angle.

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