Page 32 of The First Time

It’s the perfect afternoon. I’m trying like hell not to analyze what all of this means.

After we finish our food, we both lay back on the blanket and look up at the sky. I turn to my side to face him.

“Thanks for coming,” I tell him.

His hands are behind his head, his biceps on full display. He doesn’t look over at me, but I see a flash of humor across his face.

“That’s not the reaction I received at the airport.”

“Well, you’re different in Italy.”

“How so?” he asks as he faces me, matching my position.

His thigh brushes against mine. I swallow hard. “I don’t know exactly. For one thing, you aren’t mean.”

“Freckles, when am I mean to you?”

I huff. “Come on. Please don’t act innocent in all of this.”

A muscle flicks angrily in his jaw. “I’m serious. I may have teased you, enjoying the reaction it gets out of you. But maybe it’s because if I didn’t do that, I was invisible to you.”

“You have never been invisible to me,” I reply softly.

“Maybe not, but that’s how I felt. You were either ready to hate me or ignore me. I guess I would rather have you hate me than nothing at all.”

I’m not sure what to say back to him. After what he did to me, am I supposed to feel bad for him?

I roll over to my back and sigh. It’s always been so complicated between us. The most frustrating thing is that I don’t even understand why he did what he did to me. But I just can’t bring myself to rehash it on this trip.

“We should get going. It’s a long drive back, and I’m not sure we want to be driving around in Italy in the dark for too long.”

After we pack everything up and bring it back to Lorenzo, thanking him profusely for all his kindness and generosity, we get into our car to start the long drive back to Como.

Josh pops the address into his phone before we hit the road. He follows the directions while I lie my head back and think back to our conversation.

All these years, Josh thought the only way he could get my attention was by making me angry. Is that true? Probably.

I put a wall up after he hurt me. There was likely nothing he could say or do to make me like him again. The man I thought I knew, the man I’m with on this trip, doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would hurt me the way he did. It doesn’t add up.

“You wanna look up places to eat on your phone?” he asks as the sun begins to set. “It looks like we’re about an hour away.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” I grab my phone out of the cup holder. “Shoot. No service.”

“Dammit. I guess we can just wing it when we get back. It might be a bit of a late dinner.”

“That’s fine. I think we…” I stop talking when the navigation system starts to tell Josh something, but then it cuts out, and his phone goes black.

We look at each other and then back at his phone. “What the hell,” he growls as he taps at his phone. “Shit.”

He begins to slow down as he continues cussing to himself.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “Did your phone just die?”

He sighs. “Yes. I don’t have a charger. We will need to use your phone. Can you type in the address?”

“Sure.” I open my app and type in the name of the hotel, but nothing happens. “Shit.”

“What?” he asks.

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