Page 68 of Something Like Fate

“Not if you get poodles and those naked cats. I’d name one of them Vlad,” he says with a grin. He’s far too relaxed for someone who’s just declared they’d marry me.

“I feel like you’d be great with a sphynx. They’re high maintenance like you. Did you know they need suntan lotion so they don’t get burned?”

“I did not know that, and somehow that makes me like them even more. Even if I’d still be allergic to their saliva.”

“Okay, deal. If we’re both single at fifty, we’ll move to the country and adopt poodles and sphynxes.” I think about that for a moment, just Teller and me. It’s strange and a little illicit, thinking about a future with anyone but Caleb. Still, it’s reassuring, knowing that Teller has no intention of not being my friend. Most of the time, marriage pacts seem depressing, but given the alternative of being forever alone and ridden with bad luck, it’s the best life plan I’ve had yet, even better than side-by-side houses.

“Deal.”

“My aunts seem to think things will work out with him. Caleb, I mean. They keep saying if he’s meant for me, we’ll find our way back to each other.” I explain that soulmates don’t always come together easily, which he quietly absorbs. “It’s worked out for everyone else in my family, except Cousin Lin and Great-Aunt Shu.” If it doesn’t, I don’t even want to think about what that says about me.

“You won’t end up like them, Lo,” he assures me.

After our alpaca walk, we snake through rows of vibrant grapevines stretched out in perfectly straight lines. The sun is starting to set, and the leaves catch the sunlight, casting a mosaic of shadows.

“Thank you,” I say over the buzz of a bee hanging out on a cluster of grapes.

“For what?”

“For being here, for supporting me.”

“How are you doing?” he asks, studying my face closely.

I sigh. “I miss him, I’m not gonna lie. But you’ve really helped take my mind off things. Thanks for booking this place, by the way. It’s really special. I feel more connected to my mom here, in Tuscany, than I ever have,” I admit, taking in the rolling hills.

“It’s the most worthwhile expense so far,” Teller says, looking me in the eye. In the light, his eyes look the color of honey, speckled with flecks of forest green. “Seeing you sad is the worst thing in the world. If I can make you laugh by eating random pizza on a curb and making an ass of myself at the pub, I will.” It hadn’t occurred to me that he went out of his comfort zone just for me. “And if anything, I should be thanking you.”

“For what?”

“Everything. Bringing me that cheer-up kit. Making me come on this trip. Adding some excitement to my life. I even got a tattoo because of you! But mostly, being my friend.” My heart soars. It means everything to hear him say that, especially after this year, not knowing where I stood in the lineup of his life.

“Always.”

After the tour is over, we head back to the villa. Our afternoon is spent under the shade of a pergola, getting to know the other guests. We’re seated at a long rustic, wooden table with wine barrels repurposed as seats, where Roc provides never-ending samples of various reds, whites, and even rosé. We hit it off with a pair of bleached-blond middle-aged friends, Loraine and Nettie, who are taking full advantage of the samples, their giggling clear evidence.

“How long have you two been friends?” I ask.

“We were roommates freshman year of college,” Loraine explains. “Me, Nettie, and Marta.”

“Don’t forget Becs,” Nettie adds.

“Oh yeah. But she was barely there. I think we saw her three times total. She mostly stayed with her boyfriend.”

“Anyway, when my parents first dropped me off, Loraine had gone for lunch or something, so I snooped through her things. She had a bunch of crocheted face cloths and this huge photo of Jesus in a gilded frame on her bed, so naturally I assumed she was some basket-weaving ultrareligious type.”

Loraine slaps the table and snorts. “My mom gave it to me. And to be fair, I hadn’t been to a party or even had a boyfriend at that point. Net corrupted me.”

Nettie rolls her eyes. “The first night, we went to the campus bar, and she made out with two different guys. That basically describes her next four years.”

“Honestly, they’re such a blur,” Loraine admits.

I can’t help but smile, already jealous of their long-time friendship, exactly what I so desperately want for Teller and me. “It’s nice you guys have stayed so close. Do you live in the same city?”

“No, actually. Loraine moved to SoCal, and I’m in upstate New York. But we make a point to see each other once a year.”

I make a mental note to pitch that to Teller. We may have promised to see each other twice next year, but what about all the years after that?

We eat dinner with Nettie and Loraine, which is homemade truffle gnocchi paired with various wines. Even Teller is enjoying himself thoroughly. I didn’t know he was such a fan of wine. By the end of the night, Tipsy Teller has reappeared. He’s animated and wildly competitive, playing Trivial Pursuit against Loraine and Nettie. So far, they’re crushing us, mostly because they’re more familiar with the slightly more dated pop culture. And Teller is pretty useless in that category, aside from music.

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