Page 56 of The Best Wild Idea
His eyes dim, but the smile doesn’t leave his face. “Great question,” he remarks, adding another splash of wine to my glass. This one is from the third carafe out of the six we have lining the table. We’re having a self-selected wine tasting, I suppose.
“Have you been with anyone long-term? Ever?” I ask, trying another sip. It’s more delicious than the last.
“Here and there,” he answers. “Nothing like you and Grant had, but I’ve committed to a few women over the years.”
I nod, suddenly struck by two things: one, I never knew that, and two, I wouldn’t have guessed from what I’ve seen of him in the news. I feel a slight pang of regret at the distance we’ve allowed to grow between us.
“Were any of them special?”
New emotion flashes in his eyes.
“Not really,” he answers. “The last woman broke up with me because I wouldn’t stop talking about you in my sleep.”
At first, I think he’s kidding. I widen my eyes then burst into laughter when I realize he’s not. “Why would you be doing that?”
“I had a lot of anxiety about our upcoming trip, I guess,” he says, now laughing too.
“Do I want to know what was happening in your dream?” I’m a little afraid to know how his subconscious mind might paint me.
“Let’s just say this reoccurring dream always ended with you shoving me out of a plane door, or off a cliff or something, so I’d wake up yelling out your name.”
I gape at him, unable to wipe a ghastly wide-mouth grin from my face.
“That’s awful! I’m so sorry!”
He laughs and tips his glass toward me. “It’s not like you had anything to do with it, right?”
“But still, I’ve been giving you nightmares for a year, so much so that your girlfriend broke up with you? Did she know that the dream was actually about me being awful?”
“Raven never believed my explanation. She had her own ideas about what it meant.” He shrugs and smiles.
I look away, embarrassed that I’ve caused so much havoc in his life without even knowing about it.
“Well, I’m sorry just the same.” I scrunch my nose. “I can’t believe she broke up with you over that. Or that you’ve known about this trip for the past year while I only found out about it a few days ago. No wonder you had anxiety about it. The last time I saw you . . .” I trail off, remembering the way he’d shown up on my doorstep looking like he had so much to say, but filled the awkward silence instead with comments about flowers and being exhausted and offering money. I cringe at the memory. I don’t think he knew what to do with himself that night, either.“I can understand why your dream entailed me pushing you off high places.”
He nods, remembering too. “I should apologize for what I said that night. I was trying to make good on the promises I made, but nothing was coming out right. My timing couldn’t have been worse. I was trying to run back to the car when you opened the door because I already knew what a horrible idea it was.”
I blow a stream of air out the side of my mouth.
“I was pretty awful to you,” I admit.
“And what I said was . . .” He pauses, thinking through his words. “Well, I had told Grant I’d be there for you, but obviously how it came out was all wrong.”
We smile sadly at each other. We both have things we regret.
“God, grief can really fuck with a person, right?” I ask, and although it’s not an excuse for either of us, it’s the truth.
“You have no idea,” he says.
“Actually, I think I’m starting to,” I admit.
He nods, and this time, when our eyes meet, I see nothing but the friend he once was staring back at me. Full of compassion, understanding, and most of all, a second chance at making everything right between us.
Chapter 24
We’ve been racing through the Spanish countryside toward the bay in a blacked-out Bentley limousine for over an hour to get from Seville, where we landed ol’ Gloria, to the coastal town of Cádiz. The views out my window have been incredible the whole way, but now, as the deep blue of the bay comes into view, I find myself gasping out the window, speechless in the most wonderful way.
If someone had asked me a few days ago, I’d have sworn that nothing could beat Switzerland’s majestic skyline of snow-capped mountain peaks and crystal-clear alpine lakes. However, the medieval architecture of this once tiny village set against the glowing turquoise Bay of Cádiz might tie it.
