Page 98 of The Best Wild Idea
“He’s been in an accident,” I tell the three people gathered behind the counter, forcing a deeply troubled look into my eyes. It helps that I already look like I’ve been crying. One of the staffers is a manager who’s been called over on my insistence. “He’ll be here eventually to sign for it, but you’ll see that it’s my name on the envelope.” I hand them my Massachusetts state driver’s license, hoping they don’t ask to see my passport too, just in case they’re connected to the same system as the airport somehow, which would only add to their budding hesitation.
Reluctantly, and after a bit more arguing, they finally hand it over.
Feeling like a fugitive on the run, I grab my keycard off the counter, along with the last unopened letter before they can change their minds. Then I race off to my suite, glancing over my shoulder like I’ve just managed to rob a bank. Between theforced grounding in Paris, and now this, my heart is pounding, even though I’ve done nothing wrong.
Except trust a man you never should have trusted.
It’s only a matter of time until Silas finds me here. Monica probably already let him know that I asked about the name of the hotel so I could pick up the last letter here without him. When he does arrive, we can have whatever conversation he wants to have so I can get out of here and back to Boston. Even if it means flying separately. Something I’d prefer to do at this point anyway.
I shut the door behind me and push my back against it, slowly sinking onto the cold tile floor.
I’m relieved to be in my own space again, if only for an hour or two before he arrives. I need time to collect my thoughts and wade through everything that’s happened since leaving Nonna Lisi’s cozy stone cottage near the water last night.
Last night.
God, it feels like a lifetime ago.
I force the memory away and hold the envelope out in front of me with both hands, tracing the letters of my name on the front with my finger.
It’s the last one.
My final piece of him. Unread words I have yet to feel before it’s truly over, before I head back home without any more letters to look forward to. I read Grant’s letter from Italy on the flight over here and it nearly broke me in half. It was everything I wanted to hear before last night, which only made me regret reading Silas’ letter even more.
I don’t know whether to rip this one open, or to cherish this bittersweet moment of suspense that I know I’ll never feel again. At least when it comes to him. Tous. Grant always loved to write me letters and little notes, old-fashioned and romantic until the bitter end. I’ve probably held a hundred or so unopenedletters in my hands from him — each providing a moment of anticipation that no phone call or text could ever compare to.
It’s bitter, but not yet sweet, knowing this is the last time I’ll ever hold one again.
I close my eyes, allowing my thoughts to dance with the butterflies now filling my stomach. Even after I retire this final letter to the memory box I have back home filled with all the letters and ticket stubs and programs and photos of us smiling like two people who never knew the end was drawing so near, I know I’ll still think back on this moment.
The moment I had to open it.
The last memory of just him and me.
I hug it to my chest. Wishing it was more than just a piece of parchment filled with words that used to pour from someone who was still very much alive.
Then I trace my name one more time before flipping the envelope over, unsealing it with the swipe of my finger against the sticky strip that held it in place over the past year. Pulling the familiar paper out, I unfold it in front of me, sucking one last breath in before reading my love’s final goodbye.
Chapter 48
Grant
A year ago
Jules,
Welcome to Paris, sweetheart. The birthplace of love, the City of Light. The most romantic setting in the world!
Have you opened your window yet? Monica promised to get you the room with the view of that tiny little tower you always hoped to see one day. The one that’ll sparkle with a thousand lights later tonight once the city has dimmed enough to let her shine. I hope you pop the bottle of champagne I arranged to have delivered to your room so that you can have a celebratory glass before heading out to your reservations inside the tower tonight. And I hope that you wear the gold dress I’m having delivered to your suite when you go. I can see it in my mind, and I already know that the whole effect — you, the glittering tower, the gorgeous dress, the long champagne flute in your hand — it’s all stunning. Imagining it is almost as good as getting to be there with you when it happens.
Almost.
And when you’re sitting in that tower, looking as beautiful as ever, with Silas by your side, I want you to think about what it is that I’m about to tell you. Let it all sink in before you react, or do something rash, because if you still can’t stand him by the time you’re reading this,then what I’m about to say is going to come as a rather unwelcome surprise. Or maybe, by this point, it won’t shock you at all. You might even be happy to hear it and welcome him even more openly than before.
If that’s the case, then I want you to know that it’s okay.
Silas is in love with you, Jules. That man has always tried to hide it from us both, and I want you to know that he never acted on it, or even uttered the words out loud to me. He’s too good of a friend to act on anything like that, but I think you’ve always been his kryptonite, whether he’d ever admit that to anyone or not.
But I know my best friend. And I know that he’s loved you since the first moment that I did too. Ever since you asked for that pen in class and we flipped that stupid coin before I lost and chucked it in the river anyway. You were always his one that got away. If he hasn’t yet told you that, or tried to show you in his own ridiculous Silas type of way, then let me be the one to break the news. I wouldn’t say that it’s my pleasure to do so, but rather, my last, gut-wrenching gift to you.
