I snort.

“Now that you have enriched yourself off of our wedding anguish,” Eli says, “let me tell you about our plans. We’ll sail for Greece in two days and stick around till then. The villa is available to all of you through the next week, too, thanks to Tamryn. Stay as long as you like.”

“Through next year,” Tamryn adds with a cheeky smile. “Please, feel free to exercise your squatting rights to their full extent in my late husband’s not-yet-settled real estate portfolio.” Everyone laughs.

“Any other questions?” Eli asks.

I raise my hand.

“Yes, Maya.”

“What about the ball pit we were promised?”

He raises his middle finger at me as he leaves with Rue.

I catch Conor’s eyes as he hands Kaede over to Sul. I smile, and so does he. A new feeling floods me: That he and I are on the same side of an invisible line, and the rest of the world is elsewhere. Our very own Isola Bella. Sandbar accessibility subject to changes in sea levels.

“Honestly?” Nyota says, adjusting to lay her head over my shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“This wedding was a fucking mess.”

“Yup.”

“And I’m no closer to becoming a rich dude’s kept woman.”

“Nope.”

“But, like…it was a good week.”

I close my eyes. Inhale the rose-scent of her hair.

“Yeah. It was.”

In keeping with the rest of the week, the largest freezer in the villa comes to an untimely demise about twenty minutes later.

“Is this connected to the eruption?” I ask when I see Lucrezia’s boys schlepping heavy-looking containers onto the patio.

“I highly doubt it,” Avery says. “I think it’s just…”

“Another turbulent event in a long list of curse-precipitated occurrences?”

“I didn’t wanna put it like that, but I don’t think the Greek goddess of weddings has bestowed her blessing upon us. Anyway, they’re trying to rearrange the frozen foods, but it sounds like sacrifices will have to be made, so if you have any room in your stomach…” She points at four vats full of the gelato that has been garnishing my brioches in the mornings. Clearly, they need eating. Right now.

“What’s that cake over there?” Nyota asks.

“Wild berries and cream and some kind of pistachio filling. It was supposed to be for the rehearsal dinner, but…”

“Does it mean that we can have it?”

“I think it means that we must have it.”

Lucrezia hands us spoons and bowls with the solemn expression of a queen knighting a squire. Eli, Conor, and Minami are on the other side of the patio, laughing so hard, they look seconds away from pissing themselves. It’s a familiar scene, a decade-old memory—the three of them teasing each other and being utter assholes and saying things no one can hope to make sense of, not even Sul. Jokes that are so inside, they sound like insults. But it’s palpable how much they care, even when they’re angry or frustrated or fed up with each other. The way they’ll drop anything, forgive anything, accept anything.