If she could reverse that one action, everything would be different. She wouldn’t feel trapped in this social group, forced into proximity with the one person she most wanted to avoid. The stress of self-doubt wouldn’t plague her the same way, wouldn’t leave her constantly reconsidering her words or terrified of getting truly close to people. That letter was the first and last time she had said I love you to a man, and deep down, she knew that wasn’t really his fault. When it came to how spectacularly that night exploded in her face, she only had herself to blame.

12. Taormina, Sicily

12

TAORMINA, SICILY

Now

“Will you hand me a mandarin?” Paul asked from his deck lounger, not looking up from his book.

Wordlessly, Alex reached over to the polished silver fruit bowl to her right and grabbed one for him, still holding her own book in her free hand.

“Thanks, queen,” he said, sitting up as he took it.

From under the shade of her wide-brimmed straw hat, sun falling on the rapidly tanning length of her body, it finally felt like vacation. Just her and Paul on the deck, in the gentle rhythm they always assumed on their travels together. Their perfect balance of conversation and silence was something she still hadn’t experienced with anyone else.

Next to her, Paul set down his book and began working on the peel of his mandarin, looking out onto the coastline from behind his sunglasses.

She took the opportunity to speak: “My mom’s texting, she wants to talk to us.”

“What time is it over there?” He popped a slice into his mouth.

“Umm…” She picked up her phone to do the math. “Like 6 AM.”

“Why is she even awake right now?”

Alex pulled her sunglasses slightly down her nose for effect, looking at him over the rims. “Are you kidding?”

“Then let’s call her!” He slid his lounger closer to hers as she dialed the video, chewing rather loudly. “Do I look okay?”

“Your mouth is full of fruit, but—”

“Baby!” Elena beamed from inside the phone, slowing to rest on the garage elliptical machine. “And Paul!”

“I thought I was a baby,” he faux-pouted.

“Hi, Mom.” Alex smiled, sitting up a little straighter in her chair.

“How is my Greek goddess?” Paul asked, taking the phone from Alex’s hand to better see her.

“She’s good.” Elena beamed, gently patting her face dry with a hand towel. “And how is the trip? Have you two been behaving?”

Paul launched into his usual charm offensive, telling her all about the various ports they’d visited and getting up to show her a 360 view from their anchor point just outside of Taormina. The question—had they been behaving—was innocent enough, but it still flushed Alex with heavy memories of the night before.