“Then there’s Henry Miller. He lived here for a while and wrote. Writers do sometimes come up here for inspiration, even now.”

“Did you ever?” I ask.

“No. I haven’t been here since I was a kid.”

“Who else?” I ask.

“Let me see. Richard Burton and Liz Taylor were here back in the Sixties. They filmed, what was it called? The Sandpiper.”

“This place is a magnet for—” I want to say lovers, but I quickly change the course. “Famous people.”

“Yeah. Famous people and us,” he says.

“You’re famous.”

“If you say so.”

Before we leave, we stop by the gift shop and although Ethan insists on buying me a small painting I’ve been staring at for ten minutes, called Isle of No Sorrow, which is the exact view we had from our table, I ask him not to. I don’t think he should be buying me gifts and although I would die to have that beautiful canvas, I don’t even have a place of my own to hang it in. And it’s too expensive anyway.

We return late at night, singing along to radio tunes and telling silly jokes all the way.

At one point, Ethan takes a phone call and halfway through, I realize what it is about. Celine’s legal problems with her ex.

“Thank you for calling this late,” Ethan says. “That’s great news,” he says at the end.

“Solved?” I ask, seeing the smile on his face.

“Yes! She’s going to be so happy.”

And I’m happy for her. “Is he a lawyer specialized in divorces?” I ask, thinking of Gaby.

“Yes and a very good one. Why?”

“There’s this nice woman who comes by the café every day. She’s going through an ugly divorce; her husband is trying to take her child away. I was wondering if this lawyer could help.”

He smiles. “Gaby?”

“Yes.”

“Celine told me about it. I already put them in touch and last I heard the lawyer found a loophole that will keep the husband away from her, her daughter and her money.”

“I’m so glad. Please thank him for me,” I say.

We’re back home and after he parks the car, we walk side by side to the front door.

Before we go in, Ethan grabs my arm. “Did anything change?”

I look at him, not knowing what he means.

“Do you still hate me?”

I smile. “You think that will go away with a pretty sunset and a decent dinner?” I say and honestly, I can’t believe those words comes from my mouth. I never thought I had it in me.

“Fair,” he says, and lets go of my arm.

Celine is on the couch when we walk in, watching a series on Netflix and sipping wine.

I stay with them while we tell Celine about our afternoon and evening in Big Sur, before calling it a night. They stay behind and I can’t help but wonder if my name will come up in their conversation and how. Does she find this sudden friendship strange? Does she know anything about Max? I think if she did, she’d force Ethan to tell me what I need to know. I should tell her. If I want to know now, this is the answer. Alright, yes, this might be the answer, but the real question is: do I want to know now?