Page 137 of Better Than Gelato
“The airport Marriott.”
He hails a cab, tells the driver my hotel and pays.
“You didn’t need to pay for my cab,” I tell him. The insecure part of me wants to tell him how much money I make now, but I don’t.
“It’s my pleasure.” I lean in to kiss his cheek, and he pulls me into a hug. Muscle memory kicks in, and I melt against him. It feels so good tears well up in my eyes. We stand there, getting soaked by the rain, neither one letting go. Finally, I take a step back.
“It was so great to see you,” Jake says.
“Yeah! Totally. Always good to catch up with an old friend.” My voice is over the top casual. Jake looks like he wants to say something else, but I pretend I don’t notice and jump in the cab. I give my best happiest smile and wave as we pull away from the curb.
Adrenaline courses through me, and my breath comes out ragged. I squeeze my hands into fists and then rub them into my eyes. Then I whip out my phone and text Paolo.
He’s dating someone.
I don’t elaborate. Paolo will know it’s Jake. Just like he knew I would call him.
His text comes in when I’m back at the hotel crawling into bed.
I didn’t think that would make a difference.
And it shouldn’t. It was dinner with an old friend. No big deal. So why do I feel like such a mess?
* * *
I don’t sleep well. I stare at the ceiling. I curse Paolo for giving me Jake’s number. I curse myself for calling. I curse Jake for answering.
Being with him has stirred up all the things I’ve been so careful to leave undisturbed. And now I have to face the truth. That Jake is every bit as wonderful as I remember. And being with him feels just as good as I remember. And being without him feels just as terrible as I remember.
Around 4 a.m., I give up on sleep. I shower and stand under the hot water for a long time. When my skin has turned a scalded pink I get out and get dressed. I wear my traveling clothes. Black wrap dress, black sandals, black sweater. It’s early, the sky’s just barely turning pink, and we don’t need to be at the airport for another hour, but I can’t keep staring at the same four walls. I check that I have everything from my room, then wheel my carry-on downstairs to the lobby. My phone’s dead, and I look for a place to charge it while I wait for Henry.
That’s when I see Jake.
He’s asleep in a red armchair by the door. His head’s bent at a funny angle, and his brown hair has fallen into his eyes. My heart is pounding, and I’m not sure what to do.
“Jake?” I put a hand to his shoulder, and his head snaps up.
“Juliet!”
“What are you doing here?”
He rubs his eyes and then blinks at me.
“I wanted to see you again. I called but you didn’t pick up.”
“My phone died.”
“I didn’t know what time your flight left, but I knew it was early, and I didn’t want to miss you, so I just came here and waited.”
“You never went home last night?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t want to miss this chance…” He glances at a businessman giving us a curious look, then takes my arm and leads me to a couch farther away.
“I’ve thought about you a lot, Juls. Even when I tried not to. I told myself that I’d embellished what we had. That Italy made things seem special, even when they were ordinary. But seeing you last night. Walking the city together. I know I’ve been lying to myself. It wasn’t Italy. It was you. My memories of you are not embellished. In fact, they don’t do you justice. Being with you is even better than I remember.”
I try to take this all in and make sense of his words.
“You’re dating someone,” I say.
