Page 95 of Harper's Holiday Romance
Billie’s words echoed in my mind. Sarah and Billie spent the night before feeding my mind with scenarios, each a small snippet of a potential reality if I simply stepped off the edge of the cliff into the unknown. It was that simple—according to my best friends.
Let your heart be open to the possibility.
It sounded so easy and free from consequence, except nothing ever was.
“Have dinner with me tonight?” Julia whispered.
“Of course.”
I gulped. It would be the final farewell. The end was near. I felt the shift in energy, and I hoped for a sign. A reason to stay. A reason to leave. A reason to believe. It didn’t matter; I needed something to help me navigate the last few hours in Julia’s presence. Until then I wanted to stay wrapped in her arms beneath the Mexican sun, at distance from the world outside our bubble.
I was in serious trouble.
The elevator took us to the eighth floor and up to the rooftop deck. It was even more stunning in the evening. The whole of the resort shone brightly below. A small group of tables were set for dinner with white linens andsparkling silver cutlery. Each table was complete with a complimentary bottle of champagne in a bucket stand at the side.
There was a musical duo performing on a floating platform in the centre of the infinity pool: a man with his guitar and a woman with her keyboard.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Julia asked.
“Only three times.” I smiled, but my smile was laced with sadness, as I knew it would be. Julia wore a cream waistcoat and a matching pair of trousers.
“I love this look. The whole tailored power suit really works for you.”
“Thank you. I was hoping you’d say that.”
After the starter and our second glass of wine the duo started to sing “Wicked Game”. The polished blend of their voices had everyone listening.
“I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you. And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you.”
The lyrics were painfully accurate.
Julia was acting strange. She couldn’t look at me for too long without averting her gaze. She clasped her hands together on the table, only pulling them apart to reach for her glass of wine at an unusually frequent rate.
Was she nervous?
I listened intently to the music. I felt our connection slipping through my fingertips with every passing second. The distance between us would go from a table length to thousands of miles, and my heart ached at the thought. I would cherish everything about Julia Hanlow, that much I knew. I wanted to tell her how I felt, but my mouth remained tight-lipped as we swayed in our seats to the rhythm of a beautiful song.
The laughter that filled our conversations was diminished now. It felt like we were closing in on a crossroads, rushing headlong towards the point of separation, and I wanted to get off the train. I wanted desperately to pull the emergency brake and come to a grinding halt, but what if she didn’t want the same thing?
What if she was happy to let go. What if she was happy to accept that our story didn’t have a happy ending, that it was just a part of a bigger plan, one single cluster of memories in a treasure trove of a full life.
I wished I had the blueprint. I needed help navigating this stage of my story. I knew the odds were against us, and I proceeded anyway. I dared to believe, but now I felt the weight of that dare.
The emotional pull of a thousand love songs caused my eyes to sting. I had to tell her; there was no other way.
“Harper,”
“Julia,”
We spoke each other’s name in unison.
“You first,” Julia said.
“I’m falling for you. I know that’s crazy. I know it has been such a short period of time, but I can’t shake this feeling. I’m scared, Julia. I’m scared of being vulnerable. I’m scared of losing you even though I don’t even technically have you, and I just can’t imagine not seeing you again. I can’t seem to envision saying goodbye to you tomorrow and waving you off like the past ten days haven’t been the best ten days of my life.” I pressed my mouth flat.
Uh-oh. I’d said too much. The word vomit didn’t stop, and now I’d said too much. Julia was looking at me with—understanding?
Wait. She didn’t speak right away, but she was nodding. She was agreeing, and then her eye’s welled up.Julia Hanlow was so overcome by emotion her eyes were producing tears. I could barely focus on our surroundings, on the singers, on the waiter casually topping up our glasses with wine, and on the couples at either side pretending to go about their romantic dinner and not recognising our struggle. There was a silent perception, a moment of clarity, and I knew in that moment I wanted to be with her.
