Chapter Thirty-Two

· Thirty-Two ·

Will

Sula shuts the door to the Edgy Envelope, flips the sign from Open to Closed , and slumps against the glass, hands raised over her head. “We did it!”

Juliet smiles tiredly from her perch on a stool at the register desk. I stare at her, worried she’s worn herself out, and she must read the concern on my face, because she mouths, I’m okay .

“Bea, Jules, Kate,” Sula says, drawing each of them into gentle side hugs, one after the other, “you were incredible, thank you. William”—she turns toward me, arms open wide—“gimme a hug, you inventory-restocking rock star.”

Sula’s always been nice to me since we met, but definitely not demonstrably affectionate, like the others. I throw Jules a quick surprised glance as Sula tackles me into a hug.

Juliet lifts her eyebrows, smiling wide.

“Thank you,” Sula says, slapping my back. “So much. We could not have done it without you.”

“Happy to help,” I tell her as we step apart. “I’m glad Toni texted me.”

Kate slumps onto the desk. “I’m so hungry. And I only helped half the day. You guys have to be dying.”

“Yep,” Jules tells her. “My stomach is eating itself.”

“Dinner’s two minutes away,” Sula says, eyeing her phone.

Bea lifts her hands in praise. “Thank God. I’m going to eat the shit out of that guacamole.”

The doorbell rings, and I jog toward it, accepting the giant bag of food and handing the delivery person a cash tip.

We tear open our Mexican and all settle in around the front desk, Juliet and Bea on stools, Sula, Kate, and I standing.

“So,” Kate says, crunching on a chip. “Jules was saying your family’s farm is expecting a big tourism boom this weekend?”

“Already ticked up pretty heavily toward the end of the week.” My sisters all reassured me they could handle today without me home, promising to keep me updated via text. It’s mostly been Miranda relaying updates from the others, but it’s helped to hear things have gone well. “Last I heard, they were slammed today, but that’s good for business, so no complaints.”

Sula asks, “So is your farm, where it is upstate, in the path of totality?”

Jules and Bea roll their eyes.

“Not this again,” Kate groans.

“If I had a nickel,” Jules says, “for every time Sula said ‘the path of totality,’ I could retire right now.”

“If I took a shot,” Bea tells her, “every time Sula said ‘the path of totality,’ I’d—”

“Have alcohol poisoning,” Sula grumbles, chucking a chip at Bea’s head. “Yeah, yeah, so sue me, I’m in awe of this rare, incredible natural phenomenon that’s happening in our backyard. I’m so sorry.”

Bea dips the chip Sula tossed at her in guacamole and hands it to Sula, a peace offering. “We’re just teasing, Sul.”

Sula crunches on the chip. Peace offering accepted.

“So, is it?” Jules asks. “Is your land in the you-know-what?”

I grin. “The path of totality?”

Bea, Jules, and Kate throw up their arms, yelling in offense.

Sula smiles up at me. “I love this guy.”

“Yes, it is,” I tell Juliet, eyes down on my food to avoid her gaze.

My plan begins with inviting her up to my home tomorrow, to see the eclipse, get a tour of the place, stay the night. She can meet my parents and sisters and niece and nephew, who’ll be busy enough that they won’t have endless time to grill her and overwhelm her. A solid first introduction.

“I wish I could see it,” Sula says. “But hotels have been booked up for like a year. And you know traffic is going to suck if we were to drive up for the day and try to drive back after.”

Kate nods. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Wait!” Bea says, dropping her chip, dusting off her hands. She pulls out her phone from her skirt pocket. “Jamie’s house, the one his aunt gave him, it’s in your town, too, Will! Illyria, right?”

I nod. “That’s right.”

“There’s plenty of room,” Bea says. “We could all fit. At least, I think we all could. But, I mean, there are couches, air mattresses; we’ll make it work.”

Sula stares at Bea. She looks like she might cry. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

Bea nods excitedly. Sula sets her hands on both sides of her face.

Kate throws back her head and yells, “Road trip!”

—

The sun is the faintest nectarine sliver, curved on the edge of the horizon. Juliet and I hold hands as we sit on what I have been reassured are the now repaired and reinforced swings of the play set straddling her backyard and Petruchio’s, swaying slowly, sipping our to-go coffees. She smiles at me over her coffee cup. I smile back. She drags her tongue against its edge, and I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t look at me like that, not right now.”

She shrugs happily. “Just remembering last night fondly.”

I groan. We were both so exhausted after all day at the Edgy Envelope that we collapsed into her bed and barely managed to make out before we fell asleep. The last thing I remember is Juliet’s bite of my bottom lip, her tongue dragging over it, before I crashed.

I woke up desperate for her, but there was no time—we have a full day ahead of us, and we have to hit the road as soon as possible so we don’t get stuck in the worst of the traffic caused by folks driving to see the eclipse.

I shake my head. “You’re cruel.”

She grins. “I like cuddling and making out with you. Get over it.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, reading the message.

“Christopher’s up?” she asks.

I nod, pocketing my phone. Juliet stands from the swing, leans in, and kisses me softly. “Good luck.”

I watch her walk across the yard, just like I did that first day, up the steps, until she’s inside her parents’ house. And then I get up, too, and walk the length of Petruchio’s house, turning the corner for his porch. Sinking onto his front steps, I text him back, Out front .

For a few minutes, I sit there, elbows on my knees, hands laced together, eyes on the horizon. When I hear the creak of his front door opening, I glance over my shoulder.

Petruchio stands on his threshold in sweatpants and a T-shirt, frowning, looking a bit worried. I texted him an hour ago that I needed to talk, but I didn’t tell him why. I feel bad for making him uneasy, but I couldn’t tell him what I wanted to talk about over text. This is an in-person conversation.

He shuts the door behind him, scrubbing at his hair, which is sticking up every which way, a coffee cup in his other hand. “Want to come in?”

I shrug as I pick up my coffee from the step beside me. “We can talk here. There. Up to you.”

He crosses the porch and lowers onto the steps beside me. “What’s going on?”

I turn my to-go cup in my hands. “I need to talk to you.”

His eyes dance between mine, his frown deepening. “I’m listening.”

“Sorry for the early text, if I woke you up,” I tell him. I sip my coffee and try to steady my racing heart.

“I wasn’t asleep,” he grumbles.

My cheeks heat. “Oh. Uh…sorry for interrupting…that.”

He gives me an arched eyebrow, a hidden smile behind his cup as he sips his coffee. “That’s all right. So…what’s going on?”

I set my coffee beside me on the porch and clasp my hands together, steadying myself. “It’s Juliet.”

He freezes, coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “What about her?”

I peer up at him, holding his eyes, searching them. “I…” My jaw works. I blow out another long breath. And then I tell him everything. How Juliet and I met in Scotland, and again in his backyard, and didn’t exactly become friends so much as romance workout buddies. How, when I wasn’t making the rounds with clients in the city or hanging out with the friend group, these past weekends, Juliet and I were going on practice dates. And then I get to the part that matters most.

“It changed,” I tell him. “Grew. We…It’s not practice anymore. For either of us.”

He stares down at his coffee for a beat, then sips it. “I see.”

My brow furrows. I watch him closely as he sips his coffee again and peers over at me. Is he…smiling?

That’s a good sign, I hope.

“I’m telling you this,” I say to him, “because I know she’s like a sister to you, because you love her like family and you’re protective of her, and she’s told me she had her heart crushed by someone she met through you, and it made things messy for a while. Given all that, I’d understand if you were wary of me…wanting to be with her.”

“Hmm.” He tips his head, his smile still there. “I think…if it were any other person, Orsino, I would be.”

“Yeah?”

His mouth lifts in a faint, knowing smile. “I’ve had a hunch for a while that there might be more going on. And while it might not have taken you long to fall for her, I know you haven’t entered into that feeling lightly, because I know you, friend. I trust you. And I trust Juliet to know her own mind and heart, too.” He brings his coffee to his lips and drains his cup. “You don’t need my stamp of approval, not that I’m even sure you came here for it.”

“I didn’t,” I tell him truthfully. Even if he didn’t understand, the choice to be together or not would be mine and Juliet’s alone. “But it would mean a lot to have it.”

He nods, his eyes holding mine. “Then consider it given. And now,” he says, pushing off the step and standing, “you’ll excuse me. I’ve got a big day ahead of me, an eclipse to see, a rental van to brave with Sula rambling about ‘the path of totality,’ and , most importantly, a very demanding woman hoping I’ll come back upstairs. It’s not in my best interest to keep her waiting.”