M

Two years, two months, and two days after Mira and Jake's twenty-four hours in Paris (not that Mira's counting . . .)

The Night Before

Mira soaked in the sunset from a sprawling villa terrace serving up European ambience to the max: stone tiles, rustic outdoor furniture, an archway of overgrown wildflowers . . . the works.

Streaks of orange sun disappeared behind the terra-cotta rooftops of Greve, a Tuscan town a twenty-minute walk from the villa. The rolling hills of Chianti formed the horizon beyond it, a gorgeous backdrop she still hadn't gotten used to, despite having marked her sixth month of living in Tuscany.

There was also nostalgia floating in her midst, her mind drifting off to a different sunset from a whole other time and place.

Pont des Arts.

It had been so long since Paris that no one would have blamed her for forgetting. Only, to forget would be an impossible task, given the agenda for the upcoming weekend.

Mira took a long breath and glanced at her watch. "Shit."

She hurried to the swimming pool on the other side of the wraparound terrace, a strip of turquoise heaven on a hilltop.

As the pool came into view, Mira found her college bestie, Sophie, stretched out on a lounge chair. Of course. Not that she could blame Sophie for enjoying every minute of the late-summer Tuscan weather—a delicate dance of warming sun and cooling breezes brought on by the start of September.

Mira approached. Tapped her foot. Cleared her throat. But Sophie made no move, opting to remain a fashionable statue in repose, clad in a patterned one-piece swimsuit, with thick brown curls forming a crown around her head.

Mira hovered over her now. "It's not sunny anymore."

"I'm enjoying the onset of dusk." Sophie lowered her sunglasses. "You look gorgeous in this light, by the way." She grinned. "Magic hour."

Mira found herself appraising both her appearance—tanned arms, longer hair—and the overall sense of feeling much more alive in Italy.

As long as it didn't end.

She felt it immediately. The unnerving stress of time passing by in a blur. In two months she would be leaving Italy, but was no closer to knowing what to do with her life than she'd been on the day she arrived. She replaced the fear with a focus on the present moment—which in this case included the present-moment risk of messing up her orderly schedule. "We're leaving for Florence and you haven't changed or packed?"

"I packed before I came out here." She sighed. "So how about you let me change a little later, hmm?"

"I made a dinner reservation. Or did you forget that after the third Aperol spritz?"

Sophie hopped up. "Five minutes.

***

After leaving their bags at a B&B in the heart of Florence, the driver dropped off Mira and Sophie at Parco di Piazza dei Ciompi, a cross between a tiny park and a piazza in a low-key section of Florence's Santa Croce quarter. It wasn't the postcard aesthetic that made the Renaissance city famous as a tourist spot, but it was the neighborhood with Mira's favorite osteria.

Mira approached the open driver-side window. "Grazie mille, Marco," she cooed, before leaning in and giving the white-haired man a quick peck.

He blushed and managed a wave before driving off.

Sophie shook her head. "Flirting with the dad; that's messed up, Mira."

"I was being nice! And it's not like Lorenzo and I are officially boyfriend and girlfriend."

At least, I don't think so.

Mira stole a moment to play back one of those summer nights with Lorenzo. His tanned skin against the moonlight. That lock of blond hair falling over one eye. It was hard not to love Italy with memories like that, but her Year of Yes was getting swallowed up by the predictable story line of American woman falls for Italian man on her journey of self-discovery.

"Stop fantasizing," Sophie said.

"I wasn't."

"Where is vineyard boy anyway? I thought he'd be driving us."

"He and his crates of wine arrived in Amalfi yesterday."

"Makes sense. I wouldn't want my wine to be late for the wedding."

"And I don't want us to be late for dinner." She pulled Sophie by the arm. "Come on!"

***

Unlike in New York, it wasn't essential to make dinner reservations in Florence, but if you'd gotten attached to a place and found your way into the owner's good graces, you could unofficially book the best terrace table. Which was exactly what Mira had done.

As people passed by on the quiet side street, Mira watched Sophie take another bite of her pasta. And swoon.

"Good, huh?" Mira said.

Sophie wiped the edges of her mouth with a napkin. "I always assumed it was a sin to add truffles to cacio e pepe."

"It is if you're in Rome, but this is Florence, land of the Renaissance." She gestured to the charming stretch of buildings across the way. "Inspired thinking, new ideas—and even the chef's nonna loves the dish."

Since arriving in Tuscany, Mira had taken in the sights and enjoyed the classic eats, but after her fill of basil pesto and sampling countless flavors of gelato (Florence being the birthplace of the modern iteration, after all), she'd been eager to try new things. She took a bite of her creamy vegetarian carbonara, zucchini taking the place of guanciale in this version. A revelation.

With a few more bites and several long sighs, Mira and Sophie sipped their prosecco and settled into that full belly feeling. A few minutes passed without a word, that comfortable silence of being in the company of the dearest of friends. It had been like this from the moment Sophie had arrived in Florence, her first solo getaway since becoming a mom two years earlier.

"Are you nervous about seeing Jake?"

The only problem with the dearest of friends was how they'd never let you hide in the corners of denial.

Mira let out a long breath. "Yes. Which is annoying, by the way."

"I can imagine."

She leaned back in her chair. "When did Jake and Dembe even become friends?"

"Beats me."

As a courtesy, Dembe had informed Mira he'd invited Jake to part two of his and Eloise's wedding—the destination portion after the formal Nigerian ceremony in England. She hadn't asked him why Jake had scored an invitation, but at the time hadn't been worried. He wouldn't come all the way to Amalfi to attend. She'd been wrong, and only recently learned that Jake and Dembe were a lot closer than Eloise had previously let on.

"I'm not surprised they're friends," Sophie mused.

"Why? You've never met either of them."

"True, but from everything I've heard about Jake, he's always seemed like a charming guy who can't help but make friends." She studied Mira's expression. "The kind of guy who leaves a mark."

"He is. Which is also annoying." The beautiful surroundings of the glowing terrace couldn't stop the flurry of nerves from gathering in Mira's stomach. If it was this bad now, she couldn't imagine what it would be like to see him again after two years apart. She racked her brain for a way to switch gears but wound up sliding even farther down the road to hell. "And she might show up too."

"The girlfriend? But you said he didn't RSVP for a plus one."

"That was almost two months ago. A lot could've changed since then."

Sophie pulled out her phone and scrolled. "I don't even think they're together anymore."

"Based on what?"

"He hasn't posted a picture of her in forever. There's only one from last year when they went Instagram official."

Mira threw her hands up in the air. "That's all the proof you need!"

The road to unhinged hell.

Sophie looked up from her phone. "You lost me."

"Last year, Jake went so far as to anoint his typical man account with a photo of the two of them. A big declaration for his boring feed. And big declarations are timeless. Like tiramisu. And horoscopes."

"Okay, not sure how those two things are related—" Sophie rubbed the corners of her eyes. "And sorry, what do you mean by typical man account?"

"You know." Mira waved her hand. "The way most heterosexual men without kids use their Instagram." Sophie remained cofounded. But that was okay. Mira had the unhinged clarity to help her out. "Typical man accounts barely post at all. And when they do it's like a hiking trail or a lake. Oh wow, you vibe with nature. Groundbreaking."

Sophie snorted. "Oh my god, they kind of are like that."

"And god forbid they ever photograph a meal to kindly inform us about a cool new establishment." She sneered. "Guess we don't deserve your fancy restaurant recos."

"Jerks."

"And I love how they post so infrequently, as if at any moment they might leave social media altogether. Like go ahead and deactivate, we'll live." Sophie burst into laughter. "And meanwhile they're out here creeping my Insta stories daily!"

"One of my exes from high school still creeps all my stories too. Like why are you here? I have a kid now."

"Right?" Mira slugged back some prosecco. "Who are you fooling? I can literally see you."

"Or . . . maybe they're glad we can see them." Sophie's eyes widened. "Maybe they like that they're living in our heads rent free."

Mira sank into her chair. "Whoa."

With a sudden urgency, Sophie gestured for the waiter's attention. "More prosecco, per favore."

"My point is—" Mira squinted. "Did I have a point? Oh right. I've seen Jake view my Instagram stories, so I know he goes online a lot, which means if he wasn't with his girlfriend anymore, he could have easily deleted that pic." She let out a groan. "See? This is what annoys me."

"How much you still care?"

She pouted. "Yes."

"You're only human."

"What a flaw, huh? The sex robots are laughing."

"Mira—"

"Anyway, we haven't been in touch for over a year, and I haven't physically seen him in two, so why should any of this matter?"

"It doesn't have to. Lorenzo will be there too, remember? Focus on him and you'll be fine."

"Lorenzo. Right." Mira felt her mind freaking out in a whole new way. Why was the prosecco taking so long?

"He's your perfect chance to leave Jake in the past and focus on the future."

"Future?"

Sophie squeezed her shoulder. "You all right there, Mira? You're looking a little queasy."

"I'm fine."

"You're about to hurl because I mentioned a future with Lorenzo."

Mira was annoyed the prosecco hadn't dulled Sophie's insights. There was no escape. "Lorenzo and I don't exactly have a soulful connection."

"So what?"

"So, nothing."

"You don't need a soulful connection to have an amazing time with someone and realize, hmm . . . maybe I'd like to keep having this amazing time, maybe for the rest of my life."

The candle between them flickered as a breeze filtered through the terrace. Eerie. "I know that."

"So how can you sit there acting like a sexy Italian husband and a life picking grapes in Tuscany wouldn't be a wonderful thing?"

Mira studied her dearest friend turned devil's advocate with something between deep affection and disdain. "That's not the point."

Sophie propped her elbows on the table. "Then enlighten me."

"I didn't come here for a love affair. I came here to slow down time and experience everything. And while a summer fling's been nice, it's taken over more than it should have." The existential stress she'd been pushing down kicked back up. "I've fallen off on my Italian lessons, I haven't been writing about my time here lately—which, by the way, felt great when I was in the zone—and I keep rescheduling my cannoli making classes." She slumped in her chair. "I want my certificate on how to make one of Italy's finest treats, dammit!"

Sophie laughed. "And what part of that is Lorenzo's fault?"

"None of it. He's been great. It's me who's been choosing sex over personal goals. Like an animal." The prosecco arrived in the nick of time. Mira took a big swig. "If I chalk it up to the hot summer hormones, maybe I'll be able to refocus when the weather cools down."

"Sure. Because no one has sex when it's cold out."

"Make fun, but I have to find a way. Because I can't simultaneously fall in love and figure out my life."

"Or you can't fall in love while someone in your family is sick?"

Mira's expression darkened. Jake. "That was different."

"Maybe. Or maybe you can't choose when or where you'll fall in love."

Mira thought back to that day in Paris. Not that it was love. Barely a beginning. "It is hard to plan it out."

"Why would you want to?"

"For scheduling purposes?"

"I don't think so, Mira. I think love is supposed to disrupt your whole life. How else would it take your breath away?"

With no clever response at hand, Mira said nothing at all. They sipped their drinks in silence, watching as the occasional couple passed by.

"It doesn't have to be all bad," Sophie finally said.

"Hmm?"

"The mind trap of being so consumed by someone else."

Mira scrunched her nose. "When you describe it like that, it sounds horrible."

"It didn't sound like it was horrible with Jake. Didn't you use the word exhilarating at one point?"

"Throwing my adjectives back in my face?" Mira shook her head. "Rude. But thanks for using the past tense, at least."

"Based on the way you've been acting tonight I might switch it to present tense."

She sighed. "But where would that even get me? I don't see the point of this emotional torment if he's with someone else and half a world away."

Sophie pointed a finger at Mira's face. "Possibly with someone else. And soon he'll be right in front of you." She rested both hands under her chin. "Now whether that's emotional torment or feeling more alive than you've ever felt . . . that's up to you."

"I thought you were team Lorenzo."

"I am famously two-faced."

"And are both of those faces drunk?"

"Yes."

They burst into laughter.

Mira finished up her drink. "Let's get dessert."

***

Mira and Sophie stepped into tiny gelato shop across from the famous Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, twenty flavors laid out like a rainbow of jewels behind the gleaming glass display case.

"Are you sure you're not sick of gelato by now?" Sophie asked.

"I'm always up for a new combination." Mira scanned the options then gasped at the unexpected sight. "Cinnamon? Custard? I've never tried either of those. Sold!"

With fresh gelato in hand, they sauntered out to the crowded piazza, taking in the buzzing energy and balmy air.

"This may be my favorite combo yet," Mira said. "And I've had like, a hundred."

Sophie tried a heaping scoop of her passion fruit and stracciatella pairing. "I want to be buried in gelato."

"That can be arranged."

Mira led Sophie toward the cathedral, taking in the hues of light-colored marble framed in black geometric outlines, not to mention the largest brick dome in the world. In the glow of yellow streetlamps, the cathedral took on a haunting quality, one that Mira found herself drawn to. Ignoring the chain-link barrier, she plopped down on the cathedral's third step and gestured to Sophie. "Join me."

From their makeshift perch, they enjoyed their gelato with a captivating people-watching view.

It seemed the perfect end to a perfect night, but naturally, it brought on thoughts of what was to come. Luckily, it was Sophie's turn for sharing.

"Do you miss Charlie?" Mira asked.

"Of course," Sophie said, a little too forcefully. "All mothers feel distraught when they leave their children."

"You're allowed to enjoy a break, you know."

Without warning, Sophie squeezed Mira into a hug. "Thank god! I thought you were going to think I was an awful person for enjoying every minute of this ten-day break. I love him and all, but it's his terrible twos! He's a fucking monster!"

"The meltdown videos you sent me were definitely a little jarring."

"Seriously, who screams that much because of a new pair of socks?"

"Little jerk."

Sophie nearly choked on her bite of gelato. "Mira!"

Mira clapped her on the back. "You all right there, bud?"

Sophie locked eyes with Mira, her expression suddenly serious. "I do love being a mom, though, you know that, right?"

"I know you do. And I'm in awe of you. All the time."

Sophie slurped the rest of the gelato straight from the cup, a clear sign that she was buzzed. "You don't have to say that," she finally said. "I'm not the first person to ever be a mom."

"No," Mira said, giving her a nudge, "but you're my first best friend to ever be a mom."

Sophie narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying there are other best friends?"

"Hey, I'm being serious." Mira draped an arm over Sophie's shoulders. "I'm in awe of you. The you that's always been there for me since college. The you that doesn't take BS, loves with her whole heart, and is loyal as fuck. And, if all of that wasn't enough, the you that's a mom to a whole-ass human. How do you do all of that?"

Sophie wiped back a tear. "It helps that you're not a high-maintenance friend."

Mira thought back to all those tearful phone calls about Jake. Not high maintenance? Not a chance. "You're being generous, but my point is . . . me, your husband, that two-year-old poop machine, we're really, really lucky to have you."

Sophie choked back a sob. "Stop! You're making me cry!"

"I'd say you've sailed past crying and right into blubbering. Which is embarrassing." Mira pulled away. "For you, I mean."

Sophie nearly shoved Mira off the steps. "You're lucky I love you!"

"I know! That was the thesis of my whole damn speech!"

Sophie laughed through the tears. "Can we go back to talking about Jake now?"

Mira shuddered. "Absolutely not. Besides, all of that is future Mira's problem." She held out her hand. "And current me thinks we should enjoy the now."

With Sophie's hand now in hers, Mira pulled her up off the steps. Soon they were dancing under the glow of yellow streetlamps, like they'd somehow planned it all along.

"To the now!" Sophie cried.

To the now.