It had wandered because this — this table, this laughter, this completely normal day with women complaining about husbands, work schedules and bad hair days — felt so different from the strange, carefully controlled bubble of my life with Sasha.
Which wasn’t a bad life, it could just get … intense.
And Elena, somehow, had slipped through that intensity like a beam of sunlight through a crack in a wall.
She was easy to talk to, warm, but also sharp and hilariously funny without trying. The kind of woman who asked questions and actually listened to the answers. The kind of woman I hadn’t had in my life for a long time.
“You’re quiet,” Elena whispered, elbowing me gently.
I took a sip of wine. “I’m listening.”
“You’re brooding.”
“I donotbrood.” I shot her an incredulous look. “I’m literally the embodiment of positivity.”
Her smile turned teasing. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you but it sure looked like you were brooding.”
“Nah, that’s my boyfriend’s job.”
That got a laugh out of everyone at the table.
“Ohhh!” Sofia wagged her eyebrows. “The mysterious boyfriend.”
Ah yes, the mysterious boyfriend who liked to walk around with a fucking semi-automatic rifle slung over his shoulder.
Elena tilted her head toward me. “How is Mr. Broody?”
“Off brooding somewhere.” I waved a hand around vaguely. “There was some kind of … situation.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“It sounded ominous when he said it, too.”
“And you just let him leave?”
“What was I supposed to do?” I shrugged. “Grab his leg and refuse to let go? Pretty sure it would’ve been interpreted as a security threat.”
This earned another round of laughter.
It was ridiculous how nice it felt to just sit there, talking about nothing important, letting the world exist outside of Sasha’s orbit for a couple of hours. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed a female presence in my life until Elena showed up in a grocery store and started judging my produce.
Even after the plates had been cleared away, we lingered, drifting from gossip to stories to ridiculous debatesabout which beach had the best view of the ocean. The whole time, I couldn’t shake off the same strange thought.
I hadn’t had real friends in years. Women who interrupted me mid-sentence, stole fries off my plate, rolled their eyes at my stories, and invited me into their lives without asking me to shrink myself down first.
The realization still felt fragile in my chest, like something I was a little afraid to hold too tightly in case it vanished.
Eventually we said our goodbyes, hugging in the warm golden light of the late afternoon before I made my way back to the car. I was still basking in the afterglow on the drive up to the villa.
Elena had squeezed my arm when we said goodbye outside the restaurant; her dark hair shining in the sunlight. “Same time next week?”
“Absolutely.” I’d given her a huge, genuine smile.
Because somewhere between avocado advice and wine refills and comparing the weird, brooding habits of our respective men, Elena had wormed her way into my heart.
The drive up the hill towards the villa had become familiar by now; the narrow road wound through lush greenery before finally opening onto the cliffside view that still took my breath away every time.
The driver cleared his throat politely. “We’re here.”