Chapter 17
Hannah
As we make our way down to the harbor, I feel at peace in the company of my two best friends, surrounded by such incredible natural beauty. Frankly, it also helps that more than five thousand miles and an entire ocean separate me from Grady and my mother, and I’m in a place with zero memories shared with either of them. It occurs to me, not for the first time since our flight took off yesterday, that Grady had never expressed any real desire to travel beyond his mainstays of St. Bart’s, Aspen, and Nantucket—the favored destinations among my old circles. Now that I’m no longer tied to him, I will inevitably get to see more of the world. It’s a silver lining.
In a recent text, Olivia asked how we chose Italy. It led to a conversation about travel—and a lot of the places she’s been—and I found myself perusing her Instagram. She isn’t a prolific poster, but I’ve gleaned quite a bit about her. I know she has a bleeding heart, especially when it comes to animals. I know she loves sports, and her teams are the Astros, the Cowboys, and, of course, the Texas Longhorns. She’s obsessed with music of seemingly all genres and loves going to concerts. She seems to spend as much time as she can outdoors—biking and hiking and even fishing.
One thing I can’t discern from her social media is her relationship status, past or present. My guess is that she is one of those people who scrubs her page after a breakup, and I decide that I will do the same as soon as I can stomach looking at Grady’s face long enough to delete old posts. Incredibly, I feel like I’m getting there.
We are now having lunch at a restaurant down by the water. As Tyson looks out over the sea, I notice a wistful expression on his face. I wonder if he’s thinking about Summer. I glance away, hit by a wave of intense sadness. It suddenly doesn’t feel right to avoid the pain. For any of us. I look back at Tyson and decide to push him to tell Lainey what I already know about their relationship. It feels like the right moment—or at least it feels like the wrong moment not to tell her.
Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t go well, and Tyson gets upset. Once again, my instincts have proven wrong.
My stomach in knots, I head to the restroom, hoping the tension will dissipate by the time I return to the table.
On my way back, I stall, lingering by the bar and checking my phone. There are several new texts from Olivia, including a funny anecdote about her coach. Smiling, I start to type a reply, then feel someone hovering nearby.
I look up and find myself face-to-face with the Jude Law doppelgänger. With wavy blond hair, glacier-blue eyes, and golden skin, he’s even more striking up close.
“Hello,” he says, smiling at me.
Flustered, I smile back, glad that I touched up my makeup in the bathroom. “Hello.”
“How was your lunch?” he asks. I can’t place his accent but hear a lilt that sounds Australian, South African, or maybe Irish.
“Delicious,” I say. “Yours?”
“Excellent,” he says.
We grin at each other for a few more seconds, until I do a quick glance over at Tyson and Lainey.
He follows my gaze, then says, “I’m sorry. Do you need to get back to your friend? Boyfriend? Husband?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Both of my friends are fine.”
“In that case,” he says, taking a step closer to me, “I’m Archie.”
“Oh, my goodness! I had a cat named Archie when I was little!” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
“You better keep that info under wraps,” he says. “Someone could steal your identity with that sort of ‘childhood pet’ intel.”
“That’s true,” I say, giggling. “That is a common security question.”
He grins and says, “Wait. By any chance, is your name Biscuit?”
“No. It’s Hannah,” I say, laughing. “Biscuit was your childhood pet?”
“No,” he says. “You just look like a Biscuit.”
I laugh harder. “Why, thank you for such a kind compliment!”
Archie smiles, then asks if I’m from the States.
I nod and say, “Yes. Atlanta, Georgia.”
“Where Donald Trump got arrested?”
“Ugh. Sadly, yes,” I say, embarrassed that my home state is known for an election shitstorm. “What about you?”
“Have a guess.”
“Ireland?”
“Close. They’re our Celtic neighbors.”
“Oh! Scotland?”
He nods.
“Whereabouts in Scotland?” I ask.
“Aberdeen,” he says. “It’s north of St. Andrews and east of Balmoral. On the coast.”
“How close to Balmoral?” I ask, wondering if he’s ever seen the royal family traipsing around the castle.
“Not far. About an hour. And no, I never saw the queen, God rest her soul. Or the king. Long may he reign.”
I laugh. “How’d you know I was going to ask that?”
“Because you’re American,” he says, smiling. “Americans love the royals.”
“So? Have you seen any of them?”
“I once saw Princess Anne whilst tractor shopping.”
“You were tractor shopping? Or she was?”
“She was! Pure dead brilliant lady.”
“She does seem really cool,” I say, thinking of how she rode horseback, in full military regalia, to both her mother’s funeral and her brother’s coronation. “So are you here with friends?”
He nods. “Yes. I’m here with my good mate Ian, but he’s absolutely stocious at the moment—”
“Stocious?”
“Minced. Pished. Sloshed.” He grins, gesturing toward his beer. “Currently sleeping it off back at our hotel.”
“Ahh,” I say, smiling. “That’s unfortunate.”
“And why’s that?” he asks.
“Because my friend Lainey might want to meet him,” I say with a slight head tilt and strategic smile. My flirting skills are rusty, but not nonexistent.
He smiles back at me, then asks what we’re doing this evening.
“No plans yet,” I say. “You?”
“We’re going to Lanterna Verde. A piano bar up in Anacapri. You and your friends should come.”
“Maybe we will.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll let you get back to them,” he says.
I nod. “Yes. I better do that.”
“In case you can’t make it tonight, here’s my number,” he says, handing me a business card. “I’d love to see you again.”
I take it and smile, feeling a rush. “Me too,” I say.
“Go, Hannah!” Lainey says when I get back to the table. “Give us the scoop!”
“There’s really no scoop,” I say with a shrug.
“What’s his story?”
“His name is Archie. And he’s Scottish.”
“Well, that’s adorable. Does he own a kilt?”
“Darn it,” I say, snapping my fingers. “I forgot to ask. Maybe we’ll find out tonight.”
“What’s happening tonight?” she asks, while Tyson stares off in the distance.
“He suggested we meet up. He’s here with a friend.”
“I didn’t see a friend,” Lainey says. “Wasn’t he eating alone?”
“The friend is hungover,” I say. “Back at their hotel.”
“Oh, so he’s fun!” Lainey says, rubbing her palms together.
“Or maybe he’s just an alcoholic,” Tyson mutters.
Lainey ignores him and announces that she’s proud of me.
“For what?” I ask.
“For getting back on your horse!”
“Well, I’m not sure about any horse.” I smile. “But it did feel good to flirt a bit.”
“So. What else did he tell you about his friend? Is he hot, too?” Lainey asks.
“Shoot.” I snap my fingers. “Didn’t ask that, either.”
“My prediction?” Lainey says.
“What’s that?” I ask, already amused.
She puts both thumbs down, shakes her head, and says, “A guy that fine always has a sloppy sidekick.”
I laugh, picturing Zach Galifianakis in the Hangover movies. “But they’re usually funny.”
“Good point,” Lainey says. “And besides, I can work with just about anything.”
After lunch, the sky turns cloudy, and nobody is in the mood for the beach. Lainey insists on a taxi back to the hotel, and this time, Tyson doesn’t balk. He is quiet on the ride home, and the second we walk in the room, he changes into workout clothes.
“Where are you going?” I ask him.
“For a run,” he says.
“Where?” I ask, thinking that Capri’s hilly terrain and narrow roadways aren’t well suited for running.
“Gym treadmill,” he says, putting his AirPods in his ears, then looking down at his phone.
“Okay. Have a good workout,” I say.
He nods and says thanks, walking out the door.
I look at Lainey, then grimace. “I think he’s upset with me.”
“Why would he be upset with you?”
“For forcing his hand. About Summer,” I say, as we both sit on the bed.
“As you should have. He should have told us his secret a long time ago. And you both should have told me in Dallas.”
I look away, thinking of another secret I’ve been keeping from her.
Lainey sighs and says, “I feel so sad for him. It’s hard enough to lose a friend….”
“I know.” I clear my throat. “And I can’t help but wonder if that’s why he broke up with Nicole. Maybe he compares everyone to Summer. Maybe he feels that nobody can measure up—not only to Summer but to the unfulfilled potential of their relationship.”
“That’s really sad,” Lainey says.
I nod.
“What do you think would have happened with them?” she asks.
“I don’t know. But they could be married with kids by now….”
“Wow,” she says. “Can you imagine?”
“Then again,” I say, thinking about the conversation Tyson and I had at the pool in Dallas. “It could have been a disaster. They could have broken up on bad terms. We might have had to pick sides.”
“As if you’d ever pick a side,” Lainey says with a friendly eye roll. “Ms. Switzerland.”
I smile and shrug.
“Maybe you should talk to Tyson,” Lainey says. “About all of this.”
“And say what?”
“I don’t know. Something about not comparing other women to Summer? Or at least giving them more of a chance?”
I nod, then lean my head back on my pillow, thinking.
Lainey’s in the shower when Tyson finally gets back to the room. I give him a hug. His clothes are damp with sweat, but I don’t care.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what?” he says without hugging me back.
“For what you lost. With Summer. I feel like I didn’t say enough when you told me in Dallas,” I say, releasing him as I look up into his eyes.
He stiffens. “You were fine,” he says. “I’m sure it was surprising.”
“Still, I wish I had said more…. And I’m sorry for earlier, too. I should have let you tell Lainey on your own terms.”
“It’s okay. It’s better that it’s out,” he says, glancing past me. “Where is your girl, anyway?”
“She’s in the shower,” I say, then ask if we can talk for a second.
“Sure,” he says, nodding.
After we walk out onto the balcony and sit down, I cut right to the chase. “Do you think that what happened between you and Summer is holding you back?”
He freezes for several seconds, then says, “What do you mean?”
“I mean—with other women? With Nicole?”
“Oh, shit,” he says. “You’re really going in now.”
“I have to,” I say. “I care about you.”
He lets out a long sigh, then says, “Maybe. A little. I still feel so guilty.”
“Guilty for what?”
“That I didn’t protect her.”
“You had no way of protecting her,” I say, thinking about the phone call I didn’t make sooner. “There’s no way anyone could have known what was coming.”
He nods. “I know that. Rationally. But it’s still hard…. I was right there in her room…. I almost stayed over. Fuck. If I had just stayed with her.”
“You can’t think like that,” I say.
“It’s impossible not to—”
“I know—”
“And a small part of me wonders if Summer felt…I don’t know…that I didn’t have her back.”
“That’s crazy talk,” I say. “You always had her back. You were her number one supporter.”
“Yeah. In some ways…And I know I was a good friend…. But I feel like I would have disappointed her.”
“How?”
“It’s hard to explain…. The road we were on was just…complicated…. I was attracted to her—and of course I loved her—but deep down, I think she wanted more from me than I might have been able to give her. It’s almost like I feel guilty for something that never even happened.”
I nod, trying to process what he’s telling me. “Wait. Are you talking about a breakup?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Oh,” I say, things shifting around in my mind. “So you think you may have broken her heart?”
“Yes. I worry that I would have,” he says again. “And I can’t bear the thought of it.”
“Oh, Tyson,” I say.
He hesitates, then tells me about an argument they had a couple of days before she died. Summer had been upset that Tyson and I had gone to the mall without asking her to join us. She’d even gone so far as to ask Tyson if he’d ever kissed me.
I look at him, shocked. It doesn’t sound like Summer at all.
“You told her no, right?”
“Of course I did. But the whole thing just confused me. It made me feel like we shouldn’t have crossed that line. I regretted kissing her. At the same time, I wanted to kiss her again…. Either way, I was scared that I was going to mess up not only my relationship with her but the friendship of all four of us.”
“That didn’t happen, though,” I say.
“I know that,” he says, nodding. “But, Hannah, don’t you see?”
“See what?”
“What did happen was way worse.”
“Meaning you’ll never know what could have been?” I ask him.
Tyson gives me an incredulous look, then shakes his head. “Meaning she died, Hannah. I mean, who the fuck cares what would have happened between the two of us? Even if we’d had an ugly breakup—and it blew up our friendship—she’d still be here. I was worried about the wrong things.”
I lower my eyes and nod.