Our Secret Summer(65)

I wonder where he’ll be then, in ten years, if he’ll eventually marry or keep his sole focus on work. I don’t want to think of him with another woman.

“Did you finish your calls?” I ask him as a way of distracting myself.

He scoops my hand up in his and brings it back to his lap, our fingers intertwining on his thigh. “No. I’ll need to play catch-up at home.”

“Tomorrow, too?”

“Some.”

There’s a lot of weight in that word, and I know he’s downplaying his workload so I don’t feel guilty for keeping him away from the office today.

When I’m quiet, he glances over. “I’d do it again.”

I smile, and then because I don’t think it’s smart to keep giving him little pieces of me, I look away. “Me too.”

As suspected, our perfect day has its consequences. Cristiano is so busy Wednesday and Thursday I don’t see him at all. He doesn’t make an appearance at Aura and he doesn’t arrive after my shift to drive me home, either. I hate that I’m disappointed to have to walk back to my apartment with Antonio. Nice as he is, he’s not Cristiano. The fact that missing him consumes so much of my energy is proof of how far I’ve let this go. Annika and Simone would chastise me if they knew how caught up in him I am. Keep it light. No feelings—that’s their motto for summer relationships, and I’m trying hard to adhere to it. I’m keeping it light! I’m shoving down my feelings!

I’m so convincing that neither of them suspects anything. I’m quick on my feet at Aura, and I even sneak in a pre-shift surf session on Thursday morning with Thalia. We rent our boards at Playa Jondal, leaving euros in a jar, because the guy who works here is currently giving a surfing lesson to a group of kids. He waves when he sees us leave the cash and points to the longboards organized in neat vertical rows beside the shack.

“Fun job,” Thalia says, nodding toward the guy.

“Yeah.”

I think of when Winnie and I learned to surf back in California when we were young. My dad tried to teach us at first, but after majorly underestimating the amount of tears involved, he outsourced the task to a professional who successfully got Winnie and me carving waves in no time.

Thalia and I spend two hours out on the water, and by the time we lug our boards back to shore, my thighs are shaky from exertion. The first thing I do after I take a long drink of water is check my phone for a text from Cristiano. I know it goes against Simone and Annika’s motto to be this invested in a silly text, but I can’t help it. I thought about him way too much when I was out bobbing on the water, and it makes my heart jump for joy to see he’s reached out. He’s thinking of me, too!

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Thalia asks, plopping down on the sand and digging inside her crochet beach bag until she finds a container of chopped cantaloupe.

I put my phone away without reading the text.

“No one,” I say, brushing away her comment before bending down to take a few pieces of the fruit she offers. The orange melon is so ripe, the juice spills down my chin and makes my fingers instantly sticky. “Ohmygod,” I exclaim, not caring that I’m talking with my mouth full.

She laughs. “I know. I could eat an entire melon a day. The fruit just tastes better here, I swear.”

She passes the container back to me and I greedily accept a few more pieces. I glance at my bag, thinking of Cristiano’s text and imagining what he might have sent. We’ve been messaging off and on over the last two days. Last night, he wanted me to let him know when I got home safely, and I assumed he would already be asleep, but he replied right away.

Buenas noches.

I stared at those two words so long Simone eventually groaned at me to turn my phone off and go to sleep, threatening to toss her pillow at my head.

The subtle art of texting is not something I’ve ever perfected. Winnie was amazing at it. In the past, if I’d found myself in this situation, I would have just relinquished my phone to her all day because I’d be assured she would have Cristiano wrapped around my pinky finger by the end of it. Meanwhile, I second-guess every single word, every letter. Do I add an emoji or is it too obvious? Should I cap that joke off with an exclamation mark? No! Of course not!

Annoyed to be so caught up in caring about it, I reach into my bag and take out my phone to read his damn text when Thalia stands to go wash her hands off in the sea.

Cristiano: My contractor is late to our meeting. Distract me.

The text was sent an hour ago so I’m too late. Or maybe not…

I snap a photo of my legs stretched out in the sand alongside my surfboard. In the background, the sea is blue and beautiful.

I send it and reach for more fruit. My phone buzzes immediately.

Cristiano: Who are you with?

The question confuses me. How does he know I’m with anyone? But then I glance back at the photo and notice the blurry guy in orange swim trunks walking out of the water. I guess it does look like he’s headed toward me.

I look up and scan the beach, easily finding the guy among a group of friends who arrived to surf just as Thalia and I were finishing up.

I smile at Cristiano’s question.

Isabel: A friend.

Cristiano:…

I bite down a laugh, but that humor disappears the instant my phone starts to ring with an incoming call.