Jamming his hands back into his pockets, he moves around her and makes his way back to the edge of the water. This time, he makes himself look at the swirling current.

“The first day we ever came down here, we had a picnic. It was beautiful—a perfect moment and a perfect day. So, of course, I wanted to come back. I wanted to paint her here, but the second time we came back, things changed.

Leaves crunch, and then she is beside him. Gemma reaches out and takes his hand with hers. The wind picks up and ruffles through their hair. Phillipe closes his eyes as he pictures her beside him instead.

“I wanted to paint you. You told me I could, so I brought you back here. That was the day you went away.”

* * *

I hold Phillipe’s hand, trying to extend my sympathies. I try to show that he can trust me as he stands beside me, talking to a woman who is no longer here. In that moment, as the wind picks up and swirls around us both, I look out across the water to the opposite bank. I stop and focus on a shadow. No, maybe it’s a figure. It stands there, looking back at us. It’s quietly judging, quietly watching.

Shaking my head, I turn to see Phillipe has his eyes closed, and his mouth is pulled tight. I don’t understand much of what has happened to me in the past few days, but one thing I know for certain is that he is still with her and she is still with him.

And me? Well, I’m caught somewhere in between.


Chapter  Nineteen ~ Rhapsody