The Prince's Scandalous Baby by Holly Rayner Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Holly Rayner
no way of knowing she was just like them; that it was just a strange, random course of events that had led to her being in there, while they were outside, suffering through the heat of the day.
She wondered, for a moment, if this was how Giancarlo felt when he rode through town; so close, and yet so separate from them all. There was a very specific kind of loneliness that sitting unseen behind a window provided. She wouldn’t have thought it would feel this way.
And then she cursed herself for thinking of him. She needed to get him out of her head. It was over. It was done. She needed to accept that. But it still felt like she was losing something when the limo pulled up to her tiny apartment and she got out. She felt like she was leaving his world. And she wished, for just a moment, that she didn’t have to.
EIGHT
Juliette spent the bulk of her day making her final preparations to leave. It would be better when she was home and could put all this behind her, she thought. The day before, she’d anticipated that packing her bags would be a long, onerous process. But now, as she went through the motions, she only felt numb.
She settled her accounts with her roommates, and told them what she’d be leaving behind in the apartment, and that they were welcome to keep it. She said goodbye to them. They were still students, and she’d felt close to them during her time here. The day before she’d thought that she would end up crying when she said goodbye, but today, she couldn’t quite summon the emotion. These people were no longer the ones she would think of when she thought of her time in Italy.
And, again, she found herself hating Giancarlo; not for lying, this time, but for replacing everything she thought was going to be significant about her memories of this place. He didn’t deserve the primacy in her mind that she was giving him, nor did she think there was any way she would be able to take it away from him.
She went to lunch with a college friend, who was waxing nostalgic about her leaving. She checked and rechecked her flights, and did her online check-in. She performed all the little rituals of leaving.
And yet, somehow, when the time came to go to the airport, she still felt surprised that it was actually happening. She called a cab, and thanked the cab driver for helping her put her heavy suitcases in the back.
“Where to?” he asked her, in Italian, from the front.
She was about to tell him to go straight to the airport, but the words caught in her throat.
“To the Fountain of Neptune,” she said.
The driver shot her a curious glance, and Juliette realized it probably sounded odd that she would be packing up all her bags and not leaving.
“And then to the airport,” she added, with more sadness in her voice than she had expected.
The driver nodded, and pulled away.
This was more like the city as she remembered it: as one of the people, from a standard cab. Juliette drank in every detail of every building. The melancholy she had felt yesterday, after she’d turned in the last of her assignments, began to steal over her, and she once again began to regret that this chapter of her life was over.
When they reached the Fountain of Neptune, Juliette told the driver to slow down, and not to stop. She hunched down in her seat. She had her doubts, even now, that Giancarlo would show. If he was there, she didn’t want him to see her. It would be better that way. Easier for both of them.
When she didn’t see him, she was surprised by the rush of anger that coursed through her veins. She didn’t intend to meet him, and she’d given no indication to him, earlier, that she did. It was completely understandable that he would change his mind.
But the idea that he had changed his mind seemed wrong to her. It seemed insulting, in some way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And it seemed, in that moment, like everything she
She wondered, for a moment, if this was how Giancarlo felt when he rode through town; so close, and yet so separate from them all. There was a very specific kind of loneliness that sitting unseen behind a window provided. She wouldn’t have thought it would feel this way.
And then she cursed herself for thinking of him. She needed to get him out of her head. It was over. It was done. She needed to accept that. But it still felt like she was losing something when the limo pulled up to her tiny apartment and she got out. She felt like she was leaving his world. And she wished, for just a moment, that she didn’t have to.
EIGHT
Juliette spent the bulk of her day making her final preparations to leave. It would be better when she was home and could put all this behind her, she thought. The day before, she’d anticipated that packing her bags would be a long, onerous process. But now, as she went through the motions, she only felt numb.
She settled her accounts with her roommates, and told them what she’d be leaving behind in the apartment, and that they were welcome to keep it. She said goodbye to them. They were still students, and she’d felt close to them during her time here. The day before she’d thought that she would end up crying when she said goodbye, but today, she couldn’t quite summon the emotion. These people were no longer the ones she would think of when she thought of her time in Italy.
And, again, she found herself hating Giancarlo; not for lying, this time, but for replacing everything she thought was going to be significant about her memories of this place. He didn’t deserve the primacy in her mind that she was giving him, nor did she think there was any way she would be able to take it away from him.
She went to lunch with a college friend, who was waxing nostalgic about her leaving. She checked and rechecked her flights, and did her online check-in. She performed all the little rituals of leaving.
And yet, somehow, when the time came to go to the airport, she still felt surprised that it was actually happening. She called a cab, and thanked the cab driver for helping her put her heavy suitcases in the back.
“Where to?” he asked her, in Italian, from the front.
She was about to tell him to go straight to the airport, but the words caught in her throat.
“To the Fountain of Neptune,” she said.
The driver shot her a curious glance, and Juliette realized it probably sounded odd that she would be packing up all her bags and not leaving.
“And then to the airport,” she added, with more sadness in her voice than she had expected.
The driver nodded, and pulled away.
This was more like the city as she remembered it: as one of the people, from a standard cab. Juliette drank in every detail of every building. The melancholy she had felt yesterday, after she’d turned in the last of her assignments, began to steal over her, and she once again began to regret that this chapter of her life was over.
When they reached the Fountain of Neptune, Juliette told the driver to slow down, and not to stop. She hunched down in her seat. She had her doubts, even now, that Giancarlo would show. If he was there, she didn’t want him to see her. It would be better that way. Easier for both of them.
When she didn’t see him, she was surprised by the rush of anger that coursed through her veins. She didn’t intend to meet him, and she’d given no indication to him, earlier, that she did. It was completely understandable that he would change his mind.
But the idea that he had changed his mind seemed wrong to her. It seemed insulting, in some way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And it seemed, in that moment, like everything she
Similar Books
Casca 19: The Samurai
Barry Sadler
Breaking Gods
Viola Grace
Leave it to Eva
Judi Curtin
Destroyer of Worlds
Larry Niven
Lean In
Sheryl Sandberg
014218182X
Stephen Dobyns
Run Away Baby
Holly Tierney-Bedord
Distracted by her Virtue
Maggie Cox
Rabbit Redux
John Updike
Crunch
Leslie Connor