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I can’t let Ayla lose someone else, and I can’t imagine a life without seeing Lux or having contact with her. And that’s the reason I nod.

“Thank you.” She turns and walks away from me, leaving me to stare after her.

29

Lux

As I walk away from Ollie, I stomp on my urge to cry. There will be enough time for that when I’m in Positano with a glass of wine. There is no way in hell I’m going let myself get photographed by anyone while crying on the streets of Baltimore. I’m done being social media drama fodder. I’ll be damned if anyone calls me Poor Luxxy ever again.

I finish my walk, head home, shower, and wait for my ride. My skin is tingling, and part of me wishes I had called an Uber. I hate being here with the memories of Ollie and me whispering from every corner. I can’t look anywhere without being reminded of his kiss, his touch, the way we rolled on the bed, the floors, and bumped the wall while tearing into each other during sex.

I shove my eyes shut, and I swear I hear the moans he extracted out of me. I push to my feet and go to my studio. I record a cryptic mini message to my followers, telling them to expect new content from a mystery location.

The Bougie Life goes international again.

I post it impromptu. I can picture Mimi’s sour face when she sees it. I didn’t clear it with her, and I don’t really have to. I do have autonomy to post ad hoc content, but she’ll hate it, especially since, thanks to what happened with Mateo, my lawyer is using a clause in my contract about inflicted emotional distress to renegotiate some of the terms of my contract. This will give me the power to make sure they can’t force me to interview people I don’t want to again. Thanks, Cam, for lending me your sharks.

The video has been up for a few minutes when the likes and comments start appearing, and what I see has me smiling.

I love when you go on location, Lux.

OMG. This is not a drill. She’s trying a new spot.

I’m planning a vacation. Give me somewhere I’ll love.

Tell me you’re taking Fabian or Angelo so Mateo can drop dead after.

GIRL, I was worried you were backpedaling. So relieved.

Everything is a blur after that: the trip to the airport, getting a shoulder massage at the lounge, boarding the plane and downing two glasses of champagne only to knock out. I slept the entire flight and thought I would be up for dinner when I got into Positano.

Now that I’m here, I need a minute. Lying on the bed, I scroll IG for a few minutes but can’t even concentrate.

My brain keeps landing on Ollie’s sad eyes before I walked away from him. One of us is always walking away.

My phone drops on my chest, and it jolts me. I place it next to my pillow. Maybe I’ll take a little nap. It’s only four in the afternoon.

The shush of sea waves rolling over sand and crashing against the rocks slowly brings me out of my slumber. I burrow closer against the too-soft pillows while covered in sheets sprayed with lemon essence. I didn’t notice the smell when I came in. It’s still light outside but too bright. I reach for my phone, and the screen lights up. It’s ten in the morning, and I’ve been asleep since four in the afternoon yesterday.

There are tons of texts messages—Adri, Lauren, my brothers, and three missed calls from Marilyn. I’m definitely not calling her back. The latest one from Maeven makes me push off the bed.

Maeven

Get your ass up and come eat breakfast with me.

I brush my teeth, spray some rose water on my face, moisturize, and apply a heavy layer of sunscreen, then grab a silk turquoise robe from the bathroom. On my way out of the room, I pull back the curtains. The sun blares in my eyes. My vision adjusts and lands on the color progression from aqua to turquoise, blending into the darker shades of blue. A gasp rocks my body, and the breath catches in my throat. The Tyrrhenian gradient is unforgettable and even more beautiful than I remember.

“Get outside.” Maeven yells from the table on the far left of the balcony. She’s wearing a robe just like mine but in a blue that complements her brown porcelain skin. She’s sitting at a table with a breakfast spread in front of her.

I open the double doors and walk out onto the balcony. The smell of the sea fills my nostrils, engulfing me in instant memories of Ollie’s cologne and the warmth of his body. I force myself not to close my eyes and let it sweep over me. Instead, I shake my head to clear my thoughts.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Maeven says.

“I should be saying that to you. God, your skin is glowing so much you need a sponsorship.”

She smiles up at me and sweeps a hand over the table. “Thank you. Sit. Eat.”

I obey and immediately reach for what I know is a Bellini. “When did you get here?”