Page 69 of She's Like the Wind

My parents’ neighbor, Uncle Walton, wore caftans and sang Aretha on his porch.Mama’s church friend made pralines and sold them on Bourbon to raise money. Everyone was allowed to be themselves.

Hell, no one gave me a second look tonight, even though I probably seemed out of place.Tattooed contractor with a hammer in one hand and a folding chair in the other?Just another member of the crew? Or maybe a performer?

“Tough luck she left with the suit, eh?” Aurelie scanned the slowly-emptying church.

“Tough,” I agreed.

Aurelie stared at me for a beat, then her voice softened, just a touch. “Tess isn’t wrong, you know. Youtwo…I always thought you were the hottest couple. And not just because you probably fuck like minks—but because you balanced each other. Calmed each other.”

If only I’d seen what everyone else had—that we were made for each other, I’d be the one having drinks at the Elysian Bar (another old church that was now a hotel and bar) with my girl, not the fucking suit.

“Alright, I think we’re done.” Aurelie winked at me. “And you looked good cleaning up all those feathers.”

“I think I can make myself a feather duster now,” I joked as I picked up a stray pearl from the floor. “And a pearl necklace.”

“You’d look good in both,” she stated confidently.

CHAPTER 24

Naomi

Ihad wanted to stay with Gage. That was the truth.

Yeah, I wasthateasy.

The man showed up, did some work, and I was ready to forgive and forget.

I rubbed my chest where my heart was, willing it to behave itself, willing it to give up how it felt about Gage.

Right! Because it wasthateasy.

The Elysian Bar was a short walk from the opera house—we were going from one church to another, I thought, amused as we stepped into the hallway where streetlights filtered through stained glass, throwing honey-colored patterns across linen-covered tables and worn wood floors. The scent of citrus, herbs, and smoked cocktails drifted—part altar fumes, part kitchen heat.

The bar was nestled inside the Hotel Peter & Paul, a former Catholic church, rectory, and school dating back to the 1860s. Restored with near-reverence, the property had kept its soul intact—arched ceilings, antique light fixtures, confessional booths turned into reading nooks, and the old altar now a lobby centerpiece. Holiness reimagined.

We were seated in what used to be a classroom—the walls still bore faint outlines of chalkboards beneath layers of lime-washed plaster. I knew all this because I’d come here with Gage once, and he’d told me the history of the building.

No matter what I did and where I was, he was ever-present.

Love was all-consuming, I had learned in the past months, especially when it was lost. The happiness I’d felt being with Gage was in direct weight to the sadness I felt now. The confusion of having himback, wanting meback,only added to the heaviness inside me.

I always wanted to find love—the incontrovertible and unconditional kind—what I had experienced with my parents. I had tried not to fall for Gage. But the stupid heart went right ahead and made one of my biggest mistakes.

But he’s back.

But what if he gets cold feet again and hurts me?

We sat near the window, overlooking Burgundy Street. On the table were two glasses of Gamay and abasket of warm focaccia, which I tore into like it owed me something.

I ordered the chicken under a brick, which they did to perfection at the Elysian, while Jonah ordered the chef’s cut pork.

“The runway show went well,” Jonah remarked, and I realized that I hadn’t said much since we left the opera house.

“Yes, it did,” I murmured.

He tilted his head. “He wants you back.”

I bit my lower lip and shrugged, not sure how to respond. I wasn’t surewhatGage wanted—and what wanting me back even meant, now that I thought about it.