Be Brave With Me

Chapter Fourteen

Another night, another idyllic bay nestled into the rugged coastline.

When Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln had invited everyone out for a big dinner as a thank you for their help at making the night of their anniversary so special, Captain Bardo had known just the place to lower their anchor. He had called up Josip, an old friend of his from his sea adventures back in the day, nowadays the owner of a small konoba located on the beach of tonight's bay.

The place boasted no more than a dozen small tables on its terrace which bordered on the water and overlooked the bay. But Josip had readily made room for them before firing up his massive outdoor barbecue. His little girl sat watch next to the old-fashioned juke box, his older son was weaving in and out between their seats to take their orders, and his wife Meralda kept coming around to top off their wine glasses.

Aura was holding hers up for another refill.

Her fifth.

Theo knew because he had counted.

Covertly and low-key, from his spot at the other end of the long table, wedged between the other guys who had relieved Meralda from her hosting duties by easing the entire wine bottle out of her hands. He was trying his best to goof around along with the boys who were making the most out of their night off, the amazing food, the great wine - while watching out for Aura.

She seemed determined to get herself drunk tonight. To cheer herself up?

He used to remembered a time when he was the only one who could pull that off. The only one who could coax a smile from her when one of her parents' assistants had called to cancel yet another weekend they had promised to drop by for a visit.

The only one who knew the two secret ingredients.

First, holding her close in his arms. Second, some form of distraction. Staying up all night and playing video games, listening to him retelling some embarrassing stunt that had happened to him so she wouldn't feel so vulnerable all alone.

He'd had the routine down to a T as a nine-year-old.

So of course, he had to go and do the exact opposite the other day.

Instead of opening his arms for her, he had crossed them in front of his chest and stood his ground. Instead of distracting her, he had pushed where it hurt.

Sure. It had earned him an involuntary dive and a soggy trip back to the boat. But he wouldn't take back what he had said.

He couldn't. Words are the one thing in life you can't take back. Once said out loud, you can't erase, fix, bleach away, black out any of them. You have to stand by them. And he stood by what he'd said to Aura on that pier two days ago.

She was Principessa Aurelia, for fuck's sake.

No one should ever bring her to her knees. She was too magnificent, too majestic.

And yet, she had stood in front of him with her head bowed low and her hand tangled in the tail of his shirt, struggling to stay on her feet and not crumble to her knees.

Those damn Carmichaels. Did they know what they were putting her own daughter through? Did they know how they made her sacrifice everything and more to earn their fucking approval?

The memory of the sight of her on that pier had his heart aching for her even two days later. He found himself rubbing one hand against a spot on his chest. Against the spot she had pressed her hand to. Up in the chapel, in the shadows of the confessional.

She had put her hand on him like she'd put it on the Bible, swearing to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. And he had know it was her truth. I need to apologize. I ran away with our friendship, and I know you deserved so much better.