Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” William begins after we’ve been driving for a while. “You know, about how I’ll notice more people, fans and such, over the next few days.”
“Okay…”
“Well, if that’s true, if there are going to be so many eyes watching your every move, is it such a good idea I’m coming with you?”
Seriously? He’s waited till now to bring this up. Kept quiet all through the night and through this morning’s flight to Nice.
“I’m hardly going to start choking on your dick in front of the paparazzi.”
William tuts, rolls his eyes. “I know that. I just meant-”
“I know what you meant. I’m sorry. I suppose I get pissed off sometimes that things like this have to be an issue. Not you. The press and stuff. Like, I should be able to have secrets like anyone else.”
He nods slowly, but the furrow of concern never smooths in his brow.
“The villa is private,” I assure him. “No one will bother us in Antibes. When we head over to the festival, you’re not going to be walking the carpet or anything. And Ned and Andy will be there. If, for some reason, your photo ends up anywhere, your wife knows you’re Andy’s friend, right?”
Again, he nods.
“And she knows you’re coming? Rebecca?”
“Yeah. Although the gaffer thinks I’ve only tagged along because I’ve got family down here. Told him it’d be a good opportunity to catch up, if he could spare me.”
“You didn’t.”
“How else do you think I got the time off?”
Honestly, I hadn’t really thought about it. I assumed he’d just told Nate I’d invited him. On reflection, that’s not a compelling reason to skip work, and could also raise suspicion.
“Okay, so you caught up with your fictional granny and then came out with Andy and me. Your friends. Nothing to worry about.”
He looks to think on that for a few seconds, and then nods. It’s a more confident nod this time, and I like to think he feels better. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
Arriving at the villa, I’m taken in yet again by the awe in William’s eyes. He absorbs everything with childlike wonder, as if he’s lived his life in a little box. “This is fucking beautiful,” he says, almost running up the gravelly path towards the imposing property.
There are a lot of modern buildings here in Antibes, with white walls and tall glass panes. I’ve stayed in several, but I chose something more rustic for William. Something a little more camouflaged against the world, set higher up into the hills. He’s the first to reach the villa comprised of old stone, looking back at me with wide eyes and an eager grin. “You can see the ocean from here.”
I know from the website photos, there is a perfect view of the sea from the terrace that juts out from the side of the villa. I’ve already imagined us standing there at dusk, leaning against the stone wall like Jack and Rose on the Titanic, watching the waves crash into the shore. The vision is so whole and pure in my head, just like the movie. Our own movie, only there’s no one to yell cut.
Near the entrance, I toss William the keys. He lets us inside and I drop our bags onto the terracotta tiled floor, knowing I’ll be the one to unpack them after learning William is, in fact, a live-out-of-the-suitcase type. Next, I follow William through the villa, captivated by the wonder in his eyes while he discovers the place. It’s large but cosy, filled with furniture. Outside there’s a spacious pool with views of the mountains, completely secluded. And then, there’s our terrace…where we will stand later, and I will snake my arms around his waist and wish we never had to leave, return to a life where loving him is forbidden.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Huh?” Blinking my eyes back to reality, I find William in front of me.
His hand presses against my cheek. “You zoned out there for a second. Is something wrong?”
Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know. I hold his hand against my face, sighing. “I went to see my mum after I left the farm,” I say, and I don’t really know why, or where this is going.
His hand slips from my cheek. “I know. You told me you were going. Is she okay?”
I realise upon seeing the panic cross his expression, that he may be thinking something dreadful. “Oh aye. Aye, she’s fine. We just, uh, we talked about some stuff. Got me thinking.”
“About us?”
I nod. “Amongst other things.”
“Do I need to be worried?” he asks. He already looks it.
“Do I?” As soon as I say it, regret sets in. I’ve just started something I’m not ready to continue, because it might lead to an answer I’ll never be equipped to accept. I turn away from him, make my way back to the pool area and pull up a stool by the bar.