Loving Your Lies by Piper Shelly Page A

smile and headed back to his side of the balcony.
    “Goodnight,” I whispered hardly audible to
myself.
    Julian chuckled then disappeared through the
floating curtains.
     
    *
     
    I woke snuggled into a sea of softness. The
faint light of a breaking morning fell through the window above my
bed. I yawned, my body completely relaxed. Something I’d never
experienced before.
    Still muzzy from sleep, I blinked, taking in
the features of the room. Only then did I remember where I was.
Alarm shot through me. Stupefying. How could I’ve slept so
peacefully with my mother resting only one story below?
    The floor felt cold against my bare feet as
I got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Warm water washed
away the last bit of sleep from my eyes. In the mirror, I caught
the face of an indecisive child. Chocolate or candy? Dream castle
or freedom? If I wanted to leave, then now would be the perfect
moment.
    Yesterday, Marie had made me a fantastic
dinner, and I had slept through the night on a bed of clouds. I’d
tasted heaven, now I needed to go before I grew used to the comfort
and wouldn’t be able to part from it.
    “The vineyard,” the girl in the mirror
whispered, her tone a suggestive tease. I couldn’t leave before
taking a walk through the vineyard. Just once , I promised
myself. Tonight I’d certainly be off on my way to England.
    Five o’clock in the morning seemed a bit
early to wander downstairs and wait for Marie to get up and show me
the vineyards. I settled on the bed, tucked my feet under the
blanket, and leaned on the windowsill. Chin resting in the crook of
my folded arm, I gazed out on the vinery and mused about the
breaking day.
    The first and only day of my slave work.
    What would my uncle expect me to do in the
yards? I could hardly take a watering can and wet the entire field.
It would take five-hundred years or more.
    Back straight, I narrowed my eyes to scan
the little grapes on the bushes. Mid-August, they should yet be too
small to be harvested. So, what else would await me today?
    With a little shock of anticipation, I
couldn’t wait to get out to the vine and do whatever tasks my aunt
and uncle ordered me to do.
    A shiver rattled my teeth as the morning
wind blew around me. The blanket pulled up to my neck, I wrapped
myself in it like a hotdog. The covers still bore the warmth from
last night. I curled against the headboard and closed my eyes only
for a second longer than a blink. But soon sleep sneaked up on me,
and I dozed off.
    Next time I woke, strong sunrays warmed my
face and the chirping of a bunch of birds carried to me. A feather
brushed the skin from my brow down to the tip of my nose. The purr
of a happy cat pushed up my throat as the stroking continued. I
blinked against the warm sun. Julian’s blue eyes were leveled with
mine.
    My mind still drifting from chasing a
sparrow in the vineyard, I wondered how Julian had found his way
into my dreams. We gazed at each other. No one spoke in this unreal
moment.
    The corners of his lips twitched up and mine
followed suit. What I had mistaken for a feather before was in fact
a wisp of my hair caught between his fingers. He brushed down my
nose one last time, then let go of the strand, and briefly chipped
my chin with his knuckle. “Good morning.”
    “Hi.” My voice matched the warmth of the
sun.
    “I hope you didn’t sleep like this all
night. Isn’t a windowsill an uncomfortable excuse for a
pillow?”
    “Actually, I’ve slept in worse positions.”
The sereneness of our conversation and the peaceful morning
embraced me like an extra layer of blankets. The mixture of mint,
basil, and other herbal scents drifted on the breeze and filled my
head. I snuggled deeper into the crook of my arm. “What are you
doing here, anyway?”
    “I came to wake you.”
    A mellow chuckle rocked my body. “With
bunches of my hair?”
    He shrugged. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“Would you rather I poked you with a stick?”
    The thought