Chapter 15
Travel to Sweden
Break a heart…or two
When I wake up the sun is shining through the skylight above Christian’s bed. For a long moment I’m confused, my mind foggy, as I lay there, searching my muddled brain and knowing something important happened, but unable to remember what.
Fever. Kirstin. The clinic. Heidi helping me into bed.
Did he return home last night? If he did, I don’t remember. I move tentatively, stretching my legs. I’m stiff, a little tired. But I feel much better. Vaguely I recall Heidi waking me sometime last night and shoving medicine down my throat. It all seems like a dream. I owe my cousin big-time.
A mild case of strep throat, but because my immune system is so shitty, my body over-reacted. Will Christian’s mom tell him? Hell, she probably already has. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t returned. Or maybe something horrible happened to Kirstin.
I roll onto my side.
Christian is sitting in a chair, looking out the window onto the backyard.
My heart leaps into my throat, and for a moment I think I’m imagining him. But nope. He’s here. Flesh and blood. The relief I feel is immediate. A warm rush of emotion pulses through me, making my chest feel tight. Emotions I have no right to feel. Seeing him is like seeing the first, fresh snowfall of the year.
Love.
I take in a deep, trembling breath and squash the thought. I am not in love with a man I just met. I won’t believe it. He looks serious and tired, his elbows braced on his knees, his hair mussed. How long has he been there?
“Morning,” he says.
Startled, I glance at the clock. Morning? Ten. Shit. I slept all yesterday and the entire night. Then I remember Kirstin. Is that why he looks upset? A surge of guilt and panic races through me as I imagine the worst. I manage to sit up against the pillows. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“Kirstin?” He releases a wry laugh and rakes his hands through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled. If I was his girlfriend, I’d comb it back into place with my fingers. I’d settle on his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and offer him comfort. “The text was a lie.”
I pause for a moment, confused. The concept of concocting such an extreme lie intrigues and disgusts me. Who the hell is this woman? “She lied about suicide?”
“Yes.” He stands and moves closer to the window. He’s wearing jeans and a gray sweater that hugs his muscled chest. “She was quite drunk, but fine. She lied.”
I can’t quite decide if she’s a monster or if she’s insane. Maybe both. She has balls, I’ll give her that much. Bat-shit crazy balls. It’s not lost on me that while she tries anything she can to get him, I’m trying to push him away.
My hands are trembling as I roll back the bedspread. From my illness, or from seeing Christian, I’m not sure. I stand. A wave of dizziness washes over me and thoughts of psycho Kirstin fall to the wayside. I rest my hand on the headboard until my balance is steady. I need food. Nourishment. I need time to think, to plan. “Well, that’s good, right?”
He just nods his head. Something is wrong with him. He’s acting odd. Angry because Kirstin lied? Or maybe because Audrey and Max told him she was crazy, but he didn’t listen. I shouldn’t care. I reach for a sweatshirt and pull it over my head. Seeing him here, now, is almost painful. I can barely look at him without feeling the sting of tears. How will he react when I leave?
He turns toward me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
I feel the blood drain from my face. He knows. Did his mom tell him? No, Audrey and Max. I knew they would, but I felt so shitty I hadn’t really cared. “There’s nothing you could have done. You were gone before I even realized how I felt.”
I reach for my sweats, mostly to avoid his gaze. I have the horrible feeling he’s going to see right through me, know my every lie. “Besides, someone overdosing is a bit more important than a little fever.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps flexing, and leans against his desk. “Audrey and Max said you looked terrible.”
I laugh, trying to brush it off. This conversation is making me more and more uncomfortable. “It was nothing. Some antibiotics, and I’m fine. Even saw your mom there. Although you should make sure you go to the clinic if your throat starts to hurt. Strep, they said.”
His jaw clenches, his gaze is still pinned to me. He knows I’m avoiding, and my response isn’t what he was looking for. “Hope, you should have told me. I know you like to be independent, strong, but I could have taken you to the clinic at least. I would have stayed here. Taken care of you.”
He’s acting like I tried to trick him. I’m growing more and more annoyed, and I’m not even sure why. Maybe it’s not his business. Or maybe, deep down, I didn’t want to ask him because then he would have had to choose between me and Kirstin.
I grab my bathroom bag. “Kirstin tried to kill herself. That was more important.”
At least, she pretended she had. God, that woman needs help. I start around the bed, headed toward the bathroom to escape, but as I move by him, he reaches out and takes my hand.
His touch is electric. Startling. I jerk my gaze to his. I see it there…exactly what I didn’t want to see. Pity. I don’t want a guy to look at me like I’m his charity project. I want him to look at me like I’m a woman.
I force myself to smile. “It’s okay.”
“Hope.” He pulls me close. His scent whispers toward me, tempting, so very tempting, and I want to sink into him, breathe in the very air around him. How will I say goodbye? “They said you—”
“I’m fine. Don’t be angry at me.”
“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself. Angry that I’ve wasted so much time on Kirstin, thinking I can help her out of some stupid sense of loyalty because she was friends with my sister. Wasted so much time with her yesterday, when you were here, truly suffering.”
I flush. He cares. Maybe too much. I bite my lower lip, focusing on the pain instead of the tears welling up in my eyes. “I’m okay. It’s fine.”
He slides his finger under my chin and tilts my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze. He stares at me for one long moment, as if attempting to understand what I’m thinking. Terrified he’ll see the truth, I barely move. Finally, he releases his hold. “It won’t happen again.”
I give him a tight smile. Of course it won’t happen again because by tomorrow I’ll be gone. Damn it all, why had I ever agreed to stay with him? My moment of selfishness has ruined everything.
He gives me a quick kiss. And even as I’m planning my escape, I’m savoring the brush of his lips against mine. “I’m making you breakfast.”
I nod. “I’ll just grab a shower.”
Before he can say anything more, I slip into the bathroom and close the door. I have the odd feeling that he knows. With a sigh, I rest my forehead against the door. Maybe he doesn’t know about the cancer. But he knows something is off. Wrong.
I brace my hands against the pedestal sink and study my reflection. I look tired. Anxious. Sad. Slowly, I take off my sweatshirt. My gaze focuses on that scar by my collarbone. A constant reminder. My shrink claims I should look at it like a badge of honor. But for me it’s just a reminder of pain.
I undress and step into the shower stall. I’m trembling. From exhaustion, hunger or anxiety…I’m not sure. Last day. This is my last day with him.
Tears burn my eyes, overflowing, trailing down my face. I turn on the water and let the heated drops pepper and soothe my skin. I could tell him. I could admit the truth and see what happens. But just the thought of explaining makes my stomach twist. The shock in his eyes, followed by pity. I can’t.
How am I going to leave him?
The bathroom door creaks open. “Hope? It’s Heidi.”
Through the frosted glass I can see her settle on the edge of the sink. Hell, I can practically sense her worry. I can’t take another lecture, not now. Not when I’m so close to breaking. “What’s wrong?”
She releases a wry laugh. “What’s wrong? Nothing. I’m here to check on you.”
I pour some shampoo into my palm. The special lavender shampoo my mom said would relax me. It’s not helping. “I’m fine. Feel way better. I told you I just needed an I.V. and antibiotics.”
“Good.”
I scrub my hair. “But?”
She sighs long and loud. I rinse my hair, growing more annoyed with each second that passes. Everyone wants something from me. Everyone has their opinion of how much I’m supposed to share about my personal life, my medical history.
“Hope, I think you need to tell these people about the, you know, cancer.”
“Why?” I snap out a little too angrily. “Why do I have to share my medical history? It’s not like anyone else does.”
I turn off the water and snatch my towel from over the shower door. Poor Heidi has never had to deal with pissed-off Hope, and I’m sure I’ll feel bad later. Right now, I just want to be left alone. I just want to mourn.
“It’s not like people say, hey, nice to meet you. When I was five I had my appendix taken out. Last month I battled the flu, and I’m currently carrying herpes, but don’t worry, it’s just the cold sore kind.”
I wrap the towel around me and open the door.
Heidi looks guilty. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…
She pauses.
I grab my bathroom bag from the glass shelf and start to search through it until I find my comb. “What?”
“Hope, I think he’s in love with you.”
Her words hit me so hard, I drop my comb. It clangs against the tile floor, landing at Heidi’s feet, but I’m barely aware. In love? She’s insane. She picks up the comb and holds it out to me. As I reach for it, I realize my hands are shaking. “Heidi, Christian and I met only three weeks ago. He knew I would be leaving. It’s not possible; he doesn’t love me.”
The comment sounds false even to my own ears. I clench my comb so tight, the plastic edge bites into my palm. Does he love me? It had been easier when I’d thought my feelings were one-sided. I know he cares. I’ve always known. But love?
“He can’t,” I whisper. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
After a long pause, she stands. “Okay. Got it.”
She leaves me stunned, confused. I know I hurt her feelings, and I part my lips to call out an apology, but can’t seem to form sentences. They act like I’m purposefully trying to hurt Christian, when I’ve only been attempting to protect him. He doesn’t love me. He can’t. Guys don’t fall in love that fast. In lust, yes, but not in love.
I dress quickly in jeans and a t-shirt. For most of my life I’ve been told what to do, how to feel, what meds to take. I’m sick of it. Try this to get better. You need more sleep. Read this article on depression and dying. I head out of the bedroom and down the hall. Anger is giving me courage. I need to talk to Christian. Honestly, I don’t know what I’ll say, but I know the words will come in the moment.
“I don’t know, Christian.” Audrey’s whispered words stop me at the top of the stairs. “There’s something off about her.”
I almost laugh. They’re discussing Kirstin again, and off is an understatement. Still, I’m glad Audrey is here to tell him the truth. I grip the railing. Yes, I need to leave Norway, but going will be easier knowing he’s given up on Kirstin.
“She looked bad, mate,” Max says. “Really bad. Pale, could barely walk to the taxi. Heidi had to help her. Are you sure she’s not on drugs?”
I freeze, my fingers wrapped tightly around the railing. They’re not talking about Kirstin. They’re talking about me.
“Don’t be insane,” Christian snaps. “And it’s none of your fucking business.”
“It is!” Audrey hisses. “Merde, she doesn’t even make you happy. You’ve been in a bad mood the last three days.”
Christian responds in Norwegian, the foreign words snapping me from my frozen state.
Slowly, I turn and head back up the steps. I want to be angry. I can’t. They’re right. Since we’ve been in Norway Christian hasn’t been his usual, cheerful self, and that’s my fault. I’m not good for him. I can’t offer him a life, a future. His friends, his mom, hell even Kirstin knows it.
It’s time to go home.
****
My phone vibrates with an incoming text an hour after we’ve arrived at the club.
In the middle of the dance floor, I pause and pull the phone from my back pocket. Around me people are dancing, lights flashing, music pumping, but I barely notice.
I’ll be there soon, the text says.
I slide my phone back into my pocket and instinctively search for Christian. He’s across the room talking to Max. Christian had wanted to stay in tonight so I could rest, but I’d insisted on going to the club. My heart is hammering so hard I think it might explode. I know what I have to do, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
“You okay?” Audrey asks, as she dances close by.
She’s been dancing the whole night, all ease and happiness. I smile and nod. Maybe in another life we could have been friends. Not now. Not ever. She’ll hate me after tonight. She won’t understand.
She grabs my hand and forces me to start dancing again. I go with the motions. Everything seems murky, like I’m dreaming, or watching a movie. I’m on the dance floor, dancing with Audrey, but I can feel Christian’s eyes on me. I talked Heidi into staying at home and packing so we’d be ready to go. She told me it was a bad, stupid plan. I ignored her.
Audrey leans closer. “Something going on between you and Christian?”
I can barely hear her over the thrum of music. “Not that I know of.”
She doesn’t look like she believes me. “Let’s get a drink.” She takes my hand and leads me toward the bar, and reluctantly I follow. I know what will come next…a lecture from Audrey. Maybe she’ll warn me off. Who knows? The bartender is an older man who looks like he can’t wait for his shift to be over. I understand how he feels.
“Water and vodka coke,” Audrey says.
I have a moment while she speaks to him to look around the club. My gaze wanders to the doors. The steps are empty. How much longer? My skin feels tight. The urge to bolt is overwhelming. Now that I’ve decided to leave, something cold has settled within my chest. It’s as if I’ve locked my heart away in ice in order to protect myself. The sensation is all too familiar.
“So,” Audrey says, facing me. “What’s going on?”
I sip my water. Damn her and her French bluntness. “I don’t know what you mean.”
She stirs the straw around in her drink. “You’ve been acting strangely the last couple days. Christian has been acting strangely.”
“Maybe,” I say, leaning against the bar as I decide to be as blunt as she is. “We’ve just realized that things are ending.”
She arches a brow. “Are they? Does Christian know this?”
I like Audrey. I think she’s a good person, but hearing her accusatory tone makes me angry. “He’s known from the beginning, Audrey. He knew I was staying a week. It’s actually been eight days. I’ve reminded him all the time that I’m leaving.”
She doesn’t look appeased and my annoyance grows. They’re making me into the bad guy here. Let them. What does it matter? I won’t ever see any of them again. I take a swig of my water. My heart is pounding so hard I’m starting to feel dizzy. I don’t look for him anymore, because I can’t. If I do, I might toss aside my well-laid plans. For the last three weeks I’ve been living in a fantasy world. But that fantasy has to end.
“Listen, Hope,” she says in her sexy French accent that makes her sound so worldly. “I like you. But you’re leading Christian on and I don’t like that.”
I release a harsh laugh. “Is that what you think? Is that what he thinks? I’ve made it clear from the beginning that I would only be here for the summer. If any of you expected more, that’s your issue, not mine.”
Her mouth presses into a thin line, her eyes flashing. “Don’t act like you don’t care about him.”
“Of course I care about him, but what do you expect from me? To leave Florida? Move here? Give up my life for a guy I met three weeks ago?”
“No one is saying that,” she says, raking her hand through her pixie cut, obviously frustrated. “It’s just…I don’t want Christian hurt. You need to talk to him.”
Talk to him? And say what? I have cancer? It’s too late for miracles. I can see Christian making his way toward me. My chest grows tight. It’s hard to breathe. So damn hard. Panic makes the edges of my vision go dark. “I never should have come here.”
“Hope,” Audrey says. “Wait…”
I turn and start toward the door, desperate for escape. Matt suddenly appears like my guardian angel. The relief I feel is immediate. Vaguely I realize I’m relying on him to save the day, and Christian’s idea that I’m a strong woman is utter shit. Matt spots me and heads my way. It doesn’t matter because soon Christian will question everything he ever believed about me. Soon, he will hate me.
“Hey.” Matt grips my shoulders as we meet on the steps, and I have to resist the urge to sink into him. “Are you okay?”
The music is too loud, the beat pounding against my eardrums is almost painful. The desperate need to escape is overwhelming. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just…glad you’re here.”
His gaze shifts to Christian who is making his way up the steps. “Is he bugging you?”
“Hope?” Christian pauses at my side, so close I can feel the heat of his body. His gaze jumps from me, to Matt. The tension between the two of them is thick. Pulsing. “What’s he doing here?”
“I’m here because she text’d me, asking me to come get her,” Matt snaps back. “And I want to know why. What the hell did you do?”
Christian looks as if I’ve betrayed him. But this is what I expected…right? The hurt in his eyes quickly gives way to anger. Shit. This is getting out of control fast. They’re like two bulls about to charge. I press my hand to Matt’s chest. Christian’s gaze zeros in on the contact, but I can’t afford to worry about him exploding. Right now I have to diffuse my ex.
“He didn’t do anything, Matt. It’s fine. I just needed to talk.” When I peek up at Christian, it’s to see his gaze has gone hard. As cold as brittle ice. His father’s gaze. A shiver of unease races through me. I can see the beginning of the end here, now, in this moment, and I’m shocked by the soul-crushing feeling of loss that hits me.
“Why is he here?” Christian repeats.
This is it. I’m standing at the edge of a precipice. One more step and I’m going to fall. Audrey watches from the bar. It will be the last time I see her. Max is talking to some friends near the dance floor, laughing. I draw in a deep, steadying breath and finally look at him. Christian, standing before me, cold, hard, waiting for me to deny the truth that is here before us all.
“I need to talk to Matt.” Before a fight erupts, I grab his arm and lead him outside. I can feel Christian’s gaze burning into my back. This is how it has to be. The music pulses, urging me on. Sweat dampens my forehead. I want to vomit. Matt shoves open the door and we step out into the cool, crisp night. The door closes behind us, shutting off the music. I sink against the building, needing the support.
Part of me wants to run back inside, and throw my arms around Christian before it’s too late. I close my eyes, focusing on my breathing. I can’t go back in there. No matter how much every cell of my being is begging me. Neither Matt nor I speak for a long, heavy moment. I owe him for this. He dropped everything in Amsterdam to get here…for me. Always for me.
“Hope, what the hell is going on? Do I need to kick that guy’s ass?”
“God, no! He’s done nothing. This is my fault.” I shove away from the wall and pace in front of him as unshed tears burn my eyes. “I thought it could be just a fling. I didn’t think he’d care.”
He reaches out, grabbing my hand and jerking me to a stop. “Hope, what the hell are you talking about?”
I owe him so much, but for now an explanation will have to do. “Christian. Our relationship was supposed to just be a fling. I haven’t told him about the cancer. I just wanted romance, for a few weeks. Something that would make me forget. But he’s…”
The door opens, the music blasts out into the night, startling me. I know it’s him. I don’t have to turn and look. He’s branded my soul. My heart leaps into my throat. And suddenly I know what to do. Frantic, I latch onto Matt’s broad shoulders. My heart hammers so hard, I can barely hear anything other than the thump. “Kiss me.”
Matt frowns. “What?”
“No.” I frantically shake my head. A cold calm washes over me. “That won’t work. I have to kiss you.”
Matt stiffens. “Hope, what the hell is going on?”
I dig my fingers into his shoulders and lean up on tiptoe. It’s now or never. I know without doubt this will destroy everything. From somewhere down the street, a car honks. I don’t have time to explain to Matt. Instead, I press up against his hard body and mold my mouth to his.
Instinctively, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. It feels so damn natural. Normal. Yet, there’s no fire. No desire to wrap my arms more tightly around him, to sink into him. As we kiss, my stomach churns with guilt. The only thing I feel is shame. I’m cheating on Christian.
Finally, I pull back. It’s then that I spot Christian out of the corner of my eye. Slowly, I turn toward him. I don’t have to fake my paleness, my trembling hands. His face is an emotionless mask. The only indication that he’s upset, his hands fisted at his sides.
The entire world fades, everyone but Christian. I take a hesitant step toward him and spot the wild beat of a pulse in the side of his neck. He’s furious. Hurt. No turning back now. It’s done. “I’m sorry, Christian. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but…Matt and I have known each other for so long.”
The icy contempt in his gaze kills me. Without a word, he turns and walks away. A cry of pain, denial, sorrow well up inside me. I press my hands to my mouth, trying to keep it contained. I want to go after him. I want to plead with him to forgive me.
I can’t. I got what I wanted all along. Yet, I can’t deny the wave of regret that washes over me. I suck in a deep breath and press my hand to my chest. It shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t feel as if someone has cracked open my ribcage and ripped out my heart. He turns a corner, disappearing from view.
Tears burn my eyes, dropping from my lashes and spotting my shirt. He’s gone. For good. This is what I wanted. This is what needed to happen. So why does it hurt so damn much? I take in a deep, shuddering breath. The only thing left to do is meet Heidi at the hotel I got us for the night. That’s me…always planning ahead.
“You’re a horrible actor,” Matias says softly. “Which he would have noticed if you hadn’t just crushed his heart.”
I’m embarrassed and ashamed, but I force myself to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “There’s something I need to tell you. I met someone in Amsterdam. It’s not serious, but it could be.”
I nod, unsure how to feel. “Oh.” I feel…oddly nothing. My feelings for Matt have definitely traveled down the road of friendship. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling small and vulnerable and so very tired. “Don’t hate me for using you.”
He sighs and pulls me into his arms. “I could never hate you. Besides, I think you hate yourself enough right now.”