Chapter 7
Be more social and spend time with new friends
Catch cheater in the act
When Jessica rang the buzzer the next morning I’d been shocked, to say the least. She’d gotten my address from Christian, claiming she needed to be around another American.
I’m pretty sure she’s just checking up on me, which makes me feel guilty as hell, considering what she’s going through with her boyfriend.
I’ve been trying to keep our conversation light as we walk through the park, telling her about our date to Kronborg. She laughs and nods in all the right places, but I can tell she’s not truly listening. She doesn’t notice the soft, warm breeze. The mother cooing to her baby on a blanket in the grass area. She doesn’t notice the guy who walks by, checking her out.
She’s lost in her own issues. Her own pain. Pretending to be in this world. In reality she’s a pittance of a person. A half-human. Worry, sadness have eaten away until only her soul remains, encased in a brittle shell. She’s like a trapped ghost. It’s the same way my mom looks at times.
“How are you?” I finally ask.
It’s the question I’ve always hated the most, and now I’m doing to her what people do to me. How am I? How do you think I am, I’m dying for fuck’s sake. I shouldn’t be so hard on them. They know I’m dying. Their question is more to fill the awkward space, a question that says they care. It’s still annoying.
“Good.” She nods firmly as if she’s determined. As if she’s trying to talk herself into believing the lie. “And you?”
“Fine, actually.” I sip my tea. And for the first time in a long while I actually mean it. “I’m a bit tired from all the walking I do. I’m not used to exercise. But overall…okay. I’m sleeping better, eating more…my mom would be ecstatic.”
She smiles. “You look good.”
“Thanks. Still need some curves,” I say apologetically and I wonder why I sound so ashamed. Why can’t women ever take compliments? But I know why my body is such a sore subject. “You know, once when I was really thin, going through chemo, I was at a store and some guy actually yelled at me to eat a hamburger already. All of his friends started laughing. No one stood up for me because they agreed, even if they weren’t that rude about it. I went home and cried in my pillow for an hour. People don’t realize how badly I wished I could gain ten, even twenty pounds.”
She frowns. “What an asshole.”
I nod. “Very much.”
“Well you don’t look sick. There’s color to your face. Bounce to your step. You look…happy.”
And I am. So happy that at times it makes me nervous. I wasn’t supposed to come here to fall in love with life. I was supposed to come here as a last hurrah, to say goodbye to life. And suddenly, whereas before dying seemed like a relief, the thought of leaving no longer holds any appeal. When did my very beliefs, my desires, change? But I know the answer…the moment I stepped off the plane.
“Can I ask you something personal?” she says softly.
We’re walking down the path that goes between the trees. I want to live here. I want to lay in the grass every day and study. I want…to go to college. I’ve never even allowed myself to think about the possibility. “Sure. Why not.”
“Your prognosis?”
I can tell she doesn’t want to be invasive, but needs to know. I don’t mind. I understand. If we’re going to be friends, get close, she has to prepare herself in case I’m gone soon. Hell, if I don’t feel guilty. Maybe I should be avoiding her. She’s already got to deal with a dying boyfriend.
“Is it rude of me to ask?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t mind. There were trials. But nothing worked.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “I’ve had time to accept it all, you know?”
I hate the sadness in her eyes. She’s too young to deal with this shit. I’m too young. Beth is too young. Even my mom. I glance up at the sky as I fight my sudden and swift anger. Fuck you, Universe. Ok, so maybe I haven’t quite accepted it.
“How long do you have?”
“Anywhere from two years to four. How’s that for a shitty answer?”
She sighs. “I hate that bullshit kind of response from doctors. One man actually said it depended on Sebastian’s will to live. Well, don’t most people want to live? And then you have some in horrible pain, who probably want to die, but don’t. It makes no damn sense.”
She’s upset, obviously. I don’t blame her, and I don’t try to placate. I’d rather have my friends and family angry than sad any day. “How is your boyfriend?”
She looks so tired, so depleted. I thought seeing the constant frantic hope in my mom’s gaze was annoying. But seeing Jessica’s despair, the lack of hope in her eyes, is worse. So much worse. I want to hug her, tell her everything is going to be okay, but I can’t. I won’t do that to her. Because it won’t be okay. It will be horrible for a long, long while.
“Sebastian isn’t good.”
We pause where a path splits off and heads toward the castle. I can’t believe in a few days I’ll be leaving Denmark. I want to see Norway, but I don’t want to leave this either. Leave my friends. Leave Christian. We still haven’t slept together, and I’m starting to wonder if maybe it’s better that way. Shit, I have friends. Friends I like. Friends I care about. Who care about me. How could everything change so much in two weeks?
“That’s why I hate when doctors say it’s up to the patients will.” She swipes at her eyes. “He wants to stay here, he wants to stay with me…so badly. But he’s fading so fast.”
I don’t bother to respond. There’s nothing I can say that will help her. Instead, I just listen. I be the person I wish someone had been for me. She moves to a trash can, but when she reaches it, she just stares into the distance. I wish I could take a picture of her at that moment. The despair, the pain that’s written across her features. This is death. The after-effects.
She tosses away her coffee cup and returns. “They say he has six months, at the most.”
We continue down the side path toward Rosenborg. It’s stately and tall, and still here hundreds of years after it was built, unlike the people who worked on it.
I glance at Jessica. I can tell she wants to say more, but is holding back. After all, we really don’t know each other that well. And she realizes I have my own horrors to deal with. But this thing—death—has brought us together. It connects us in a way that other people can’t understand.
She releases a wry laugh. “This sucks. You suck!” she screams at the sky, gaining a few concerned glances. She doesn’t care anymore. Why should she? The worst thing that could happen, is happening. In a way it’s sort of like gaining your freedom. At least that’s one positive to death. There’s nothing worse that can happen.
“It does suck.”
She faces me. “How do you get through it?”
Her gaze is pleading. She wants answers. Hoping I can be her guru, share some sort of life lesson. Hell, I don’t know. I don’t know anything. But I have to give her something. “I’m not religious. But, well, we’re all made of energy, right? And that can’t be destroyed. So I know in some form I’ll go on. I just don’t know how. Where.”
She hesitates, and I know my answer isn’t good enough. “And you’re okay with that?”
“I have to be.” I smile as I toss my cup into the trash. “I like to think that I’m going on an adventure.”
She slides her arm through mine. She smells of cinnamon and coffee, her body warm at my side. “What do you mean?”
“Like…a new world. A new realm. Some sci-fi bullshit. You know, instead of rotting in the ground, gone for good. I joke that I’m going to Hogwarts.”
Although there is still that sad heaviness in her dark gaze, she gives me a hesitant smile. “I like that.”
We pause near the narrow bridge that leads to the castle. A little girl runs by, screaming with laughter. Another little girl follows. They don’t think of the future, worry about tomorrow. Hell, they don’t even understand what next week means. They only live in the moment.
“But if you want honesty,” I say hesitantly. “What worries me most are the people I’ll leave behind. I don’t want to be the reason they don’t try. More than anything, I’d love for my mom to say to me that once I’m gone, it will hurt, but she’ll be okay. She’ll move on eventually, and try to have the best life possible. That’s what would bring me the most peace. I don’t want to be the reason for her to give up.”
She swipes the tears from her eyes and nods. “I get it.”
And I know she does. And perhaps I’ve said something that will help her when it comes time for Sebastian to die. Perhaps now she’ll understand that her boyfriend doesn’t want her to wallow in misery once he’s gone. That he’ll want her to go on. Easier said than done.
“We met online,” she says. “Three years ago. It was an internet high school exchange program. Skype, email, and all that. We were paired.”
She smiles, her gaze hazy with memories.
“For two years we chatted, finally dating. Everyone thought we were silly. That we couldn’t have a real relationship. He came to visit me in California twice. And then…” Her smile falls. “Last year he got sick.”
A cool breeze whispers through the park, rattling the leaves of the nearby trees. I zip my blue hoodie. “You don’t go to school in Denmark?”
Despite her sadness, she’s wearing a bright red sweater that looks so cheerful, it’s almost amusing. She shakes her head. “He was in college here. He was the one who was supposed to be friends with Christian, Fiona and Ben. I was at Berkley. Did a year. Was supposed to go to Spain on an exchange program. My father’s family is from Spain, my mother’s from Mexico.”
“So you quit school?”
She shrugs. “I had to. I used the money I was saving for Spain and came here. I was already totally in love with him by then, and even though it was stage four, I was so sure he would somehow survive. He told me we should break up.”
Same thing I did to Matt. “Because he wanted you to go on with your life.”
She nods, her eyes filling with tears again. “But I couldn’t leave him. I told him whatever time we had left, we would be together. My parents were not happy that I put school on hold.”
I think about my past. Although Matt protested at first, he didn’t really put up much of a fight. Perhaps he really wanted to let go, and I’d done him more of a favor than I’d realized. We move down the path. Thinking about Matt makes me oddly sad, because I know we are truly over for good. I can’t even think of him romantically anymore. Not when I’ve kissed Christian. The realization is as annoying as it is startling.
“He agreed we could stay together as long as I moved on after he died. No sitting around and crying. I have to go back to college.”
She says it with a wryness to her voice, as if it’s preposterous. We walk for a while in silence. I haven’t known Jessica long, but I know she’s going to have a hard time dealing with Sebastian’s death. But then when you’re that in love, its normal to mourn. Which is why I’m determined to die on my own, no lingering attachments. No romantic entanglements.
“Are you scared, Hope?”
I realize with some surprise, that no one has asked that before. To ask would be to admit I’m dying. No one, not Mom, Matt, or Beth, has ever admitted that much. “I was. At first. And a couple years or so ago when I realized nothing was going to work I felt real panic. But not now. Fact is, I’m kind of ready. Bags packed and all that. I’m tired of being exhausted. Being in pain. Tired of waiting. I just…dread those final weeks, really. It’s kind of funny, you know? How much we avoid death in our lifetime. It’s the one thing we know will happen for certain, to every living being, yet we spend so much time avoiding it, ignoring it, trying to prevent the impossible. At some point we have to let it go, accept dying. It certainly makes life easier.”
“Except for the ones who are left behind.”
“Tell me about you,” I insist. I want to remind her that she has a life outside of this world of pain and death. That she can go on after Sebastian is gone. In a way, Sebastian and I are on the same side. He might not know me, but I feel like I owe him my loyalty. And I’ll try to help her, for him. “What were you studying at school?”
“Graphic design.”
“Were you?” I perk up. She knows art. She knows quality. “Can I show you something?”
“Sure.”
I pull out my phone and open my Instagram account where I post my photos anonymously. “Tell me the truth. I’m serious. I’m a dying girl, you can’t hurt my feelings.”
She takes my phone and starts flipping through my photos. For a long moment she’s quiet. Her brows draw together as she studies each shot with her professional eye. I grow nervous when I shouldn’t care. Why do I care? It’s not like I’ll ever have a photography career. But I want something…I want to be good at anything other than dying.
“They’re wonderful. The shading, color.”
She continues to look through the photos.
My relief is immediate. “Do you really think so?”
“Yes. Amazing.” She smiles a genuine smile that lights up her tired face. “Especially the people you photograph…you capture their very essence. Their souls.”
I flush with excitement. “Thank you.”
She hands me my phone. “Truly, Hope, I’m not lying to be nice.”
I slide my phone into my pocket. Maybe I will send the link to Gabrielle’s boyfriend. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“You need to submit them to contests. You need…”
But I barely hear her as I spot a man who looks incredibly like Christian near the castle. My heart leaps, wanting to race to him of its own accord, and leave me behind. Traitor. He’s standing behind the castle, on the raised grounds across the little moat from us. I lift my hand to wave to him, but he keeps looking at his phone, missing me.
“It’s Christian,” I explain.
“Oh, it is!”
We start toward the bridge to go after him, but as I’m about to cross, a woman comes running up behind him and throws her arms around his neck. I stumble. He turns into her embrace and her lips find his. They kiss. I freeze with one foot on the bridge, one on the ground. Tall, beautiful, blonde. I’m pretty sure it’s the woman I saw on his phone when we were on our first date.
“I’m sorry,” Jessica whispers. “It’s so not like him.”
I shrug and spin around, frantic to escape. “It’s fine.” I start quickly back the way we came. I’m not the kind of person who confronts issues. Instead, I tend to run from them. Except for death. I can’t run from that. “We didn’t say we were exclusive.”
Jessica scurries after me. “I swear it doesn’t seem like him. Not the Christian I know. Do you want me to talk—”
“No.” I force myself to smile even as my chest feels like it’s cracking wide open, the ribs breaking apart one by one. “Listen, we’ve been on three dates. I mean…two and then the dance club, which I guess wasn’t really a date. I’ve only known him ten days.” I rake my hands through my hair. Shit, my fingers are shaking. “I’m not…” I release a harsh laugh. “I don’t know what I am. God, I’m such an idiot.”
Jessica grabs my arm, forcing me to stop. “You’re not an idiot.”
Her loyalty is sweet, but she doesn’t get it. “When it comes to relationships, I’ve dated twice in my life. Two times. I don’t understand the rules, the ins and outs.”
“No. don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. He was all over you at the club. You weren’t imagining it. God, we all talked about it after you left.”
At least I know I’m not insane. I force myself not to look back at the castle. “It doesn’t matter because I didn’t want to get serious with him anyway. So maybe this is good.” I nod firmly. “Yes, it’s definitely good to end it now.”
But it doesn’t look like she believes me anymore than I believe myself. She slides her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s go get some lunch.”
I give her a stiff smile, but for the first time since arriving, my appetite has vanished.
****
“Brought you some tea,” Gabrielle leans over the back of the couch, handing me a mug. She’s been bringing me green tea nonstop since I told her about my illness. Probably heard it helps the immune system or something. You wouldn’t believe the amount of crap people try to force down my throat, claiming it the miracle cure.
I smile, even though I don’t like green tea. “Thanks.”
“Whatcha reading?” she asks.
I set my book down on the coffee table. “Bridgette Jones. Found it on the bookshelf, and thinking about how Daniel really should have been fired for sexual harassment.”
She settles at the other end of the couch. “Oh my God, I know! Was that seriously acceptable in the 90s?”
I snort. “It was acceptable last month.”
She grins as she leans back into her corner of the couch. But as the silence stretches, her smile fades and the awkwardness is back. “You okay?”
I cup the warm porcelain mug, trying to take comfort from the heat. It’s the tenth time she’s asked this afternoon. I don’t want to answer her question because I’m not okay. I’m so far removed from okay, and it has nothing to do with my illness. Yep, my brooding melancholy is all about Christian. The lying bastard who pretended he was perfect. The worst part is that I know I shouldn’t care. This was supposed to be a fling. One-night stand. No emotional attachments. But I thought…I thought I could trust him.
“Want sugar? Milk?” Gabrielle asks. “Honey?”
I smile kindly at her. “You don’t have to keep bringing me tea. I can get it myself.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She pauses, hesitating as if she doesn’t quite know what to do now. As if her one and only job was to bring me tea. Damn it all. She looks hurt. I’m being rude, taking my anger and frustration out on her. “Gabrielle, I didn’t want this. The entire reason I came here was because no one knew about my illness. Please. Can we go back to normal?”
She scoots closer to me. “I’m so sorry. I’m being a right git.”
“Yes, you are and thanks to Harry Potter, I know what that means.”
“Oh my god,” she jumps to her knees on the couch, nearly causing me to spill my tea. “I love Harry Potter! I am totally visiting you in Florida, and we’re going to Universal.”
I grin. Just like that, she’s back to normal. “Okay.”
“We’ll even dress up in robes!”
I laugh. A soft rain starts to patter against the windows. It’s comforting in some way. Cleansing. “Those robes are like a hundred bucks and Florida is way hot.”
“Ugh, right.” She leaps from the couch, and races to the windows, closing them. “Okay, instead we’ll wear a sexy costume. We’ll be sexy wizards with short skirts.”
“And find me a guy with a long, magical wand?” I say.
She laughs.
The thought of Gabrielle visiting me in Florida gives me something to look forward to. At least it should. But it’s been all day since I saw Christian kissing another woman, and I can’t get out of my funk. Why? Why am I so hurt? Because he lied or because I care? “So…I saw Christian in the park today.”
She sinks back into the couch. “By your expression I’m assuming it’s not good.”
Hell, are those tears stinging my eyes? No. No, I will not fucking cry. “He was kissing another woman.”
She stiffens. “He wasn’t!”
I nod. Her reaction is so comical that it makes me feel better. She jumps from the couch, muttering under her breath as she paces back and forth. I know her reaction and Jessica’s is twice as dramatic because they know I’m dying. How dare he cheat on a dying woman. But he doesn’t know. I can’t blame him for being that heartless…at least.
“What an idiot! He knows you go to that park.” She shakes her head. “Guys are so stupid.”
Maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he thought things were getting too serious. Maybe they were and this is a blessing in disguise. “Indeed.”
She settles on the couch again, closer to me, and rests her hand on my knee. Her body is warm and comforting. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. No. I’m not okay, and it angers and pains and frustrates me all at once. I shouldn’t have this damn ache in my chest. I shouldn’t care. “I should be, right? I mean I’ve known him like a week and a half. What did I expect? I just…didn’t think he’d lie to me. I asked him outright if he had a girlfriend, and he lied.”
I had asked him, hadn’t I? I mull over the memory, dissecting it, and realization dawns. Girlfriend. I asked him if he had a girlfriend. Maybe he hadn’t lied. Maybe she’s not his girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean he’s not dating other women on the side. I lean my head back against the cushions. I’m such an idiot. Maybe he knew what I was asking, maybe he didn’t. Maybe our cultures and language barrier got in the way. Do I even have a right to be angry? We never said we’d be exclusive.
“I’m so sorry, Hope. God, I’ll kill him if I see him.”
I laugh. “I appreciate that, but let’s not go to prison for my week-long relationship.”
“How could he do that to…”
Her face flushes. Guilty.
I quirk a brow as I lean over and pick up my camera that’s resting on the table. “To a dying woman?”
She nods miserably. “I forgot…he doesn’t know.” She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “That still doesn’t make it okay.”
She’s right. These games, relationships…I’m too inexperienced for this shit. Christian is like Don Juan and I’m more like a nun. The two don’t mix. But I’m sick of thinking about Christian and relationships. Gabrielle is as much of an expert in photography as I’m going to get. I’d rather talk about something that’s actually important.
“Let’s change the subject,” I say.
“Okay, how about your photography career? Are you finally going to let me look at your photos?” She snatches the camera from my hands before I can stop her. I bite back my reprimand. It’s silent for a while as she flips through my photos. I can see her studying them with a professional eye. Picking apart the details.
I can barely breathe as I wait.
She frowns at times, smiles at some. I wait impatiently, nibbling on my thumbnail when I’ve never chewed on my nails before. The rain hardens, pounding against the windows. As the minutes tick by, the more nervous I become.
Finally, she looks up, her eyes large and solemn. “I swear…stunning.” She shifts closer to me, her excitement palpable. “Do you want me to send some to my boyfriend? He’d totally tell you the truth, and might even be able to hook you up with some commissions.”
“Really?” Commissions? That’s like having a job. A job. Making money. I never thought I’d have a career. A career means sticking around. Having something to live for. Four years. Four years if I’m lucky. Why not work, why not enjoy my time? But photography is a peek into my soul. My thoughts. My worries. My desires. The idea of a professional photographer looking at them, makes me more than nervous.
“Sure,” I’m hesitant. “I mean…he can look at my Instagram account.”
“Okay, I’ll let him know!”
The buzzer rings, startling us both.
“Not for me, I don’t think.” She jumps from the couch and moves to the intercom. “Hello?”
“Is Hope there?”
I’m relieved and disappointed all at once when I hear Matias’ voice. Even after catching Christian kissing another woman, a little, pathetic part of me still hoped it was him. Damn it all, I’m not ready to let the guy go. I will not die one of those clingy, sobbing women who don’t know when to move on.
Gabrielle turns toward me. “Who is it?”
“Friend. Ex-boyfriend, actually.”
Her eyes go wide. “Ohhhh, this has taken an interesting turn.”
I shake my head. “I should’ve known this would happen.”
But I’m not inviting Matias up because I’m annoyed. I grab my umbrella and leave the apartment. How dare he check up on me. I head down the steps. How dare my mother send him. I shove open the door and step out into the rain. The weather has definitely taken a turn for the worse. I’m not surprised to see him, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept that he’s here, ruining my vacation of freedom.
He’s standing under the awning next door, shielded from the rain. Spotting me, he grins. My anger softens ever so slightly. When he starts toward me, that familiar confident stroll, I’m fighting my own smile.
“Here, let me help you.” He takes my umbrella and opens it, even though I’m completely capable. We stand together underneath the bit of protection. We’re close and he automatically wraps his arm around my waist. Damn it all, if I don’t sink into his warmth, but in my defense, it is chilly. And two weeks ago it would have felt natural. Now it feels…hell, if feels like I’m cheating on Christian.
“What are you doing here?” I snap out a little harsher than I intended.
“Wow, that was not the response I was expecting.” Matt steps back, taking his warmth with him. “My dad had some sort of governmental thing nearby and I thought I’d stop to see you. Do you not want me here?”
He looks hurt, damn it all. I won’t fall for those puppy-dog eyes. “And my mother made you come check on me.”
He presses his hand to his chest, even as he flushes with guilt. “I swear I’m telling the truth. My dad did have a conference and I was planning to visit. But yes…your mom asked me to check on you.”
“She knows my cousin isn’t coming until Norway?”
He smiles a sheepish grin. “Was not happy.” He takes my hand, his grip strong, sure and familiar. “Let’s get tea. Or I can come up…”
I sigh and slide my arm through his. “Café on the corner.”
Despite the fact that he’s checking up on me like I’m a child, I can’t deny that it’s nice to see him. Hell, maybe I should be losing my virginity to him. Maybe it was supposed to happen with Matias all along. I wanted it to be impersonal, no attachments, but that didn’t work. Perhaps it would be better with someone I know, someone I love, even if I’m not in love with him.
We head to the café where I offered Christian the almond covered pastries. Inside it’s as crowded as ever. As we order, I tell him about my trip. He listens carefully, like he always does. Like I’m the only person in the room. A long time ago I thought I was special, until I realized he listened like that to everyone. Politician’s son. Still, just being in his presence calms me, for some reason.
“Two days,” he explains. “We leave tomorrow for Amsterdam. It’s a meeting to discuss global warming. An environmental pledge.”
As we sit at a little table and talk, my anger and annoyance fade. I realize I do miss him. Although he’s listening to me as intently as always, I can feel the disconnect between us. I’m not sure when it started, but it’s so obvious now that I’m surprised I hadn’t noticed it before. He has his life. I have mine. He’s leaving me behind already. I can feel it.
He’s seen so much of the world. Is smart, caring. He’s going to have an amazing life…without me. And part of me feels slightly panicked by the idea that he might disappear from my life. That part of me wants to desperately cling to him. He’s my anchor, and if he disappears I do too.
He’s so strong and handsome and tanned next to these pale people that he stands out. I notice more than one woman glance his way. I could have him. I could reel him back in with just a word because he is that loyal, and a selfish part of me wants to.
Matt wouldn’t cheat on me. Why did I break up with him? I smile as he tells me about my mom freaking out when she heard my cousin wasn’t going to be in Denmark. He does the perfect impression of our parents.
I shake my head, annoyed and amused. “I’ve been texting. Not like I’ve gone missing.”
He grins. “You look amazing, by the way. Healthy, you have color to your face, you’ve gained weight. Honestly, I barely recognized you.”
His compliment makes me blush. “Thanks. I feel good.” I hesitate, trying to find the words to explain how, exactly, I feel. “More than good. I feel—”
“Hope?”
I’m torn from my thoughts as reality comes crashing down. Christian stands near our table. That lop-sided smile is in place. My heart skips a beat and soars. While I felt happy to see Matt on my doorstep, it wasn’t this pure bliss I feel at seeing Christian. And…guilt. Why do I feel guilty? Because Christian’s gaze immediately goes to Matt. Damn it all, Christian and I aren’t dating. We aren’t exclusive. I have no reason to feel guilty.
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Christian…hi.”
Matt stiffens. Christian stiffens. It’s like I’m no longer here. Just two guys ready to stake out their territory. I’ve suddenly become a prize, not a person. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Men. Really, I don’t need either of them, thank you very much.
“This is Matt. My…friend.”
“Boyfriend,” Matt snaps, annoying me.
Dear god, this is ridiculous.
“Ex-boyfriend,” I add, although why, I’m not sure. It’s not that I care about Christian’s feelings, it’s that I don’t appreciate Matt’s possessiveness. At least that’s what I tell myself.
But it doesn’t seem to matter what I say. Realization inches slowly across Christian’s gorgeous face. I can actually see the understanding as it dawns. He knows Matt is my one serious ex. His gaze grows cold, brittle. I’m surprised and intrigued by the shift that comes over him.
“I see,” he says.
Seriously? He’s angry? Did I not just see him kissing some woman in the park? But of course I can’t say that in front of Matt. Matt would kill him for hurting me. Somehow I’ve pissed off two guys when I haven’t even done anything wrong. I’m not sure who I’m angrier with, Christian for being a typical guy when he’d tricked me into thinking he was better, or Matt for interrupting my trip and making me second-guess our relationship.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Christian asks, his gaze finally on me.
Yep, I’m still here. “Sure.”
I give Matt a warning glance as I stand. He reads it loud and clear, and relaxes back into his chair, although I can tell it’s with reluctance. I don’t need a hero to come to my rescue. I weave my way through the café, following Christian outside. My heart is hammering so loudly I can barely hear anything else.
He faces me as we huddle over an overhang. “So…are you dating him again?”
It takes everything in my power not to touch him. Even now…while I’m angry, hurt, I swear I can still feel that connection between us. The electricity. It’s so damn hard to ignore. “No. I’ve known Matt since middle school. He just showed up.”
And even as I try and explain myself, I get angry. Really angry. I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ward off the chill. Who the hell is he to question me? Who the hell is he to take me on the perfect date to a castle, no less, and then kiss another woman? Suddenly, I want to hurt him. I want him to hurt like I hurt.
“I see,” he says, but he still looks confused.
“Christian, I’m leaving in a few days. I thought we were just having fun.”
Something flashes in his eyes. Surprise? Pain? It makes me feel immediately guilty when it shouldn’t. I squash down the guilt. He was the one kissing another. He stuffs his hands into his jean pockets.
Even if our relationship had been serious, it doesn’t matter because it’s true…I am leaving soon. And maybe, just maybe, it’s better to end things now. Here.
He nods slowly and gives me a stiff smile. “Right.” He steps back, into the rain, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I wanted to hurt him, push him away, and I have. “Well then, if I don’t see you again…have a great trip.”
The same words he said to me at the tower on our first date. But now I know he means it. With that said, he turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd of people scurrying to find shelter, and I’m left to bite back my desire to call out to him, to explain.
I shiver, although not from the cold. I know I’ve destroyed whatever relationship we had. I shouldn’t care. I’ve only known him a week and a half. I turn toward the small café window and see Matt waiting for me. It was never my intention to get serious with Christian. I shouldn’t care.
Damn it all…but I do.