“Eat a lot in India, and laugh even more in South Korea, and remember to keep warm in Russia. Wherever you go after that, be safe, stay healthy, and when you are ready to return home…come back to me. I will be here. In a year, in five, or ten, or twenty years, I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come back to me.”
Her body partially turned.
And partially I hoped.
But she just kept walking away.
“Are you—”
“No,” I said to Ian, handing him the cup of coffee she'd given me as her parting present. “I’m not all right.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Hero and the Heroine
Guinevere
I felt sick. With each step I took across the airport, my heart ached, but I kept walking, pulling my suitcase behind me as I went.
This was right.
This would be great for my career.
It’s what I’d always wanted.
Why does it feel like I’m trying to convince myself? It’s the truth! I love what I do and now I get to take photos all over the world. Places I have always dreamed of were just one plane ride away and yet I wanted to—
“Gwen?”
Turning around, Bash smiled brightly, a plane ticket in his hand, his jacket casually laid over his arm. I couldn’t do this.
“Bash—”
“I know. You hate me right now, and you should, but we fell in love through your art once, and I’m not going to deny that I hope it happens again because you are the—”
“Bash. I forgive you.” I smiled, facing him. “And I don’t hate you. Hating you makes me tired. But you need to understand I don’t feel the same. There isn’t any art in the world that can change that. I’m not going to rebuild us, so please let me go.”
Before he could reply, I felt a shiver go up my spine at the voice behind me.
“Guinevere.”
I didn’t turn around, gripping on to the handle of my suitcase.
“Guinevere.”
He called again, his voice closer.
I glanced up to Bash, and the look on his face made me want to laugh, yet for some stupid reason, my eyes began to water.
“How did you even get here?” Bash questioned.
Eli simply ignored him. “Guinevere…I’ll wait,” he said calmly.
Taking a deep breath, I partially turned back to him. He stood there in blue scrubs, his dark hair a mess, his eyes only on me. When I faced him completely, the corners of his mouth turned up slowly until he had a full blown grin on his face and his smile made me smile, I couldn’t help it.
“Don’t look at me like that.” It made me feel better and hurt all at the same time.
“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he replied, taking a step closer to me. “Yesterday you asked me to love you enough to let you go and I did, because I never want to stop you from doing what you want. I thought I could bear it. Actually I’m a little embarrassed because I even gave you that stupid speech about being happy, but I’m a lot more selfish than I thought. When I woke up this morning I realized I didn’t want you to be happy without me because I’m not happy without you. I get why you’re scared, but trust in the fact that I love you in ways I can’t even describe though I wish I could, because then I’d know why I can’t think straight when we are in the same room. Don’t run from me Guinevere. Love me enough to stay.”