“Are you cold?” He starts to take his jacket off.
“I’m fine. It’s just my hair,” I say, stopping him. “Do you think we come back? After we die?”
“I do,” he says. He studies my face, his eyes intense. “It can’t just end like that. I think we die, we’re born again, and we die. The cycle continues. Do you ever have moments where you feel like a situation is familiar? Like you’ve been somewhere, or met someone before, even though you know that’s not possible? I think we cross paths with our loved ones again and again, and little things spark a kind of response in us.”
“That’s a nice way of thinking about it,” I say with a small smile. “It’s not death itself I fear, it’s the thought of losing contact with the people that I love. So to think that we cross paths again is pretty comforting.” I give him a shy grin. “You’re really easy to talk to. I feel I can tell you anything. My family go into meltdown whenever I mention dying.”
“I can understand that.” He nods. “And I can also understand how talking about it is something that you need to be able to do. I’m glad I can help.”
We arrive back at the hotel. It’s been a big day, and all I really want to do is go to sleep. I’m exhausted, and my headache is worsening by the second. Cade leaves me at my door. I go inside and crawl into bed, certain I’ll be asleep within minutes.
Chapter Fifteen
Cade
“Tell me about Bella.”
I turn to Erin. Where do I even begin?
“Where did you meet?” she asks, as if reading my mind.
We are lying on the roof of our hotel in Barcelona, nearly two weeks into our trip. After finally leaving Italy, the relaxed and laid-back feel of Spain is a welcome change. We spent yesterday in Madrid after flying in there, and I wish that she had arranged an extra night there rather than coming straight to Barcelona.
After having dinner and margaritas at a little outdoor tapas bar that we found opposite the beach, we’re back at the hotel, on the roof, enjoying watching the sunset.
The rooftop is the only nice thing about this hotel, but I’d book it again just for that. If you stand in the corner, you have a panoramic view of everything Barcelona has to offer. That, combined with the gorgeous purple-and-orange sky, makes it one of the most spectacular places I’ve seen. It would be the perfect place if you wanted to impress a girl—minus the uncomfortable and cramped rooms. I glance over at Erin and smile. I can’t think of anyone else I would rather be here with.
I have to admit, I’m having a blast. But more than, that I’m surprised at the level that we are connecting on. I came into this not sure what to expect, but this wasn’t it. I wasn’t expecting to be challenged like she challenges me. I wasn’t expecting it to be so easy to distract myself from my problems. I wasn’t excepting to like her this much. I’d convinced myself that her dying meant she would be hard to be around, but the opposite is true. Her sense of humour and positive outlook are infectious, and they just make you want more. How much more I want scares me, because I’m not sure where it will end.
This is the longest I’ve gone without placing a bet in months. It’s hard, I won’t deny that, but I just tell myself that there are bigger things to deal with in the world at the moment, which outweigh my problems. What scares me is what happens after this. What do I do after Erin? How do I move on from that? Only I can’t talk to her about that because that’s the whole reason she needed to get away in the first place—to escape that pressure.
“In high school,” I say, answering her question. “She transferred to my school in year seven. We got paired up for science and became friends from there.”
“Did you date?” she asks.
I laugh. “Teenage me only wishes. No, I spent most of my high school years pissed at my brother for dating the girl I was in love with.”
“Harsh.” She winces. “Did he know how you felt?”
“Everyone knew how I felt,” I say with a rueful grin. “I wasn’t the best at hiding my feelings. My father called me a pussy and told me to move on.”
“I’m not sure how you did it. I don’t think I could be friends with someone I felt that way about. Not being able to be close to them…” She shakes her head. “You’re stronger than me.”
“I’m not sure I’d call it a strength,” I reply. “We’re still friends because a part of me always held hope that she’d come to her senses and realise I’m a much better fit for her.” In my eyes I call that weak and stupid.
She hesitates, and glances at me. “It’s probably not my place to say this, but if getting her pregnant doesn’t make her see that…” Her voice trails off and she winces, like she can’t believe she actually said that to my face. I’m not fazed, though, because it’s true and I know it.
“You’re right and I know you’re right, but telling myself that and acting on it are two different things. I wish I could move on. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier. Come to think of it, I wish I could move on from my family too,” I joke.
“I don't believe you mean that,” she laughs. “I get that family be can be difficult, but they’re still just that: family.” She pauses, her expression thoughtful. “I don't think I've ever felt like I wish that I didn't have my family around. Not for a second.”
“Yes, but you haven't met my family,” I say with a grin. “Reserve judgment until you do.”
“It can't be that bad,” she says. “I think everyone thinks they hate their family—”
“Except you,” I cut in with a smirk on my lips.
“Except me,” she agrees, rolling her eyes. “But imagine life without them. Is that really something you want?”