She couldn’t let herself think too hard or it’d just hurt too much. Imagining him angry or hateful was something she didn’t even want to fathom right now. All she could do was try to put one foot in front of the other, pull up one more breath and one more after that.
She laid back down in the bed and put the passport on the pillow beside her and stared at his picture for a long time.
“Can you still feel me?” she asked the picture, “I miss you but I had to...” She tried to send love and apologies out into the universe through her mind. Who knew if it’d work and even if it did, what would it change? Nothing, probably. A dull snaking ache slowly worked its way through her veins.
She snapped the paper booklet shut and slid it under the pillow her head was on. She drifted off to sleep for another half a day, her hand on top of the passport.
After waking she got dressed and decided to try to push the despair she felt away for now and head out and take a walk and buy some groceries and Advil to combat the never-ending headache, and hopefully the ache in her veins. She’d hardly eaten since leaving him and caffeine and meal replacement shakes just weren’t cutting it any longer.
Tristan’s bug-out bag had a combined total of $50K in it. She felt awful about having his money and had spent only around $3K Canadian so far, and most of it was on travelling expenses. She didn’t like carrying that much cash with her but she didn’t know where she was going, so where would she keep it? She had her own bank card in her purse and had thought about withdrawing the $4,317 she’d saved up toward school but hadn’t thought about that until she’d gotten out of the province. Now it seemed dangerous to use it as it’d be a potential breadcrumb.
Some of her RV’ing neighbours were trying to engage her in conversation as she strolled out to catch the bus but she gave quick answers and avoided long conversations, declining two offers: one from a retired couple on one side who’d asked her to come for a barbeque and the other from a young couple with a little baby who invited her to a campfire and for a few glasses of wine. Both were on vacation and looking to be friendly, but she felt like she had to emit a hermit demeanour. She was polite but not overly friendly and said she was just seeing the country and staying for a few days and that she was unavailable that night.
She didn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention. Anyone could be a vampire. She knew that sounded like a crazy, paranoid way to think but that was the way she had to think right now. Maybe she should rent a remote cabin on the other side of the island and get away from people altogether for a little while.
Now that she wasn’t bleeding, maybe there was less risk. She didn’t know if there would be less risk around him or if what had happened had changed the dynamic of their connection forever.
Her scent clearly had an effect on Sam, too, which was odd, since she’d been having her period monthly since she was 12 years old and had obviously been in crowded places where someone could’ve been a vampire. She didn’t want to panic but wondered if now she’d have to sequester herself now for each and every Shark Week.
Had the genesis of her connection to Tristan made the nectar instantly discoverable to other vampires? That had plagued her all the way here, through flights, bus rides, and boat rides.
She had been able to leave him, despite the bond. She figured that was a sign that she still had at least some of her own mind, which was a relief in one sense because it meant she hadn’t totally lost it but then in another sense it made things hurt even more because she knew her feelings for him must be real because she was able to walk away and yet distance hadn’t changed how she felt.
Clearly, by the detox side-effects she had, there were residual addiction issues but whatever the cause it didn’t matter because whatever caused the feelings and attraction and addiction, it fucking hurt. It hurt deep. Deeper than cravings and deeper than the pain in her veins.
Whether it started because of his vampire charms and his looks and his talents in bed or not, and even if that bond cemented only because of the chemical reaction between them, she missed him right now and knew she would never ever feel what she’d felt with him with any other man. Ever. It just wasn’t possible for her to have that depth of emotion for another individual, human or otherwise, real or brainwashed. The feelings he’d brought out in her had somehow given her hope about her prince, her ability to embrace emotion, hope for a happily ever after.