“I told you, Ava”—Hal smiles—“it’s not the same thing as death.”
“I don’t care,” I tell him. “You’re my friend and you’re not doing it alone.”
“Very well,” Hal says. “I agree to your terms. I’ll decide after you’ve won the competition.”
“Oh, it might not be me,” I say. “I really think Forrest is in with a shot.”
“What do you want to do now?” Hal asks. “I think FreeThought is as ready as it can be for tomorrow, so you have some spare time. How would you like to spend it?”
“Right now I’d like to sit here and watch this heartbeat,” I tell him, nodding at the replica organ. Hal pats a seat next to him and I slide onto the stool.
Silence settles over us and together we contemplate the mysteries of the human heart, and the whole universes of possibility that one constantly beating muscle can contain.
Chapter Fifty-One
“Barbeque and wedding leftovers,” LadyB tells me when we run into each other in the great hall, as I’m making my way back to my room. “Thought we’d make the most of the weather and have a nice, low-key evening before all the glitz and glamour of tomorrow. No need to dress for dinner tonight.”
“Sounds great,” I say. “Love leftovers and elasticated waists.”
“Yes, and there is surplus champagne too,” LadyB says. “Perhaps after a glass or two you can give us some more of your tips on relationships as after-dinner entertainment,” LadyB calls after me as I start up the stairs.
“Ha. Ha,” I say. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“No, darling,” she says. “You never are, you wonderful creature.”
Then as I turn the corner into my bedroom hallway, I see Forrest standing outside my bedroom door, looking like he’s thinking about whether or not to knock. My heart starts, and I force myself not to run in the opposite direction. I am a grown-up. This is a grown-up situation. I shall approach it in a mature and sophisticated way. I can bawl my eyes out later.
“Forrest?” I say as I approach. He turns toward me and looks alittle startled, and a little flustered, embarrassed even. I go for dignified and regal, detached and aloof. “Are you looking for me?”
“Yes,” he says. “Can we talk?”
“Why, of course,” I say, lifting my chin a little, opening my bedroom door and inviting him in. It’s very important I don’t look directly at him. Looking directly at him might result in me flinging myself at him, and that would never do. The room is flooded with early evening light, warm and dreamy. Forrest paces over to the window, and then to the mantelpiece, and then back to the window.
“I can’t believe that I haven’t seen you all day,” he says. “Sorry about that. I knew that tonight we wouldn’t be able to talk, and I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea, you know, the wrong impression. I wanted to be clear that...”
“Forrest, it’s okay,” I tell him, doing my best to be mature and detached. “I get it. I understand, of course I do.”
“Do you?” Forrest takes a step towards me and then pauses. “Just to be clear, what exactly do you get?”
“We had a great night together, I have no regrets. But I know you and Artie will be going back to the US soon, and that you’re not looking for anything more than a lovely fling. You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to have a breakdown and cry like a baby. I’m not going to fling myself at you, embarrass or stalk you or...”
“You’re not?” Forrest says.
“No.” I do my best to be dignified. “I enjoyed what we shared very much, and I wish you all the best for the future.”
“You wish me all the best for the future?” Forrest repeats.
“Yes,” I say, wishing he’d just take my word for it and go away so I can have a breakdown and cry like a baby. “Like I said, youdon’t have to worry about me being an emotional mess. I’ve got it all under control.”
“Well, good,” Forrest says. “Because I haven’t. I am a total emotional mess, Ava.”
“You mean youdoregret what happened?” I ask, scared of the answer.
“No, because I don’t regret it at all, not one little bit. Because it was the most amazing night of my life, in so many ways. I mean the ghost stuff was life-changing, but the being naked with you stuff was like... wow.”
“Wow. Poor effort for a poet,” I say, wondering if this is going where I think it might be going, not daring to believe that it could.
“I’m sorry, you do leave me dumbstruck.” Forrest looks at Cecily’s portrait as he searches for the right words. “I know it’s crazy complicated, and that we live on the other side of the Atlantic from each other. I have Artie to think about, your whole life is here, and maybe I haven’t had the same impact on you as you’ve had on me. There’s every chance you’re going to tell me to pull myself together and get out, but I have to take the risk and put it out there. I can’t stop thinking about you, Ava, and I think... I think maybe I might be falling in love with you.”
