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“Sure—we can visit the cats where Julius Caesar was murdered,” he suggests. I narrow my eyes. I’m sure he’s trolling me, but what’s with the cats all of a sudden?
“Did you miss the part where I hate cats?” I growl, laughing.
“I thought it was allergies,” he teases.
Shit. “You’d hate something you were allergic to as well, right?” I retort, blushing about being caught out in a lie.
“I might also lie about being allergic to get my way,” he teases, nudging me in the side.
I laugh and nudge him back.
“You can be very violent, Miss Camden. Fine: so no cats. Got it. What now, then?”
“Sleep.” I grin. As much as I don’t want to call it a day, I know I need to be smart and not burn myself out. I ask him to take me back to the hotel.
We have an early train ride tomorrow, and I’m exhausted from all the walking we did today. Maybe walking the Spanish Steps wasn’t my greatest idea, but it was worth it.
I forgo dinner in favour of just curling up in bed. I ache everywhere, and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. Picking up my phone, I feel a pang of guilt. There is a text from Calli.
Calli: I miss my little sister.
It was only sent minutes ago, so I know she’s still awake. I press Call, feeling strangely nervous as I wait for her to answer. Every day I think about my family, but make excuses about calling.
“Hey, Panda. I thought you’d forgotten us,” she says when she answers.
“As if I could,” I scoff. The twinge of guilt gets stronger. “I’m just so busy and it’s never the right time…”
“I’d rather you call at three in the morning than not at all,” she says. “Having fun?”
“I’m having a blast.” I grin.
“And Cade? Happy with that choice?” she teases.
“Incredibly happy,” I agree. “This is costing me a fortune, Cal. I’ll call you in a few days. Promise.”
“Okay, Panda. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I mumble.
I put the phone on charge and settle under the covers, wiping away tears. I do wish she was here with me. I miss her more than I thought I would, and that was a lot. She couldn’t come. Not if you still want that door slightly open. Rolling over, I sigh. What hurts the most is not knowing if I’ll be seeing her again.
The next morning, I lug my packed bags down to the lobby to meet Cade. He yells at me for not letting him collect them from my room, but I shrug him off. I’m feeling good today—good enough to carry my own luggage.
We make our way down the street towards the station, and wait for our nine a.m. train to Venice. The first week has gone so fast that it reminds me how precious time is. In the blink of an eye, a week has gone. I feel like the end is approaching way too fast, and at the same time I’m excited for the next leg of our trip. The reality is, six months is not long when it’s all you have. Maybe if I wasn’t enjoying myself as much, time would slow down.
No. Quality over quantity. A perfect month is better than a shitty year.
I’ve wanted to see Venice ever since my dad brought me home a mask from a business trip when I was seven. White and silver, the intricate beading and perfectly placed feathers made me feel like a princess. I still have it, tucked away in my closet.
At the station, Cade talks me into first-class tickets, and once we board I’m glad I listened. I sit back in my seat, reclining the back, and close my eyes.
“Not bad, huh? It’s worth the extra cost, considering it’s not really that much more expensive.”
“You remember that from when you were a kid?” I ask, impressed.
“It’s amazing what sticks in your memory,” he chuckles.
I smile. It’s the first sign of happiness I’ve seen from him today, and I like it. I’ll keep pushing him until I see more of that side of him break through. It’s the tiny, happy things that make me smile the most, moments that would be insignificant to anyone else that make me excited to be alive. With Cade they don’t happen nearly enough, and I get the feeling there is more to his story than he wants to share with me.
