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“Would you ever go back?” I add.
“Maybe for a visit. I’ve made friends there,” Rachel said. “But I don’t think I’ll live there again. It was wonderful, but I belong here.”
The idea that she won’t leave makes me giddy. I stop myself from getting too mushy—I’m Blake Ford and I usually have a stony façade. But this isn’t the first time since I met Rachel that I act differently than usual.
And I like how she affects me.
She starts to tell me what her life was like in Europe, and I hang on her every word. I love listening to the sound of her voice, to the way she tells me about the things that were important to her.
I could listen to her forever.
The moment I think aboutforever,my stomach twists and turns and panic sets in.
I promptly shove it away.
Not now. I’ll worry about that when I’m back home and I have the time to reevaluate how I feel. Right now, I want to live in the moment and spend as much time with Rachel as I can.
That’s all I intend to do. Nothing else matters but Rachel.
I had a chef prepare us a three-course meal, and every bite of it is divine. While we eat, we make small talk. Rachel tells me about her parents and how they keep moving from one country to the next. She talks about her sisters, about not having a lot of contact with them.
She tells me about Samantha and Alex, the twins who are more like family to her than her real siblings.
I find myself envious of her life—she has so many people around her who’s cared about her, her whole life. I haven’t had that. The closest thing I had to someone who cares is Emma, who’s been there for me through it all. But I’m very aware that I still pay her.
Not that I think she’s sticking around just for the money. But it’s different than family, being there no matter what.
My mom was there for me as a kid, but when she wouldn’t leave for me… she made it clear who she chose.
“Are you okay?” Rachel asks, bringing me back to the present.
“I was just thinking about the past,” I say.
Rachel shakes her head and stands. She walks around the table and offers me a hand.
“Dance with me,” she says.
I take her hand and we walk to the small space next to the table. I wrap my arms around her, and she pulls herself tightly against me. She looks up into my eyes while we gently sway to the music.
“I know the past was tough. I don’t ever want to make you think that it doesn’t matter. But you get to choose, you know. You can let it define you, or let it shape you.”
I purse my lips together. I don’t like getting lectured. She’s right, but I don’t like it.
“Let’s always look forward,” Rachel says. “No matter what comes. Because all that stuff from the past… it will stay back there.”
I want to ask her how she knows. I want to ask her if she can be sure that I won’t ever do anything. What if I drink too much, or get really angry, or… I don’t even know what would push me to the point of hurting her.
I just can’t take that risk.
“Hey,” Rachel says and gently cups my cheek. “It’s okay.”
Before I can say anything, she kisses me. I let go of everything and throw myself into the kiss. Intoher.
Because right here, right now, everything is fine. And I’m going to drink that in for as long as I possibly can.
Thunder rumbles up above, and out of nowhere, rain starts pissing down.
I break the kiss and look up.
