“Yeah what?”
“If I get emotional, will you hold my hand?”
Oh man, how freaking sweet. I want to tell her I want to hold her hand even if she’s not emotional, but I’m sure that’ll repulse her and ruin our friendship. I almost lost her once, I’m not prepared for that to happen again. “Absolutely.” I’d love to more than you know.
“Thank you.” She smiles warmly at me. “Let’s go.”
We get out of the car, and head inside.
When we get inside and start looking around, I notice Becky dipping her hand inside her bag, then bringing it out again. I didn’t think much of it, until I saw her chewing on something. “You’re hungry right?” I say to her as we approach a mummy’s sarcophagus, which is standing upright, facing visitors.
“Huh?” She shoves more of whatever’s in her bag into her mouth as fast as possible.
It takes a second for it to click in my head, but the way she’s secretly eating, and when I caught her, how fast she shoved it in there, I think it’s the bagel from this morning. “Oh my God, I thought you weren’t going to eat that second bagel.”
“What bagel?” She lifts what’s left and eats it.
“You’re unbelievable,” I say shaking my head at her.
“Can’t let it go to waste. It’s food and I’m hungry. And thank you.” She smiles at me. “For saying I’m unbelievable.”
“I didn’t mean it in a good way.” Although, she really is unbelievably funny, and gorgeous, and so damn sweet.
“I don’t care how you meant it, I took it in a good way.” And sassy. “Oh, look, a mummy’s tomb.” She gets sidetracked so easily sometimes.
“Yeah, it’s really big.” It stands up against the wall, and its size is quite impressive. I wonder if the person who was buried inside it was as large as his sarcophagus.
“Oh my God,” Becky whispers. “Look.” The tomb wall installed behind the sarcophagus has intricate carvings and painted symbols all over it. On the right side, near the tip of the lid, there’s a carving of a pyramid. “She wanted to touch a pyramid.” The exhibit isn’t behind rope, but there’s a sign saying not to touch it. “She wanted to touch a pyramid, Elijah,” she whispers again, but this time looks around us to make sure no one can see her.
She lifts her hand, ever so slowly, and touches the indents where the pyramid has been carved out. She runs her finger, delicately over the grooves, all the time smiling while her eyes glisten with tears.
“Here,” she says and grabs my hand. She links our fingers together, bringing them up to the carving and runs our hands, together over the artwork. “It’s like she’s here,” she whispers.
It is like Alice is here. She wanted to touch a pyramid, and we’re doing it for her.
I look at Becky, although she’s crying, I can tell they’re tears of joy, not sadness.
Both Becky and I are completely lost in the moment. Right now, there’s no one in the room with us. No other people milling around, no rules, no signs. It’s just Becky, Alice, and me. We’re touching the pyramid, something Alice wanted to do, but never got a chance.
“No touching the exhibits,” a security guard barks from behind us. We pull our linked hands away, and look over our shoulder to the guard standing only a few feet away. He’s got an angry scowl on his face, but when he sees Becky’s crying, his eyes squint. He turns and leaves us, and I pull Becky into my arms.
She doesn’t need to tell me how she’s feeling. I already know. It’s the same way I’m feeling. We’re happy, but we both miss Alice.
Yesterday ended up being really emotional. From the moment we were told not to touch the exhibit, it all became quite overwhelming. I thought I was going to be able to handle it, but as it turned out, I couldn’t.
We came back to the room, and I collapsed onto the bed, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Thankfully, Elijah recognized how stressed I was and lay on the bed behind me, holding me.
I started feeling guilty because I shouldn’t want him to hold me like he did, but truth be told, I liked it. I ended up falling asleep in his arms, forgoing dinner.
We woke up in exactly the same position. I know I was exhausted, and I’m sure Elijah was too. We wanted to honor Alice, and we did. But it was emotionally wrenching.
Elijah and I are spending the day at the beach. He told me he had a surprise for me for this evening.
“We’ll have to head back to the hotel soon,” Elijah says as he checks the time on his phone.
“Why? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin?”
He smiles at me. “No, I’m afraid you’ll starve if you don’t eat soon,” he retorts with a smartass tone.
“Well played, Mr. Sex-on-Legs.”
“Will you stop calling me that?”
“But you are.” I sit up from where I was tanning my back. “All the girls at school think you are.”
“I don’t care what they think,” he snaps at me. “I just don’t care.” He towel-dries himself from his swim.
I never thought he’d be so upset by me calling him Mr. Sex-on-Legs, but now that I know how much it affects him, I’ll stop. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” But his guard is up, and I instantly feel terrible because I’ve made him feel bad. “Are you ready to go? We have somewhere we have to be at seven.”
“Seven?” I lean over and grab my phone, flicking the screen to life to see the time. “That’s hours away.” I stand and shake out the towel, getting rid of all the sand. “Why do we have to go now?”
“Because we both still need to shower, and get dressed and we’re going out for dinner first.”
“Are you going to tell me what the surprise is? And where are we going for dinner? I thought we were going to get room service.” He shrugs his shoulders casually, but smiles. Oh God, there’s that cute dimple again. “I think you should tell me.” We start walking back to the hotel and I look away from him, avoiding his cute dimple.
“I will.”
“Yay!” I clap my hands together.
“When we get where we’re going.”
“Great,” my enthusiasm drops in my tone, but I love how he’s surprising me.
We get up to the hotel room, and I head into the shower first because I need to wash my hair. When I get out of the shower, Elijah is nowhere to be found. What I notice is the line of pillows down the middle of the bed, dividing us again.
My heart sinks. I thought there was something new between us. A bond, an intense connection we were building on. Obviously, that was all in my head.
I head out to the balcony, unable to look at the physical wall he’s erected between us, and look up to the sky. “Alice, if you’re listening, I just need a sign. Something to tell me you’re okay with this.” Leaning my elbows against the railing, I drop my head into my hands. “Show me something . . . anything. I need to know you’re not feeling betrayed.”
Of course, there’s no sign. Nothing happens. Why would it? Do people actually believe in signs? Am I being stupid when I say I do? I look up and stare at the small sliver of water I can see from the balcony.
There’s heaviness in my heart and soul. It’s dark and cumbersome and it’s sucking every positive emotion out of me. I’m struggling so much with what I’m feeling for Elijah.
We’re each other’s lifeline to Alice. We both love her so much, both for different reasons. I know it’s wrong for me to have these feelings, especially when I know they’re not being reciprocated, but it’s not like I can turn them off.
I don’t want to lose the connection we share either. I can’t risk doing something stupid like kissing him, because if he leaves, then my connection with him is gone. I have to put my big girl panties on and push past the emotions and feelings bubbling up. If I keep burying them, then one day they’ll be suppressed so far down that hopefully this whole situation will be forgotten.
“Hey, you’ve had a shower,” his deep, sexy-as-sin voice brushes over my skin.
So much for that.
He looks me up and down and smiles. “You look really beautiful,” he says. I love the way he looks at me. I can tell he appreciates what he sees.
“Thank you.” It hurts too much to stick around out here and talk to him, so I head back inside.
Going directly to the bathroom, I lock the door and lean my hands on the basin. Looking up at the mirror, I catch sight of my reflection. My eyes are red-rimmed, and tears are gathering. But I can’t let this affect me. I have to move on. He doesn’t want me.
It takes me a few moments to blow dry my hair, and when I come out Elijah is sitting on the bed waiting for me to leave the bathroom so he can have a shower.
He stands and moves past me, but not before catching me by my upper arm. “We okay?” his voice is oozing concern.
“Yeah, we’re good.” I plaster a fake smile on my face. “I’ve got to do my make-up.”
He lets go of my arm, picks his clothes up and heads into the shower.
By the time my make-up is done, he’s come out of the bathroom dressed in nice black slacks, paired with a crisp gray shirt. He’s got the most amazing eyes, and when he wears gray, it makes them pop even more than normal.
He looks at me as I touch up my lipstick and takes in a ragged breath. “Wow,” he whispers. “You’re gorgeous.”
I know he means the words, but it does nothing to bridge the gap in my broken heart. “Thank you.”
“You ready?” he asks once he’s put his shoes on.
“Yeah, I am.” I slip on a pair of short heels and we head out the door.
We get to the elevator and I press the button. We’re both unusually quiet. Normally, we’d be talking about virtually everything; but at the moment, I’m feeling deflated, rejected.
The elevator door opens. A lady and her young daughter are standing in the lift. Her daughter has long, dark brown hair, and she moves to stand right beside her mom.
The little girl is wearing a pink tutu, and is holding a fairy wand in her free hand. She looks so gorgeous, in her tutu. She has big green eyes, and the chubbiest little cheeks. When we enter, she stares at Elijah, and smiles at him.
“Alley-cat, eyes at the front,” her mom says.
My heart skips a beat, my skin pebbles as a bolt of ice shoots straight through me. “Alley-cat?” I whisper in question and move closer to Elijah.
“Sorry?” her mom asks turning to look at me.
“You call your daughter, Alley-cat? Such a beautiful nickname.” My voice is hoarse, I can barely ask the question through the rock like lump sitting inside my throat.
“Her name’s Alice, but we call her Alley-cat.”
I move my hand down, and grab Elijah’s. “You’re so pretty. I love your skirt,” Elijah says to her, and winks.
The little girl gives him a toothy smile, and huddles closer to her mom.
“Have a good night,” the mom says once the doors open.
“You too,” Elijah responds.
I’m too shocked to say anything. Instead I just stand in the elevator, looking at the sweetest little ballerina walk away.
Slowly, Elijah and I walk out, but I can’t go on anymore. “Her name is Alice,” I look up to Elijah and whisper. “And her mom calls her Alley-cat.”
“I know.” He’s looking down at me.
“She was wearing a tutu.” He nods his head. “She’s trying to tell us something,” I whisper.
He tightens his grip around my hand. A pulsating spark shoots up between us. The heaviness I was feeling, that soul-consuming darkness lifts, and I feel as if Alice gave me her sign. Gave us her sign.
Elijah stands in front of me, and weaves his fingers through my loose hair. His palms rest on my face. This gesture is incredibly intimate. I crave it, I want more from him. “Tonight, she’s with us.” Just hearing him say those words tells me how much this entire weekend means to him. He leans in and kisses my forehead, then slowly skims his hands down my neck, across my shoulders and lays them to rest on my waist. Leaning his forehead against mine, I can feel his warm breath on my face.
Although we’re in the middle of the lobby, I close my eyes and lean into him. What we have is so right. Why can’t he see it? I want to tell him how I feel, but the words are stuck deep inside. They want to come out, but I can’t find my voice to actually speak the words.
“We have to go,” he finally says. “Or we’re going to be late.”
Resolve settles inside my heart. I’m going to take the leap of faith and tell him. I hope he won’t reject me, because I’m not sure I can go through losing my best friend again.
“We’ll have the check please,” Elijah says to the waitress.
He brought me to the cutest little pasta place. The food was nothing short of incredibly tasty. “I’m so full I don’t think I can eat again until tomorrow,” I say to Elijah once the waitress leaves to get our check ready.
Elijah half smiles, then he draws his brows together and leans over the table to feel my forehead. I scowl at him, and marginally pull back. “I’m checking to make sure you’re not getting sick. Do you feel okay?”
“Smartass,” I sass him. “I did eat a lot.”
“Yeah, you did, but for some reason I thought your stomach was a bottomless pit. A vortex where food goes in and never comes out again. You ate all yours, and the garlic bread, a salad, and dessert.”
I lean back on my chair and rub my stomach. “Trust me, I’m full.”
“For an hour.”
“No.” I shake my head at him. “I won’t eat again until tomorrow morning.”
The waitress brings us our check, and Elijah grabs it before I can have a look to see how much I owe. “Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it. I’ll be trying to go to sleep tonight and you’ll be rustling packets of food, eating them like a little mouse.”
“Hey.” I try to lean over to grab the check, but he swiftly moves it out of my grasp. “I don’t eat like a mouse. And for God’s sake, what’s my share of the bill?”
“No you’re right, you don’t eat like a mouse. More like a horse. And don’t stress about the check, I’ve got it.”
“Thank you.” Wow, he took me out for dinner. Maybe this is his way of telling me he feels something for me too. We leave the restaurant and I turn so we head back to the hotel.
“Where are you going?” he asks from behind me.
“Aren’t we going back to the hotel?”
“You can, but I have somewhere else I want to take you.”
“Yeah?” Yes! Elation begins to climb through my body, maybe this is it. “Where?”
“Follow me and you’ll see.” He indicates with his head. As I catch up to him, he shoves his hands in his pockets as he leads me to wherever we’re going.
The happiness that was about to burst through, diminishes the moment his hands go in his pockets. Truthfully, I was hoping he’d hold my hand. Maybe I’ve been misreading all these signs.
“So where are we going?” I ask again, though more deflated.
“There.” He points to a building up ahead and I stop walking when I read the huge sign outside.
“Wow,” I whisper, more emotions hitting me hard. I can’t tell if I’m happy, or sad, but there’s a fire bubbling away inside my body. “The Nutcracker,” I breathe.
“The Nutcracker,” Elijah confirms. “I did some research before we left and found a ballet company was performing The Nutcracker. It’s on Alice’s list, and so I thought we’d . . .” he pauses and looks down at his feet. “ . . . is this okay with you?”
My eyes well up, and my heart thumps hard, firmly lodged in my chest. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. Perfect.”
“I know this wee
kend is difficult, but I know Alice would’ve wanted to see it if she and I were here.”
Rip. My heart tears into a million pieces. He’s still so in love with Alice, and I can’t intentionally try to come between him and the love he has for her. It’s just not fair, to him, me, or Alice.
She may have passed away seven months ago, but there’s no way he’s recovered enough to open his heart to anyone again. Maybe he’ll never recover. And if that’s the case, it’s not wise to hold onto hope that one day, maybe, we’ll have something. I thought we had an intense connection, sharing more than a physical attraction. But now I’m thinking he’s nowhere near ready.
“I’ll do anything for Alice,” I say. And I mean every single word.
We head inside and the usher shows us to our seats, which are on the side of the stage. The lights go out, the music starts, and the curtain rises.
The lead ballerina moves like a cloud onto the stage. “Oh my God,” I gasp when I see how effortlessly she dances.
She’s got her dark hair back in a tight bun, her make-up is flawless, and her tutu is pristine. What tears at me is as I watch her dance up on her toes, I see Alice. The perfection in every move she makes, the way she tilts her head to the side and pulls her shoulders back. I’ve seen Alice in so many productions that the ballerina on stage reminds me of my best friend. And God, I miss her so much.
Tears well in my eyes, but within seconds they spill over. The rawness of not having my best friend, my sister here hits me so hard. My heart has been ripped out of my chest all over again. The sobs overtake me at such a rapid speed, I can barely control my body’s shaking.
Elijah puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me toward him so I’m snuggled into his side. The arm of the seat is the only thing putting distance between us. With his other arm, he takes my hand and links our fingers together. I rest my head on his shoulder as we watch the amazing production.
The ballet is beautiful, fluent and faultless. With every leap the main ballerina makes, I hold my breath and imagine Alice up there throwing herself into the routine. I can imagine her practicing for hours, days, and weeks to fulfill the responsibility of being the principal dancer.
Dying Wish Page 34