Anywhere

by Jinsey Reese

  “Exactly. Who wouldn’t want to drink out of that?”

  “Hats with gargoyles sticking out all around.”

  “You know, I think you should offer your souvenir-designing services to all of Europe. Your natural talent is being wasted.”

  “I do seem to have that je ne sais quoi.”

  “You’ve got something, all right.” And he laughed when I reached over to hit him.

  I watched him for a moment, looking so relaxed and happy. I was going to miss him so, so much. He caught me staring and gave me this sad, sweet smile, like he knew what I was thinking.

  “What are you going to do?” He tapped my leg. “You know, after the wedding and all.”

  That was a good question. One that I didn’t have much of an answer to.

  “I don’t really know,” I said, picking at a hunk of bread. My stomach tightened just thinking about it. “The only thing I really know is that I need to be far away from my mom, and I’m not sure where that will be yet. And then I have to find a job.”

  “In that order?”

  “Yup. I know it’s backwards, but I figure I can wait tables or work retail just to pay the rent while I look for a Real Job. Or, even better, figure out what I really want to do with my life.” I shrugged. “I just know I’ve got to be on my own if I want my life to be mine, not hers.” I looked at him. “Does that sound terrible? Wait. Don’t answer that unless it’s no.”

  He shook his head, reached over to tuck some loose hair behind my ear. “No. It’s not terrible. Wanting your life to be your own doesn’t mean you don’t love her, aren’t grateful for all she’s done.”

  “She is SO not going to see it that way.”

  “She’ll adapt. People always do if given enough time.”

  I was afraid there would never be enough time, truthfully. She was going to be irate at my plans, and would do everything she could to stop me, pull out every manipulative technique she knew.

  I just hoped I was ready for it.

  I had to be.

  “Baby stuff!” I said, and looked up at the store. It was called 1+1=3. Perfect. I looked at Asher, who was peering in the window. “Do you mind?” I pointed at the store.

  He shrugged and shook his head, and we went in. It was filled with all sorts of baby-related things. I wandered around until I found the baby clothes—they were so tiny, like doll clothes.

  I couldn’t believe Paige was going to have a baby.

  “Is she having a boy or a girl?” Asher said.

  “I don’t know. I guess I need to find something that will work for either.”

  “Can I ‘elp you?” A saleswoman had come up behind us and had obviously heard us talking. She looked back and forth between me and Asher, a knowing smile on her face. “Is zis your first bebe?” And before I could say anything Asher spoke.

  “It is,” he said, winding his arm around my waist and patting my stomach, a big grin on his face. “We just found out.”

  “I can see zat,” she said, looking absolutely delighted with us. She was perfectly coiffed, every sleek, dark hair in place, her makeup precise, her navy pants suit pristine. “We ‘ave many clothes for you as well, Madame.”

  Asher was trying not to laugh while I told the lady that we were, in fact, just looking for a baby outfit. She looked a little crestfallen, but then someone else came in the store and she went off to help them as I kept looking at baby clothes, after I socked Asher in the stomach.

  And then I saw it: a tiny t-shirt with a little footprint next to a bigger one and the smallest pair of pants I’d ever seen. It was a deep, muted green—my favorite color—and perfect.

  “You’re nice,” Asher said as we headed back to our hotel.

  “What do you mean?”

  He started ticking things off on his fingers. “Going back for the wedding, making the bell, buying the baby something here because you know Paige will love it.” He smiled at me. “You’re nice.” And his smile was bittersweet. “I like that.”

  By the time we got back to our room that night I was irreversibly miserable.

  “Hey,” Asher said, as I slipped into bed beside him. I hadn’t said much since we’d gotten in. Just watched him pack up his stuff and tried not to cry.

  I wrapped my arms around him and didn’t bother trying to push away the tears anymore. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. I couldn’t think of a time in my life that I’d ever felt this unhappy. My heart was breaking—I could practically feel it slowly ripping in two as the minutes counted down. My chest hurt, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I was dripping all over him.

  Great last impression I was leaving. Good going, Skylar.

  “Do you wish we hadn’t met?” Asher said quietly, his fingers trailing up my arm.

  I shook my head. Of course not. The time I’d spent with him had been the most amazing month of my life. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. And if my throat hadn’t closed I would have said as much, but I could barely swallow, let alone speak.

  “Me neither,” he said, and held me tight. “It’s worth it, Skye. Just one moment with you is worth it.”

  twenty-six

  I couldn’t sleep. Wrapped up in Asher, my skin melding with his, our hearts beating together, skin touching everywhere, breathing in his every breath. Tears slipped out one by one.

  Tomorrow.

  I glanced at the clock. Fuck. It was already tomorrow. Today. He was leaving in nine hours. And lying next to him, I couldn’t breathe at the thought of it. I could feel him dreaming and wondered was I in there, in his dreams? I wanted to be. More than anything, I wanted to be a part of his dreams.

  How could I spend our last hours together sleeping?

  And how could I say goodbye to him in the morning?

  But, I told myself, it’s not like I definitely wouldn’t ever see him again. We could meet again. It was possible. Maybe when he got back to the States. Maybe if things didn’t work out with Tamara.

  God, I hoped things didn’t work out.

  But so much could happen in such a short time. Look at what had happened between us in just a month.

  Asher moved, and I turned to lay my head on his chest, wrap myself around him, feel as much of him as I possibly could. He sighed happily in his sleep, a faint smile appearing on his lips, dimples indenting just a bit.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop these stupid tears. I’d known this was coming. I’d known it all along. What was wrong with me? I was acting like a stupid kid. I needed to be adult about this. My mother, strangely enough, had been right. It was time I grew up.

  I lay there for hours, watching time move forward minute by minute no matter how much I didn’t want it to.

  At some point I must have fallen asleep because then it was morning and Asher was calling my name, kissing my bare shoulder and running his hands over my back. I arched into his hands, the sheet slipping down to my waist as I turned to smile sleepily at him. His hands glided around to caress my stomach and brush against my breast, but his smile was sad. He was already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  And then I remembered. I glanced at the clock in a panic.

  “We have plenty of time,” he said. He didn’t say before my train leaves, but I heard those words, felt them fall around me, plunking down one by one like stones dropping into water.

  Already my eyes were stinging again, and I angrily blinked them. I was not going to spend our last moments together crying. I could cry all the way home if I needed to, but I would not do it now. Not with Asher.

  My body felt stiff and heavy as I got in the shower, my movements slow. But I forced my way through, getting done as fast as I could. We had so little time left together. I didn’t want to waste it.

  I looked at myself in the mirror then, my wet hair leaving dark drips on my light grey t-shirt, dreading saying goodbye but knowing this was it. We were out of time.

  He had his bag ready by the time I came out of the bathroom—my stuff was still spread out, my phone on
the table next to my pack. I slipped it into my pocket, turned away from my things, and headed for the door.

  “You wanna get some breakfast?” he said. I’d barely looked at him since I’d gotten up. I couldn’t and keep my eyes dry or my heart in one ragged piece.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think I can eat.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  “But if you need food…”

  And then I looked at him. His eyebrows were drawn up toward the middle of his forehead, but as soon as I met his gaze he smiled softly and shook his head.

  God, this hurt.

  We took the metro to Gare du Nord in silence. It felt so strange for him to have a backpack while I had nothing.

  And that’s how I was feeling. Like I had nothing. Which wasn’t true, of course. And I knew I was going to be fine. But at that moment, it didn’t feel like it.

  As soon as we found his train, my feet stopped working. The immense airy building, with ceiling raised high above us, arched windows flooding the platforms with light, seemed to come to a halt as I watched Asher walk on without me.

  When he realized I wasn’t with him, he turned.

  We stood there for a moment, staring at each other as trains hissed before a little bell-like jingle echoed through the station and a warm female voice made an announcement in French.

  All I wanted to do was tell him not to go. Tell him I wanted him to stay, that he should come with me instead. But I couldn’t do that. This trip was for his brother—I couldn’t ask him to give that up.

  And, if I’m being honest, I was also afraid to ask him to choose between me and Tamara. Because what if he didn’t choose me? That was something I didn’t want to know.

  He took the few steps back to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Hey,” he said, and pulled me into him.

  I hid my face in his shoulder, wrapped my arms around his waist and just held on. A lump had grown so large in my throat that there was no way I could speak. Instead I just mouthed into his shirt what I couldn’t say out loud: I love you.

  And as soon as I’d (not) said it, I knew it was true. I loved Asher. With everything that I was, I loved this man-boy in my arms.

  But love didn’t always work out. So many things had to line up, and if even one of them was off—like timing, say, and the imminent presence of an expectant ex—it didn’t matter how much you loved somebody.

  So I swallowed the lump and tried to smile. Asher released me, searching my face, smiling sadly.

  “I gotta go,” he said, and I nodded, still unable to speak. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then turned and walked over to the train and disappeared inside of it.

  I stood there staring at where he’d been when there was a knock on the window next to me. I startled and turned to see Asher standing on the other side of the glass. I placed my hand against the window, and then Asher did the same, matching his hand to mine.

  The glass keeping us apart.

  Life keeping us apart.

  My eyes overflowed.

  The doors closed on the train as it hissed. My eyes didn’t budge from Asher’s on the other side of the glass.

  And then the train was sliding backwards, my fingers slipping from the other side of his. I pulled my hand away, stepped back and tried desperately to breathe as the train rolled out of the station.

  But there was not enough air in the building.

  Not enough air in the world.

  twenty-seven

  The airport was busy, even in the morning. I was exhausted from a sleepless night, but so glad to be leaving. Surprising, given what I was headed for, but I missed Asher with a constant ache in my chest that made me want to get as far away from Paris—and London, for that matter—as I could.

  After he’d left, I’d tried to distract myself, went to a couple of museums, walked for hours, but nothing had worked. All I did was miss him. So I finally gave up, went back to the hotel and tried (and failed) to sleep. At least I was tired enough today that I was likely to sleep the entire flight home. That was something to be thankful for.

  After checking in and getting through security, I wandered through the shops. I had a little time to kill until my flight left, and needed something to occupy my mind, keep me from falling apart. I was already planning my pre-emptive apology to whoever I’d be sitting next to because I was pretty sure I was going to lose it again as soon as the airplane taxied down the runway.

  Of course, the shops were all full of stupid souvenirs which only made me think of Asher and our ridiculous Quest. Part of me thought of texting him, and I even turned my phone on, but I stopped. He was with Tamara now. I hadn’t heard from him since he’d left—not that I’d expected to, but still it just cemented for me that he really wasn’t mine.

  The problem was that everything I saw reminded me of Asher or made me want to tell him something. He’d become my partner in crime. God, I missed him.

  My phone buzzed in my hand, surprising me—I’d gotten so used to not having it on.

  ASHER: You there?

  I smiled crazy-big and almost cried, which was enough to make other travelers think I was insane. But I didn’t care. I was so relieved to hear from him. I was dying to know how things were going. And also NOT. So I was not about to ask.

  ME: Yup.

  ASHER: I left you a message. On your phone.

  ME: Naked pictures? Woohoo!

  ASHER: You WISH.

  ME: Oh, wait. No, that was me with YOUR phone…

  ASHER: REALLY?

  ME: NO. What kind of girl do you think I am? Wait. Don’t answer that unless it’s the Perfect Girl.

  ASHER: That’s EXACTLY what I was going to say. How do you do that?

  ME: It’s a GIFT.

  ASHER: Obvs. Anyway. Check your videos.

  ME: Should I be alone? OMG did you leave me a NAKED video? PORNO??

  ASHER: Just shut up and watch it when you get a chance.

  He left me a video message? I wasn’t sure whether I was excited or scared to watch it. Or if I was even ready to. But it’s not like I was going to wait now that I knew about it. And, honestly, I was a little giddy at the thought that I had him on video.

  It took me a while to find my gate (that airport is HUGE) and I settled in the corner away from everyone else. Then I pulled up the video.

  There he was. His heart-melting grin captured on my screen, waiting to talk to me. My heart started beating fast, and I had to take a few deep breaths before pressing PLAY.

  “Skye,” he said.

  And then they called my plane for boarding.

  Shit. I hit PAUSE, grabbed my pack, stuffed my phone in my pocket, and pulled out my ticket. When I got on the plane, I found my seat, stowed my bag, and pulled out my phone again.

  I was just about to hit PLAY again when a woman sat down in the seat right next to mine. I looked at her, then back at my phone. If I watched it now, she’d essentially be watching it with me. I didn’t want to share this with some stranger—it felt too personal, too private to let anyone else see it. At least the first time through. I mean, I had no idea what he was going to say. But it was just for me and I wanted to keep it that way.

  “Miss?” The stewardess who’d been helping passengers tuck their bags in the overhead compartments leaned over the seats next to me. “You cannot use your phone until we are in the air.”

  And so there was that problem too.

  Fuck.

  I reluctantly turned off my phone and slid it into my pocket. Then I turned away from the woman next to me and stared out the window until we were in the air, high above the Atlantic ocean, heading west.

  So, remember when I’d thought I was going to sleep the whole way over? I was completely wrong. I waited. And waited. And WAITED for the lady next to me to either (a) fall asleep or (b) get up and go to the bathroom so I could have semi-privacy to watch Asher’s video. I sat there clutching my phone, every minute that passed feeling like an eternity.

  She kept talking to me—and she
was a nice person but I just wasn’t in the mood to chat. It would have been a Much Better Plan if I’d thought to go to the bathroom myself to watch the video in there, but it didn’t occur to me at the time.

  When the lady FINALLY got out of her seat and disappeared down the aisle, I turned toward the windows, pulled up his video, and pressed PLAY again as quickly as I could. I almost cried when he started talking—in relief at finally being able to watch his message and at just seeing his beautiful face again. Oh my god, I missed him.

  “Skye. There are so many things I wanted to say to you before I left, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why. Too scared to say them to your face, I guess, because what if you don’t feel the same way? Which is why I’m here.

  “You’re asleep right now, and I’m going to wake you up soon so I can get to the train station in time…even though I don’t really want to.

  “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be without you. I wish I could say that to your beautiful face, the face I’ve come to love over the past month. I can’t imagine being without you, but I know I’ve got to go because I made a promise, and you have commitments to keep, and I understand that. Even if I don’t like it.

  “Do you remember when I said ‘I love you’ in that field in Germany after what was one of the most amazing nights of my entire life? (Skinny-dipping with you was another, in case you’re wondering.) It wasn’t a slip, me saying that. Not really. I didn’t really intend to tell you that I loved you, but it was genuinely how I felt in that moment. Thanks for letting me backtrack in a panic without getting your feelings hurt. I don’t think you were ready to hear it then, just as I wasn’t really ready to say it.

  “Are you ready to hear it now?

  “Because I love you, Skye. I didn’t plan for this to happen, but you are my sun, moon, and Skye. I love that you’re snoring right now behind me. I love how you squint a little when you’re trying to figure out whether I’m kidding or serious. I love that you know where you’re going, even when you don’t think you do. I love your strength, your honesty, and your passion. I love how you laugh so hard you cry sometimes. And I love that I can make you laugh like that. I love your sense of humor and our banter. I love that you make me laugh. And I love that you can make me cry. I love that you embraced and honored my brother’s memory. I love that you touched my hand so gently and then took it in yours when I first told you about him.