32
Now
Bridget and I stay on the beach for a long time. We don’t say it, but I think we both feel that reality awaits us at the house, and neither of us wants to face it. We make our way back slowly, one heavy step at a time. My brain feels like mashed bananas on toast. Bridget is moving, and as that truth settles, I know it will knock me over. I see it coming like a train. Panic. Loneliness.
All the ways I’ll miss having her close. I can feel it in my lungs already.
But then I spot Felix. He’s on the deck with Miles, and I can tell when he notices us. His body goes still. And then it goes fast. He races toward us, and as he gets closer and our eyes meet, I know it’s only me he sees. It stops me
in my tracks.
“Whoa,” Bridget says.
“Whoa,” I agree.
When Felix reaches me, he picks me up, clean off the ground, hugging me tight. I wrap my legs around his waist and press my face into his skin, the bronzed curve where his shoulder meets his neck. Salt and sun and wind and trees.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says. His voice vibrates through me, and I grip him tighter. “It wasn’t my news to share.”
“I know. I’m not angry.”
I can feel the tension leave his body.
“Are you okay?”
“No.” I smoosh as much of me into as much of him as I possibly can.
Forehead. Cheek. Eyelid. Nose. Lips. “I feel like my heart has been torn from my chest, but if I can stay right here in the crook of your neck, it would help.”
I feel his chuckle. “I think I’ll have to put you down eventually. I’m strong, but I’m not strong enough to carry you indefinitely.”
Bridget pipes up, “It’s a good thing Bee told me about the two of you or this would be weird. Actually, it’s still weird.”
“I think you better put me down,” I say. Bridget’s not ready for PDAs.
I unwind my legs from Felix, and when he sets me on my feet, Bridget shoves her brother’s shoulder. “Wolf, what did I tell you about flirting with my friends?”
He raises a brow. “I hope you’re not expecting an apology.”
“Be careful,” she tells him. “I know where you live.”
“How are you really?” Felix asks as we walk to the house. His arm is wrapped around my waist, keeping me close to his side.
“Devastated. But I’m not sure I can talk about it without breaking down again.” Even at that, my voice catches. “I’m sort of panicking.”
“Don’t panic,” he says. “Nothing good comes from panicking.”
“I know,” I tell him.
But two months from now, Bridget will be in Australia, Felix will be here, and I’ll be in Toronto. The ache in my lungs begins to burn.
Felix kisses my temple. “We’ll get through it together, Lucy,” he says.
Together. I like how it sounds.
