Having accepted that she was binary within the universe, for the summer she hadn’t felt that. She’d felt like she was part of something.
A sob filled her throat. She swallowed it, staring at the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. It was no good. Tears ran down her cheeks. She dashed at them, her heart unbearably heavy, and pulled her knees more tightly to her chest.
She’d felt like she was part of something, but she hadn’t been. It had been an illusion and Santos had warned her about that right at the very beginning. She’d told him she was capable of separating a physical relationship from anything more.
And can you say with confidence that you will feel that way in five weeks, when
you leave the island?
‘Oh, God.’ She sat up in her bed, brushing her hair from her brow.
She’d done the exact opposite of what she’d promised him. She’d fallen in love with him. It wasn’t just sex. Maybe it had never been. Maybe she hadn’t just been being trite when she’d said their stardust had aligned.
Santos had been different.
On the first day they’d met, she’d wanted to kiss him so badly. Why? Because he was different and something about him called to her. Generally, her understanding of the world was informed by science, but in this moment she subscribed to every theory she’d ever heard about soul mates and fate.
‘I’m in love with Santos.’ She pressed her palms into her eyes, shaking her head from side to side in disbelief. And yet there was also a bubbling euphoria, a feeling that almost bordered on the edge of hysteria. She was in love with Santos. Completely. Completely and utterly in love with him. Pushing off the duvet, she stood, a sense of purpose flooding her body for the first time since leaving Paris. Perhaps even sooner than that, for the last week or so of their time together had been tinged with a sense of powerlessness, as though she’d been on a train and couldn’t get off.
She loved him.
She had to tell him. Regardless of what he said, she needed him to know. He was scared of hurting her, but was he just letting that fear stop him from having what he really wanted in life? Did he want her like she wanted him?
It was Thursday. The idea of having to get through a whole day at school before the weekend was a unique form of torture, but that same sense of purpose made it possible. She loaded up her phone and began the practicalities, booking flights, organising what she could.
She had to tell him. She’d think about what came next afterwards.
* * *
She was sure Cameron would be asleep at eight o’clock on a Friday night, and that was important. As much as she was desperate to see the little boy, she understood how confusing it would be to him, and he deserved better than that. So she’d waited outside his Athens home, her nerves doubling by the minute, her doubts plaguing her, uncertainty ripping through her.
But she knew she had to do this. She needed to tell Santos the truth.
Finally, a minute after eight, she walked up the steps, memories of the last time she’d been here and taken these steps flooding her mind and body. That night had been perfect. If she hadn’t loved him before then, she’d definitely fallen hard for him on that evening in Athens.
It was cooler now, autumn wrapping its grip around the country, so she wore jeans, a sweater and a scarf at her throat. Her fingers shook as she lifted them to the door, hesitating for a moment before pressing the buzzer there.
A moment later, it pulled inwards and she braced herself, wondering if it would be Chloe or Leo, perhaps Talia.
It was Santos.
Santos Anastakos, looking so familiar and so different, so untouchably handsome and expensive in a bespoke suit that fit his body like a glove.
‘Amelia!’ Her name was torn from him, shock evident in all his features.
‘Hi.’ Her voice was barely a whisper. Inwardly she cursed and tried again. ‘How are you?’
He frowned, his eyes shifting beyond her, as if he could somehow understand what she was doing there if he looked hard enough. This wasn’t a good start.
Shock though was quickly set aside, his face assuming a distant expression, so he looked at her as though she were a polite stranger. Her stomach dropped to her toes.
‘I’m fine. And you?’
As though she meant nothing to him. As though her being here was an inconvenience. Her knees felt weak, like they might not be able to support her for much longer.
She had to do this. She needed to tell him and see where the chips fell.
‘Are you going somewhere?’