“That explains the hurt puppy dog expression on his face when I arrived.”
“Don’t be mean about him,” I beg. “He’s a good guy.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry. I just… I’m worried for you.”
“I can’t stay here, Freya,” I tell her. “I left without saying anything to him. But when he finds out I’m gone, he’ll come after me.”
“How can you be sure?”
I think back to a few hours ago. Anton was sitting next to me on a very different bed. He held my hand, kissed me, promised me a future that I was ready to jump into with both feet, eyes closed.
I want you in my bed.
“He wanted me to move in with him,” I admit.
She raises her eyebrows in shock. “Really? But why would he want that?”
I shrug. “I asked him the same thing. It didn’t make any sense to me. It still doesn’t. But the only explanation that makes sense is that… he might have feelings for me, too.” I say the last part in a whisper, as if voicing it too loud will break it apart.
“Wow,” Freya says, floored.
“Is it crazy that I still kinda want to stay?” I whisper. I’m fairly sure that of everyone in my life, Freya is the least likely to judge me.
“With him?” she asks.
I nod, avoiding her eyes.
She doesn’t answer for so long that I start to feel my anxiety building. Then finally, she puts her hand on mine again. “Nothing seems crazy when you’re in love,” she says gently.
I give her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Freya. You’re the only one I can talk to without feeling ashamed.”
“You have nothing to feel ashamed about. He does, though.”
I shrug. “I don’t think Anton wastes his time feeling bad about things. He takes life head-on.”
“I understand the appeal.”
“Was your ex-boyfriend like that?” I ask.
She gives me a sad smile. “He was very similar.”
I can tell how much her past still weighs on her. She can’t bring herself to talk about it too much. Leaving an abusive relationship is one thing. Leaving your home, friends, and family at the same time is a whole different kind of challenge.
“What are you gonna do?” she asks.
“Leave,” I say simply. “I don’t know where I’ll go, but I know I have to leave.”
“How soon?”
“Tomorrow, if I can manage it. If I stay in this city too long, he will find me.”
Her expression changes. It becomes more focused, more calculating. She gets up and starts pacing by the foot of the bed. “I’ve got an idea. Hear me out, okay?”
I’m reluctant, but I owe it to her. “Okay.”
“London.”
I frown. “Um, was that the whole plan or am I missing a few parts?”