Or it used to.
Now, holding my own gaze, I can’t see a hint of the giddiness I felt when I entered the bathroom, the sadness I was feeling a moment ago, or the anxiety pricking at my nerve endings doing its best to convince me that crushing a couple of SIM cards won’t be enough to keep my secret safe. I look tired, which is to be expected after a flight to the other side of the world, but not troubled. My eyes are…empty, and only seem to grow emptier the longer I stand staring at myself.
Even when I start to feel disturbed by the lack of emotion in my expression, nothing flickers in my eyes. The electrical lines connecting my feelings to my face have been severed, leaving my soul adrift in my physical body, contained, but not connected.
“Sam? Are you okay in there?” Danny’s voice echoes through the empty bathroom.
“Yes, just brushing my teeth,” I call back, breaking eye contact with my reflection with a sharp shake of my head. “Be out in a minute.”
I fish my toiletry bag out of my purse and give my teeth a quick brush. I mop my face with a cleansing cloth, drip a couple drops of Visine in each eye, and smooth on sunscreen and a fresh coat of peach lip gloss before working curl cream through my fuzzy hair. I concentrate on moving through my post-plane-flight ritual swiftly and efficiently. I don’t linger over the squashed curls at the back of my head, and I don’t make eye contact with my reflection again.
It’s natural to be feeling drained after a ten-hour flight, and there’s no room for existential angst in my fresh start. I’ll just have to fake it until I make it, and one day soon the smiles I’m forcing will come naturally.
Chapter Five
Samantha
I toss my toiletry bag back into my purse and head out of the bathroom, fake smile firmly in place and lies swirling inside my head.
Lies are necessary right now, and I’m not going to hesitate to tell them.
Lies are kinder than the truth, for Danny and me both. I’m lying because I love him. The truth wouldn’t set either of us free, it would only cause more pain and make moving forward impossible. Danny would never be able to look at me the same way, and I couldn’t live with knowing I was the one responsible for bruising his big, tender heart.
“You look nice.” I loop an arm around his waist, squeezing a fistful of his long-sleeved blue tee shirt as we start toward customs. “I brought you a fleece, by the way. It’s in my pack. I figured you wouldn’t be prepared for winter.”
Danny laughs. “The season change didn’t even register until I was standing at the sink brushing my teeth and people kept giving my shorts weird looks. So is it winter here at the end of May?”
“Late autumn, I think.”
Danny hugs me closer. “Good. I love fall.”
“I can’t remember the last time I saw a real one,” I say, excitement creeping back in, banishing the lingering angst. “Probably when I was little and we went to go visit my great grandma in Pennsylvania before she died. I hope we’ll see some color on the way down to our kayaking trip.”
“Kayaking, huh?” Danny pulls his arm from my waist as we reach the end of the customs line, and shifts his backpack around so he can reach the pocket on the front. “You’re full of plans and schemes.”
“I am. I’ve got all kinds of adventures planned.” I keep my smile in place as he pulls out his passport and continues to sift through the outer compartment. “First kayaking, with a stop at a hot spring in the middle of the trip, and then a caving expedition the company calls Descent into the Abyss that sounds terrifying. Should be right up your alley.”
“What about your thing with tight places?” Danny asks, brow furrowing as he continues to shift items around.
“The caves are some of the largest in New Zealand,” I say, playing innocent as I get out my own passport and shuffle forward in line. “The guy I talked to said there weren’t many narrow parts, but there is one stretch where it’s completely pitch black and you have to find your boat with—”
“Babe, I’m sorry, but could you try to call my phone?” Danny asks with a sigh. “I think I might have left it on the plane.”
“You think it was in your pocket? I don’t remember seeing it.” I reach into my purse, checking all the usual pockets before I start shaking my head and allow my sifting to become more frantic, hoping my acting is good enough to pull this off.
“Shit,” I say after a minute. “I think mine is gone, too.”