What if he needs me?
I don’t believe in anything beyond this world, and I never have. I don’t believe in premonitions, or astrology, or any of that bullshit. I’ve always been a terribly practical person, despite my love of books. Still, my time with Alexandre woke up something else within me.
With him, in those days while I fought to keep him alive, I feel as if I discovered a sense of magic, of romance, of dreamlike fantasy that I never believed existed in the real world. Reality for me has always been struggle, sickness, hunger, and fear. The beginning of my time with Alexandre was some of that, too. But it turned into something so very different.
If I don’t go, I know I’ll wonder forever if I should have. I’ll wonder forever what happened to him, what might have been different.
If I go back, at least I’ll know. If I have to leave again, I’ll do so knowing there was nothing left for me with him.
I bite my lip nervously, looking at Georgie from across the table. “Hey—I’ve been thinking,” I say as nonchalantly as I can manage, as if this is an idea I’ve been sitting on for some time and not a spur-of-the-moment decision brought on by a nightmare, of all things.
“Yeah?” Georgie stuffs his mouth with a bite of eggs, bacon, and pancake all at once, chomping his way through it as if it were a five-star breakfast rather than my questionable cooking. “What’s that?”
“What if we went on a vacation for Christmas? We’ve never spent Christmas away from home. There are a lot of memories of shitty Christmases here. We could do something new, just the two of us.”
Georgie frowns. “Like what?”
“Well—what about—Paris?” I raise an eyebrow. “I hear it’s nice at Christmastime. They light up the Eiffel Tower and everything.”
He looks unconvinced. “We can afford that?”
“I told you, I have plenty left over.” I don’t, actually—the trip will cut significantly into the savings I stashed under my bed, but my driving need to make sure Alexandre is safe, the sinking feeling left from my nightmare, makes me wiling to do exactly that. It feels like something Ihaveto do.
Georgie shrugs with typical teenage apathy, but I can see his eyes lighting up at the idea. “That could be cool,” he says, as if he doesn’t care one way or another, but I know my brother, and I can already see his wheels turning.
“Let’s do it, then.” I set my fork down. “We’ll take a train in—I know you’ve never taken the train before. We’ll get a hotel and spend Christmas somewhere new and special.”
With the decision made, Georgie goes to pack while I do the dishes and put a few things in a bag for myself. My heart is fluttering like a trapped bird in my chest at the thought of seeing Alexandre again, and I know it shouldn’t be.This is a trip to check on him, nothing more,I tell myself firmly, but it feels hard to convince myself of that simple fact. The excitement I feel at seeing him again, at the look on his face when I walk into his apartment, has me almost giddy.
This time, I’ll be there of my own free will. What if that meanseverythingcan be different? A fresh start for us both…
Don’t be an idiot. The manownedyou for a while. You can’t start a relationship with him.
It feels impossible to tell my rapidly beating heart that, though.
Georgie’s excitement is a decent distraction as we set out. Everything, from taking a cab to arriving at the train station and buying last-minute, excessively expensive tickets in the crush of holiday travelers, is awe-inspiring to him. I focus on that instead of seeing Alexandre again. Georgie is as ill-traveled as I am, and I love seeing how thrilled he is. Even if this trip isn’t as straightforward as I’d made it sound, I’m still excited to share this part of the experience with my little brother.
He insists we buy candy on the train, like theHarry Pottermovie, and talks eagerly about the places we could go in Paris that he’s learned about in school—the Louvre, the cathedrals, and other places. I’m glad to hear he’s enjoyed his history classes, and we talk more about that as the train winds its way towards Paris—and Alexandre.
Once there, my urge to see him feels almost uncontainable, but I force myself to wait. My first priority is to make sure Georgie is safe and happy, and doesn’t feel neglected. I check us into one of the nicest hotels within a few miles of Alexandre’s apartment, with a view of the Eiffel tower, and order a very French room service ofcroque madams,crepes, and champagne.
“You can drink a little,” I tell him firmly. “And order a movie if you want. I need to go check in on a friend.”
Georgie narrows his eyes at me. “Is that why we’re here? I thought it was for vacation.”
“It is,” I insist. “And I’ll be back here soon, and we’ll spend Christmas together and explore Paris. But I have a sick friend, and I need to check on them.”
Georgie frowns. “You don’t have friends.”
“Well, I do now.” I ruffle his hair, kissing him on the top of his head. “There better be champagne left when I get back.”
My heart is fluttering in my chest again as I set out for Alexandre’s apartment. I could take a cab, but I opt to walk instead, letting the cold air cool my flushed cheeks and giving myself time to think. I tell myself over and over again that I’m only going to check on him, but the way my pulse is beating says otherwise.
I feel as if I’m going to see a lover, flushed and eager, anticipating the moment when he sees me again, the look on his face and the words on his lips. The walk feels like it takes no time at all, like I’m floating over the snow. I can’t wait to see how much better he feels, if he might even be able to hold me—
I knock on his door, my heart in my throat, frowning when there’s no answer.Is he sleeping?I fish out the key I still have from when I would leave and get food while he was still sick, opening the door and walking quickly down the hall, my heartbeat quickening with every step.
And then, as I round the corner into the living room, I stop dead in my tracks, unable to quite believe what I’m seeing.