But I can’t go through with it. She’s still with her parents. Now is not the time.
I go back to the message thread.
I know I should’ve said it before I left. But I didn’t. So here it is now, because I can’t get on this plane and not tell you?—
I stop typing. Stare at the blinking cursor. It’s waiting on me. Begging me to be brave.
To ask her if I can take her out on a real date, or start something more if she’s interested. Anything to keep her in my life since she won’t be coming over every morning to see Caden anymore.
But the words don’t feel right over text.
So I delete the draft.
One last time.
I wanted to say something before I left. But I didn’t. Can I call you later?
I hit send before I can talk myself out of it.
The screen dims.
I sit with my phone in my lap waiting for it to illuminate with a reply as if everything depends on it. In many ways, it does.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
NATALIE
“God,he’s in love with you,” my mom laughs from the front seat, pulling away from the airport. “Just like your father was when we met. You remember, don’t you Gary? How overwhelming that soulmate bond was for you before I accepted it?”
“Fucking unbearable. Can’t say I envy the kid.” My dad laughs.
“What…what are you guys talking about?” I ask.
“The soulmate bond? You haven’t felt it yet, sweetheart? You know, the one I used to tell you about that runs through the Leighwell side of the family. It seems like it’s been torturing Cole for a while with the way he looks at you. It got more intense during the holidays, with the magic falling all around for your father before I gave in, too.”
I shift in the back seat. My mother is spouting nonsense that would be in my best interest to ignore. Even if it tracks with so much of what Cole and I have experienced in the past few days.
“I thought that was just a story you told me when I was younger… you know, like Santa Claus or something.”
“Not all stories are truly fictitious, baby. You know magic is real, don’t you?” My mom’s eyebrows squish together.
I shouldn’t. Right? Magic is for fairytales. But as we creep further and further away from Cole, that tug, tug, tug, tortures me more and more.
I try to breathe through it. If he’s my soulmate, then everything will be okay when I get back to school. We live in the same apartment building. I’ll see him. Everything will be okay.
“I just hope the connection doesn’t snap before you two see each other again. Happened to Aunt Siobhan, poor thing. Never worked up the courage to tell her beloved how she felt and her poor heart wilted.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, now I know you’re messing with me. You don’t have an Aunt Siobhan.”
“Whatever you say, dear,” my mom says in such a calm yet menacing tone that I’m almost forced to believe her. But I won’t. Soulmate bonds belong in fictional worlds, not in the real world. “Couldn’t be because she abandoned the family and lives in England, writing instruction manuals for assembling Swedish furniture.”
My mind continues to remind my heart of the implausibility of soulmates. But the further we travel away from the airport and back to Wellsport, the more it seems we’ve left my heart behind.
There are times for rational thought, and then there are times to believe in holiday magic and soulmate bonds. When you’re barreling down the interstate, with your third—or is it the fourth? I don’t know, I’ve lost count—coffee in hand, Christmas tunes blaring that all seem to echo the same message about thisbeing a time when the world falls in love, that’s the time to believe in the magic of love, and also of caffeine, because what is even in it that makes me feel like I can smell colors?
Green—woodsy, pine, cedar.
