A stare.
A scent that clings to your tongue and that you savor for hours afterward.
And that attraction transforms into desire.
The kind that hurts rather than calms you.
But Lucas didn’t look up, and I started to walk away.
And that could have been the end.
But no—it wasn’t destined to be that.
It was just a chance to ignore the signs. To run.
And I didn’t do it. I stayed.
Because sometimes, a train comes only once.
And never passes that station again.
And you get on, even though you know it’s going to crash.
Because it’s easier to live with the certainty of what wasn’t than with the uncertainty of what could have been.
It just is.
14
I walked aimlessly, my suitcase wheels echoing on the sidewalk, thinking how strange, how pathetic that night had been. The more steps I took, the more certain I was that I’d lost my mind. Going over a thousand miles away, with nothing more than what could fit in a travel bag and a maybe on my mind. Without thinking. Without examining the consequences. I’d never done anything like that. I’d barely ever done anything on my own, and the few times I had, I’d thought it over for hours, days, weeks.
And yet, there I was. I’d jumped without a parachute.
Someone whistled behind me, and I jerked, my entire body tense. I heard steps and didn’t dare to turn, instead speeding up. I was alone, and the street was empty. When I reached a crossroads, I turned left. There were stairs there. I picked up my suitcase and started walking downward.
Soon I regretted it. The steps seemed never to end. They were narrow and steep, and it was hard to see where I was putting my feet. From what little I could see, the stairway seemed to lead to the beach. I finally reached bottom, and nearby there were still a few bars open. In the light they gave off, I saw lines of umbrellas and beach chairs on the thin stretch of sand along the shore.
I walked toward the one farthest away, near a few stranded boats, and lay in it after stowing my suitcase underneath it. The sky was full of stars that shimmered up high, the breeze was cool, the air smelled strongly of salt. I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open.
My eyelids fell closed and sleep carried me away.
And then I shuddered awake, my heart racing, with no sense of time. I’d heard a noise. I was sure of it.
I looked around, but I didn’t see anything.
Then I noticed the smell of tobacco.
I heard a breath and saw a coppery glow before a cloud of smoke emerged.
Squinting, I managed to make out the shadow of a man leaning against one of the boats. I remained still, thinking he hadn’t noticed me and hoping he’d finish his cigarette and leave as soon as possible.
Then something warm and damp touched my arm. I jerked and shouted. Was that a dog? Where the hell had it come from? I scowled at it and begged it to go. Dogs have always given me the creeps.
As I shook my hand at it, it grunted and ran off.
“Tutto bene?” a gravelly voice asked. It was the guy from the boat hurrying over.
“Sì, sì, grazie,” I said.
