“It only makes sense that I would.” I take a deep breath and change the subject. I can’t talk about this anymore. “You would love Dottie, the woman we’ve been staying with.”
Grandma sighs, sensing my avoidance of it, but doesn’t bring it up. “Tell me about her,” Grandma says. I tell her all the ways she reminds me of my mom, and how she’s been teaching me to cook and bake. After a few more minutes, I reluctantly say goodbye to her, with a promise to call when we’re on our way home.
I dial Julia’s number next, feeling a bit more confident now. Thankfully, she answers right away.
“Han, is that you?”
“It’s me,” I reply. A smile crosses my face as I hear yelling.
“Tiff, it’s Hannah!” Juliacalls.
“Hannah!” Tiff shrieks my name, her voice joining Julia’s.
“Hi guys,” I say through laughter. “I have good news.”
“You had sex!” Julia cries.
Heat floods my veins. “Um—” I start, but she interrupts me.
“I knew it. Tell meeverything. How was it?”
“Let the girl talk, sweetie,” Tiff coaxes.
My heart pangs. I miss them so much. “That’s not why I’m calling. We get to come home.”
A loud scream pierces my eardrums.
“Thank goodness,” Julia cries. The sound of her tears makes my throat thicken with emotion.
“Yeah,” I blubber.
“When?” Tiff asks. “Now?”
I shake my head, even though they can’t see. “Early next week.” I wipe at my nose, trying to rid the snot.
“Holy shit, Han,” Julia breathes. “How are you? Are you excited?”
Sobs bubble up my chest and escape me before I can hold it back. “No.”
“Wha— Hannah, what do you mean, no?”
“It’s ridiculous,” I wail. “All we’ve wanted since the moment we got here was to go home, and now the thought of going home terrifies me.”
“How come? They wouldn’t let you come home if you weren’t safe,” Tiff tries to say.
“It’s not that.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not ready for this to end. Whatever Thomas and I have, it has to stay here, in this little bubble.”
“Did Thomas say that?” Julia asks, her voice growing angry.
“No, no.” I rush to defend him. “But I know it has to stay here.”
“Why?” Tiff wonders.
“I mean, the whole reason I’m here is because he wanted to keep me safe.”
“And? Why does that mean it has to end?”
“The need to pretend and keep us safe is gone, therefore, the relationship ends too. We both have demanding jobs, and when we aren’t spending twenty-four-seven together, it will fizzle out.” I lean against the gritty rope, trying to force myself to keep that logic. If I am prepared for it to end, then it won’t hurt as bad. Right?
