“But you got hurt?”
My eyes lock with hers, and I swallow so damn loudly I swear the fish hear it. I want to pull my hand back but can’t. I need this. “How did you know?”
“Little things. You have the mannerisms of someone struggling, like your hands are busy, suggesting anxiety. And you keep tapping your cap. I saw something under it when you flipped it backwards, like maybe a scar,” she says. “It’s stuff I picked up from…coaching, like observing people and their behaviours. It’s one of my skills.”
I pull on the back of my neck and stare at the sand. “I was in a car accident, but it was the time in the hospital afterwards that broke me. I got an infection, and I…I nearly died.”
I expect her to inch away from me or ask more questions, but she squeezes my hand. She slides closer, and her bare leg presses against mine.
“How did we get to this from you loving sheep?” I chuckle.
“It’s a weird night,” she replies. “It feels like I can say anything because this moment isn’t real. Just a random night sitting on a beach with my husband before everything changes.”
“Your husband with a monster dick.”
She laughs loudly, breaking any tension from our conversation.
“You’re right, by the way. It is,” I add.
“Yep, sure. Of course it is. And I’m a princess,” she teases.
“I knew it.”
Her eye roll makes me smile.
I squeeze her hand. “You don’t even know how weird thisnight is. You might not believe this, but I used to hug everyone. I was known for my hugs, and yet I haven’t hugged anyone in nearly a year.”
“Not even your family?”
“Nope. I haven’t seen them or talked to them or my friends much since I came here.”
“Are you lonely?”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I thought hiding away was the best thing for me, but coming out tonight has made me question everything. It’s weird to really talk to someone after all this time.”
“Sometimes, talking to a stranger, someone who won’t judge you or make you share all your feelings, can be easier.”
I stare at her colourful bracelet, which still sits on my thigh. The little heart beads sparkle in the moonlight.
“We don’t have to keep talking about the deep stuff if you don’t want to. I could ask you more weird questions.”
I shake my head frantically. “No, I need this, but give me a moment.” I thumb the letters and shapes of the bracelet with my spare hand while gripping hers with my other hand. “If any of this is too much to listen to, tell me to stop.”
“I’m here for you. Say whatever you want.”
I study the butterfly bead with its rainbow colours. “I was in a fire, hence the scars on my head. I was healing fine, but I got an infection because of my burns. It spread to my blood, and antibiotics wouldn’t work.” I suck in air, and my hand trembles. “I don’t know how I survived.” My chest heaves as I pant.
Her thumb strokes my finger, making it tingle. “That’s a lot to go through.”
“I’d led a charmed life up until then. While I was in the hospital, my dad had a heart attack. Although he survived, it added to my panic. Fear overwhelms me all the time.” My voice wobbles, and I grip the bracelet, counting the beads. “The day before I came to Greece, I Googled what was going on. I suspected I had a brain tumour, but it’s health anxiety. I’m scared of getting ill. I should be having tests to check my heart and to make sure my body is better, but instead, I hide here.”
I hang my head. My lips are so dry, and a lump sticks in my throat. She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I’ve kept my place germ-free,” I say, “and today’s the first time I’ve socialised beyond a hello to my cleaners. You’re the first person I’ve touched in a really long time.”
“Is this too much?”
I shake my head. “It makes me realise how much I’ve missed touch and wonder if I can do more.”
