But after our conversation last night... something tells me Edinburgh is going to become her favorite. At least until she sees my homeland. I hope so.
When I answer and hear her “hi”, light and almost laughing, something loosens inside me.
“Ciao, bella.”
She dives right in. “Alexander, you have no idea what Edinburgh Castle is like. I went up there yesterday, and it felt like... I don’t know... And the wind! My God, the wind almost carried me away,” she laughs, so freely that my heart stutters in my chest.
I lean back in my chair, close my eyes, trying to picture it.
“Yeah?” I murmur. “And then?”
“I climbed Arthur’s Seat early this morning to see the sunrise,” she continues, breathless with excitement. “Alexander... you should have seen the sky. It was pink, gold, kind of orange... it looked like Photoshop, it was so perfect. I just stood there staring. I swear, it took my breath away.”
I don’t say anything for a few seconds, listening to her breathe over the line, a sound that somehow makes the physical distance feel even more brutal.
“You would’ve loved it,” she says, her voice calmer now. “I took a bunch of pictures for the blog, but I kept some just for you. You’d love that feeling of... being way up above the city.”
“Cecilia...” I say, unable to hold it back. “I would’ve liked being there with you.”
She doesn’t say anything at first. When she speaks again, her voice drops, like she’s smiling. “I... I would’ve liked seeing it with you too.”
I take a deep breath, trying not to let the impact of her words show in mine.
“Then tell me,” I say. “Take your time. I want to hear everything.”
And she does. Her voice is bright, describing every detail, color, and corner of the city. I close my eyes and listen, imagining each step as if I were right there beside her.
I keep walking at an easy pace over the large rectangular stone blocks, taking in the colorful little shops, the bookshops, local art stores, tiny cafés, vintage boutiques...
Before reaching the end of the street, I pull out my phone and dial the number I know by heart.
She answers on the fourth ring. “Hi. I couldn’t find my phone in my bag,” she says, a little breathless.
I chuckle. “Ciao, Cecilia. Are you at the bookstore you wanted to visit today?”
She laughs. “Well... I kind of got lost. I’m backtracking now, but I don’t think I’m far from it.”
I smile as I turn left at the end of the street, the way already committed to memory.
“Did you get lost, or did you just get distracted by another one of the shops you fell in love with?”
“Both?” she says, laughing again.
I stop in front of the green door, and my smile widens as I glance down the street.
“Maybe I can help you find it.”
She gasps. “Alexander, I know how to use GPS, and I told you I know where I’m going.”
I smile to myself. “Look up, Cecilia.”
When she lifts her face, she stops dead, frozen mid-step, less than thirteen feet from me. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. The street keeps going around us, tourists talking, cars passing, but it all blurs into a muted haze.
I end the call and tilt my chin toward the sign above me.
Armchair Books.
“It’s here,” I call out, loud enough to rise above the noise.
