My breath steadied, and I faced the screen. She’d told me what I needed to hear. We were solid no matter what I decided to do. “I have to go.”
“I support you. In every way.” She blew me a kiss. “I love you. You can always come home.”
I hung up, hearing the wordhomelike an echo.
How could I go home?
I’d invented all my excuses. It wasn’t because I wanted to test Bas. That was part of it, but mainly, Bas had made the decision without asking me, and so it wasn’tmydecision forme. Icouldn’t go forward always thinking I’d thrown my life away to chase after a man.
Sitting there, alone, without so much as a vibrator to my name, I saw how flimsy and sad it all was. I loved Bas. I loved how he always respected me and put my happiness first. How he wanted to really know me and then overlooked my many flaws. I loved that he’d figured out I was a disaster, and he saw those characteristics as features rather than bugs. I loved that he could call me on my bullshit and make me be myself, make me a better me. I loved that he never stopped trying, never gave up making corny, terrible jokes, or finding ways to cheer me up, make me laugh. I loved how he kissed me, touched me, loved me.
I loved him body, heart, mind, and soul. I didn’t need him to follow me home to prove he felt the same. I already knew it. Everything else I’d said had been those old fears, the Old Chelsea rearing her ugly head.
If he loved me the way he said, maybe, just maybe it was because I was worthy of love. Maybe I had something to givehim.I never had to pretend to be someone else or trick him into wanting me. He gave his love freely, and I’d been the one exacting a toll.
I saw clearly that he’d tried doing things my way, taking on all the risk by himself. But I’d never shown him he could trust me to do the same. In fact, by running away, I’d only proved that I hadn’t changed one bit. Why should I expect him to chase after me? He’d be making the exact same mistake I chastised my mother for.
How could I have been so stupid?
I’d created my checklist to distract me from pain. Leaning into the challenges had opened me up to finding Bas, my favorite distraction of all. And true to his word, Bas had shown me the world.
I always thought I had wanderlust—a yearning to see theworld. But adventure had a name now, and without Bas, it was meaningless.
Whether we stayed in Greece or went back to Charlottesville wouldn’t matter as long as we were there together. We’d always be home. And suddenly, I heard what everyone had been telling me all along. I wasn’t my mother, and Bas wasn’t my father. I wasn’t giving up my autonomy to be with him; I was choosing my freedom. I wasn’t staying with him out of fear or desperation, but I sure as fuck was letting fear drive me away.
And it struck me. I’d questioned my mom’s decision to chase after my dad whenever he’d abandoned us. She’d never asked him to change, to grow the fuck up and stand up for her. She’d never fought for something better for her. For them. For us. She’d just cheapened herself to keep him. I suddenly got why Bas had to stay. He was growing up, taking responsibility, making a stand, not just for himself, but for us. For our future. Following me home would be an abdication of everything we’d dreamed of for him. And I was the asshole here. It was time I grew up, too.
Elizabeth once said I’d eventually be forced to make a choice between all or nothing, and I’d choose nothing out of a fear of a hypothetical future I couldn’t control. She was right. I could have everything I’d ever wantedwithBas, if I’d only take that step. I knew he’d always catch me. We’d always catch each other.
We’d kissed under a bridge at sunset with bells ringing and pigeons watching. We were destined to love each other forever.
In a sudden panic, I rushed to the counter and waved for someone’s attention, explaining poorly that I wouldn’t be taking the flight. With wild gestures at the tarmac, a prim stewardess said my luggage was already aboard and couldn’t be retrieved at this time.
Whatever. I laughed at her and said, “It’s okay! I don’t need it!” All of that could be replaced. Bas could not.
Without a backward glance, I raced past security to the parkinglot, where I flagged down a taxi and waved a Visa card at the driver. He nodded, and I jumped in the back.
I grabbed my phone, pulled up a map, and located the hotel. “I need to go here.”
He took off, and I prayed I’d find Bas there. He could have gone to his uncle’s. He might have gone for lunch in the city.
The cab dropped me off, and I took in my future landscape. The hotel was stunningly beautiful, overlooking the most sparkling blue water in the world. How had I failed to marvel at that view? I had no time to appreciate it. I wanted to run, but there were guests out front, so I walked like an old lady exercising at a mall, hips rotating frantically. I ran up the stairs, straight to his room, and pounded on the door.
It opened.
He was there.
His shirt was unbuttoned like he’d been about to get in the shower, and I wanted to lay my hands on his chest and drag the sleeves down his arms. But that would have to wait a moment.
His eyes widened. “What? Did you forget something?”
“Yes.” I stood there, feeling awkward and nervous and vulnerable, but I forced myself to be brave. “I forgot how you coaxed me to open up, then listened while I shared probably way too much information.”
His expression scrunched in confusion. “Um.”
“I forgot how safe I feel when you hold me. How you spoil me with delicious food. How you invited me into your family. How you care for me like someone worthy of your love.” I started to cry, and my words came out through tears. “Bas, I forgot how much I love you.”
His face twisted. “God. Please tell me you’ve remembered.”
