Chapter 31
Elina
I pace back and forth in the bedroom of my cabin. Abruptly, I stop in front of the mirror and gaze into it with a serious expression.
"We need to talk, Noah," I say.
No, that's not a good approach. It's not the right way to start.
"Do you trust me?" I ask my reflection, my voice soft and encouraging, nodding slightly.
"Why did you lie to me?" I tilt my head to the side, pushing my lower lip forward a little.
As if on their own, my eyebrows rise. "Did you lie to me?" I ask impatiently. "Out with it, Noah."
Tense, I run my hands through my hair. How the hell am I supposed to have this conversation with Noah? I don't want to sound accusatory or sensationalist. I don't want him to feel cornered, and by no means should he suspect that I believe what Clara told me today.
My phone rings. It's Maya.
If I answer now, she'll hear that something is wrong. And she'll explain how right she was when she warned me from the beginning.
I'm already confused enough, so it's better not to take the call.
Then I fixate on my reflection once again. I want tosay something, but the words elude me. "Damn," is all that comes to mind before I start moving again. I pace back and forth in front of the bed. My hands alternate between clenched fists and striking my thighs uncontrollably.
What if it's true?
His tough exterior. The reserved manner in which I first met him. The feeling that he carries a secret. Julian. It all fits together.
What if I confront him and he confirms that Clara wasn't lying?
I quit biting my nails years ago. But I catch myself sticking my index finger in my mouth and biting down so hard on the nail that I immediately have nail polish flakes on my tongue.
There's a knock on the door. Rooted to the spot, I stand between the bed and the wardrobe.
Could that be Noah?
No. We don't have plans, and he's not the type for surprise visits. "You're being ridiculous, Elina," I admonish myself and walk to the hallway to open the door.
"Noah."
He takes a step toward me with a warm smile and embraces me. "Did you see a ghost?" he asks, gently swaying me back and forth.
Maybe. "Um..."
His forehead wrinkles. "You don't like surprises. I'm sorry."
He immediately lets go of me, and in that same instant, I already miss his closeness. "Actually, I love surprises," I mumble as if I've lost my mind. I've practiced for hours in front of the mirror, rehearsingwhat I'll say when we meet again. But this sentence wasn't part of it.
His expression brightens. "That works out perfectly because I'm here to whisk you away."
I raise an eyebrow. "Whisk me away?"
"To a magical place," he replies mysteriously. "You just need sturdy shoes, a jacket, and a few hours of time."
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't suppress a smile. He has something beautiful planned. Just for me.
No. Stop. I shouldn't let it bother me.
