I take a moment to watch her. Even while doing the mundane, she is one of the most captivating women I’ve ever seen. I feel myself being pulled to her, craving her. I don’t want this to end. There’s a tingling in my stomach that tells me that we could be something.
‘So, I was thinking . . .’ I say.
She pauses dressing to face me, lips parted in anticipation. I feel my stomach twist at the thought of opening up so fast, but the whole point of this adventure was to be more open.
‘What do you think about us maybe staying in touch?’ I say slowly. ‘I don’t know, maybe I could come back to Salzburg and we could...’ I feel my breath catch, but I have to power through it. This is worth it;she’sworth it. ‘I mean, Salzburg’s not that far from London on the plane and with social media...’
Her eyebrows raise the second she sees where I’m going. She rushes over instantly, crouching over me to put an end to my nervous ramblings with a kiss. It quickly becomes two kisses, three kisses, four, but then she pulls away, still nose to nose, and smiles softly back at me. My stomach sinks. This is not the soft smile I’m used to. There’s something more melancholic about it.
‘We can’t do that,’ she says, before turning and going back to getting dressed.
I sit up straight against the headboard, my body jolted by its confusion.
‘Why?’ I ask briskly.
‘Because it makes no sense, given yourjourney. What happens? You go on sixty more dates and then come back to me? And I just sit here and wait while you do?’
Her back is to me as she says it, not even bothering to stop pulling on her work trousers as she delivers the blow. As casual as her delivery is, it does nothing to mask the fact that it feels like a knife to the heart.
‘I-I’m sorry, I thought you were cool with the date thing,’ I say, lost.
Nothing about our interactions have ever indicated that my column was an issue. She’s asked me questions, laughed about it, cringed at some of my stories and praised the honesty and emotion in my writing. She made me see it as a badge of honour, rather than a scarlet letter.
She turns to face me again as she buttons up her shirt.
‘I am cool with it; I think it’s a fun adventure. But you can’t be serious about me while you do it.’ She tucks in her shirt and makes a start on her hair, turning back to the mirror. ‘You can’t be serious aboutanyone. Not when you’ve got such a long line of people to date.’
The weight of her words hits the badge of honour and plunges it through my chest into the depths of my heart. I pull the covers up higher, as if that will stop me from shrinking into myself. I thought Lina was different. She felt different. I thought we had a foundation we could build into something stronger. She really seemed like she saw past the girl in the column, but, as her words play back to me, I realise just how wrong I was.
‘You’ve got such a long line of people to date.’
The connotations are blatant. I felt the shame from them the moment she said it.
She spots me spiralling and tuts, creeping closer until she’s towering over me on her side of the bed. She doesn’t bother to get in – not while she’s fully dressed and not after she’s just ripped out a chunk of my heart. Instead, she reaches over and cups my chin in her hand before lifting my mouth to her lips for one final, tender peck.
‘I did like you, Amorie. And I’ve had so much fun, but fun is all it can be.’ She shrugs. ‘You knew that when you chose to date me. It’s why you made me one of your eighty.’
Why Imadeher one of my eighty, as if it’s a curse I inflicted upon her. I look into her eyes, past the bravado, and see a flicker of hurt, and then for the first time I’m able to see myself from her point of view. I saw a beautiful woman who asked me out and then proceeded to be everything I needed while I was here. She sees a woman who knew this could never be anything from the start, but neglected to tell her until her friend brought it up.
Except I didn’t do it on purpose – I didn’t try to use her and I’m still not convinced that I actually have. I like Lina. More than I care to admit. I might even see a future with her. I never intended to make her feel like one of many in a pool of eighty dates. I haven’t intended that foranyone. I don’t use people. I guess I just hadn’t considered how it would feel from the other side.
What am I doing? What is the point of this all if I just keep moving from person to person? Surely you date to see how things go, but I’m cursed to already know. Everything just moves on to the next person.
I throw my head back against the pillow and stare at the ceiling, listening to her feet shuffle around the room. The longer I lie there, the more one question lingers in my mind.
Who else will I break if I continue this way?
I went to Vienna and all I got was...
. . .a KitKat for two
I’d be lying if I said that one conversation with Lina didn’t do a big old number on my psyche. In fact, it’s all I’ve been able to think about since leaving Salzburg. Thank God for Noah as without him I’m not entirely sure I would have made the train today. I’ve been a husk of myself, floating through the day on autopilot.
‘Excuse me, ma’am?’
I rip from my storm-cloud to look up at the man hovering above my seat. He smiles awkwardly at the eye contact, scratching behind his ear before looking down timidly at his phone.
‘This is seat 34G, right? I’ve been told to sit here.’
