Page 65 of Return to Me Always

"Who knew water could be so cruel," I groaned.

"Moving around will help."

At least, we didn't have our heavy packs to carry. At that realization, my heart plummeted. We didn't have any food or water or supplies. No money. No credit cards. No phones. Nothing.

God, I hoped Tyler knew what he was doing.

We continued along the bottom of the rocky cliffs, the sky still dark and not letting up with this endless rain. At some point, the precipice gave way to actual land that we could walk on, the mud sucking at our shoes. Every inch of me was wet and freezing cold.

Still, I wondered where we were going and where we would end up. But Tyler was right. Moving around did help. The aches in my muscles started to ease. And whenever I was thirsty, all I had to do was open my mouth to the sky.

Tyler walked alongside me, quiet, and I began to wonder if he had heard any of the things I'd said when I found him on the beach. In my panic, I couldn't be sure of what exactly I had said. But I knew one thing—I had told him I loved him. Repeatedly.

And you know what? I realized I didn't even care at this point if hehadheard me. I actuallywantedhim to know how I felt, even if he didn't feel the same, even if he didn't say the words back to me.

"Hey, Tyler?"

"Aye?"

"Did you, um, did you hear anything I said to you on the beach right after I found you?"

He hesitated a moment. "I'm not sure. I was sort of in and out of consciousness."

Hmm. Kind of a vague answer, and I wasn't sure how to go on.

But Tyler surprised me by asking, "The other night, when you said you'd been dreaming about me, what did you mean exactly?"

That was unexpected. I had no idea how to answer in a way that didn't make me seem crazy. "Well, it's just—it's just you'vealwaysbeen in my dreams."

Even with the sound of the rain, I heard his sharp intake of breath. "How so?"

Ugh, this was really hard to talk about with him. "I don't know how to explain it exactly. I guess, um, well, for as long as I can remember, I've been having dreams about you."

He was silent.

"And the even weirder part," I continued, "is that... is that..." I couldn't go on. It was just too strange.

"What exactly?"

"It's, well, it's like we're in a different time." I cringed, every part of my body tense as I waited for his response.

But he had no response, and instead of getting angry like I had in the past, I decided to try another approach. "Can I ask you something?" I didn't wait for his answer. "Do you believe in fate? In destiny?"

He paused, thinking, the silence stretching out. "Not especially. No."

I refused to let his answer crush me. "What do you think of the fact that I've been dreaming about you all my life, and then when I go to London, I run into you?"

"I don't know if I'd call that destiny."

"Then whatwouldyou call it?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

Now, I started to feel some frustration. Why couldn't he just admit it? "But don't you think it's some kind of destiny, fate, whatever you want to call it, that I dreamt of someone I didn't even know—youto be exact—and then I met you?"

He didn't answer.

"I know it sounds crazy," I continued, determined to make him admit something,anything. "But what can the dreams be about then? How can I dream of someone so exactly? Right down to the deep blue flecks in your eyes, the way your lips curve, the way you squint your eyes when you're deep in thought."

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