“No. I’m okay helping you. And with this leg, there’s a good chance I’ll never go back to doing what I love.”
“I’m sorry.” I really am, too, because losing what you love is hard, and reinventing yourself even more so.
“Not your fault,” he says. And then, probably to move away from a too-personal and too-painful argument, he says, “Let’s take a walk.”
I glance around, surprised to find us already parked.
I exit the car quickly, ready to give him a hand again. Instead, he’s out before I can even reach him.
“I need to stretch my legs. Staying seated for too long kills me.”
We walk around the small town, and I love how well-kept everything is, and how different from the big city. Here, I can hear the birds singing, and the
rush of water running downstream. It’s so peaceful and relaxing. Comforting. I believe the village is named Nottage, and it’s confirmed by a signpost as soon as we turn the corner.
We walk around for a bit, but when Samuel begins walking slower and slower, I push him inside the first pub we find on the way back to the car.
“I’m starving,” I say to him when he looks at me, surprised. I keep a straight face because I don’t want him forcing himself when there’s no need to.
We spend a couple of hours there, chatting with the landlord, and as the time is getting late, we decide to spend the night here.
I’m glad when the owner says he has two rooms available, and we gladly accept the offer.
I’m glad Sam already decided to stay here tonight and head back to London tomorrow. I know it’s only four hours, but it’s too much strain on his injured body.
After dinner, we walk to our rooms and I wish he’d kiss me, but he doesn’t. I don’t have the courage to initiate anything. How could I when I was the one to walk away?
I watch him trudge to his room until he’s out of sight, then retire to my room.
I flop onto the bed and close my eyes, thinking about my life and how it’s evolving in ways so different from what I thought it would.
And then my thoughts go to the man a few rooms away from me and how life brings people together, even those that weren’t destined to meet.
***
“They must be smelling really well,” I say to the man who received John’s lungs.
“They smell even better now that I can take a full breath.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing full well that he couldn’t leave his house because even getting out of bed was too much for him.
“I don’t want to annoy you with my life story.”
“I’d be happy to listen to you. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone smelling a flower with such passion.”
“I do everything with passion. Life is way too short not to,” he says, and I nod because it’s true.
“Interesting point. Let me buy you a coffee and then we can talk about it.” He looks around and then moves closer, as if ready to share a secret. “I’m not sure if you know, but there’s a man who hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”
I turn around even if I already know who is referring to, and I catch Samuel watching us intently. His gaze moves away as soon as our eyes meet. He’s been strange since the day we were at his house, since the day we kissed and did more than that.
I can’t forget the zing of electricity passing between us as our lips touched for the first time. Oh God, I still feel it. And while my heart still calls for John, I can’t ignore what Samuel makes me feel just by being here with me. I never had this kind of reaction to John. Our love was more like a peaceful river, while whatever is growing between Samuel and me is like a tumultuous sea, with small, but powerful waves. As soon as we’re close to one another, the waves become bigger. Sometimes I have to stop myself from touching him, and I don’t mean sexually, but to look for or give comfort.
His hands on me, leaving little invisible burns everywhere they touched me, and making me want more of his touch. Samuel making us come . . . I need to stop thinking about it because my face is going to show it, and I don’t want to embarrass myself.
Thanks to his friends, I know more about him. They are a good bunch of people. I loved how close they were and how they didn’t have any problems about including me. Being part of something has been as amazing as Samuel’s touch, or close to it.
I’m pulled out of my reverie by the man who’s getting closer to me.