Page 33 of Sol
Trent -- Mentos
Ilayon my back in my bed in the hostel and stared at the cracked plasterceiling.
My mission hadchanged.
Or rather, I’d completed my first mission: deliver documents and information to Danika Anderson.Done.
But now I had this tricky bit of my heart to sortout.
Knifing up on my bed, I took out my wallet and inventoried its contents. Yes, it was all there. Including thepicture.
I sighed. I just couldn’t let her go so quickly after being the messenger of death. Taking away any of her joy, lightness, was the worst thing I’d ever done in my life. Seeing how she broke down about Degan? Hell, I felt the same way. Explaining all I had to say to her required communication skills way beyond my GS level. I cried for him on the battlefield and honored him at his funeral. But I’d still buttoned up so much grief, it was only a matter of time before more spilled out along with my red hot burning shame for still beingalive.
But that wasn’tall.
I couldn’t let her go because of her. She was my Dani, the girl I’d wanted my entirelife.
Although she pushed me away, while I’d respect her wishes, I wasn’t going to allow any harm to fall to her. I wanted to convince her to hop on the first flight back to California, but I was pretty damn sure she defended her personal freedom as fiercely as I defended that of our country. So that wouldn’thappen.
Instead, I’d keep my distance and take it as my solemn duty to care for her from afar. Even if that caused me pain. I’d stay in Spain, attend her class, and keep an eye on her. Like Degan wanted. Like Iwanted.
I rolled over on myside.
Fuck.
No.
That wasn’t what I wanted. What I wanted was a deep connection with her. To spend every moment of my life with her. Knowing what she ate for breakfast and how she went about her days. Watching how she went about dressing herself in the morning and putting herself in bed at night. Learning how that beautiful mind ticked. Letting her teach me the ways of the spiritual Universe she believedin.
Was this mychance?
After I left her room this morning, I shoved my boots on in the hall and did a weird walk of shame to my hostel, then passed out for a fewhours.
Now, though, I wanted to get to know this city better, so I wentdownstairs.
“¿Va a dar un paseo?” asked Carmen, the toddler. The ugliest cat in the world opened its eyes—one blue, one brown—and yawned, sticking its tongue out atme.
Her mother explained, “She wants to know if you’re going for awalk.”
“Sí,” I said. “Unpaseo.”
“Bien,” cooed Carmen, and clapped herhands.
Stepping out into the pleasant evening, I walked down the street, then passed by a large plaza with a central fountain. Families, couples, and friends sat outside in restaurants that lined the plaza, drinking wine and enjoying theatmosphere.
I thought about my nextmove.
Problem was, I didn’t haveone.
How could I get Dani to talk to me again? Just show up tomorrow in theclassroom?
That seemed kind oflame.
Making my way into the old part of town, I turned down a narrow street. The farther and farther I got from my hostel and school, the more uneasy I felt, because I had to speakSpanish.
I spied a candy shop with fruit punch Mentos in the display by the cash register. Myaddiction.
The proprietress had white hair gathered in a severe bun and wore a black cardigan. But her cheery eyes sweetened her mournfulappearance.
