He sings and I am putty in his hands, Diary.
I don’t dare tell him that, but I just thought you should know.
“Is something wrong?”
We’re at the hotel restaurant, which is one of the prettiest places I’ve ever seen. The bite of food I try is out of this world, but I’m moving it around on my plate, swirling it when Jaxson speaks. I look up at him and set my fork down.
“I’m fine,” I answer quietly.
“Something changed while I was in the shower. You’ve been looking at me like…you hate me again.”
“Who says I ever stopped?” I ask, picking up my fork and continuing to make pictures on my plate with the pretty food.
“Bells,” he whispers, his voice plaintive and sad.
I would feel bad for him if not for the fact that he’s the one who created this divide.
“I don’t know how to get past everything, Jaxson. I really don’t. I thought I could, but then…I remember.”
“You said you’d give me Paris.” He tries to smile, but instead, he looks in pain. “I know we’re on Plan B here, but can we please put everything in the past for this week?”
“You say that—put everything in the past—but you don’t mean it because the very list itself is the past. Our friendship is the past and you want to pull it out when it’s convenient and skim over the parts where you screwed up. That’s not really putting things in the past at all.”
He’s staring at me with a piece of steak hanging on his fork, eyes unblinking. “I like when you get indignant,” he says finally. “It suits you. Eyes all fiery and whatnot.”
I take a sip of my wine—the legal drinking age in Montreal is eighteen, how convenient is that—and then decide, what the heck, I’ll guzzle the whole glass. Jaxson pours another glass and I take a few bites of food before having the second glass.
“You’re right, you know. Guilty.” He makes a goofy face but quickly sobers. “I guess I keep hoping there is a new us. One that remembers what is beautiful about us but also makes new and better memories.” He leans in. “When I think back on us, I only feel the love. And I’m afraid when you look back on everything, all you feel is the sadness.” He looks so devastated that my eyes fill and I have to look away. “I really would like a chance to change that.”
“Let’s just try to get through this week,” I tell him.
“Like you’re being tortured,” he mutters.
“No…” I jump in. “More like I don’t want to figure out who we will be after this week. I just want to be right here, right now.”
“I can do that,” he says.
He clinks his glass to mine and we manage to enjoy the rest of our dinner.
“I didn’t know what I had until she was gone,” he sings in my ear as we stumble down the hall. “Her eyes haunt me from sunset until dawn…If I could tell her one thing, it would be this…I came alive with her kiss.”
We stop at the door and fumble for the lock, him still singing the sad song.
“What song is that? It’s too sad.” I shake my head, fumbling with my shoes as I step inside.
“It’s your song,” he says. “Our song. One of the many songs I’ve written about you…with a consistent theme of you being gone. We need new ones where you stay…”
Once my shoes are off, I fall back on the bed, my head spinning. “So I’m your muse?”
“Do you even need to ask?” He laughs, falling on the bed beside me.
“Apparently so. What are your plans with your music? That night I heard you…you sounded even better than I remembered, and I always thought you were bloody fantastic.” I turn my head to face him.
He grins. “Thanks, Bells. I didn’t think you…liked it. I’m glad you did. I’ve been working on the music a lot. At school, I really thought maybe I would pursue a music career full-time, but while I still love it so much, I’m just not sure that’s who I really am. I love doing other things too, you know? For now, I’ve decided to keep working at Charles’ company. It’s fulfilling, I’m good at it, and I like making money.” He laughs. “And I’m still playing music around town, so that outlet is there. I don’t really want to go on tour for months at a time. We’ve had several opportunities to do that, and I’ve told the guys if they want to pursue that, they should, but my life is here. I feel like for the first time I’m finally becoming more grounded. A life on the road doesn’t sound so appealing. Especially when I have a heart to win over.” He yawns and closes his eyes when he says that and I feel like I’ve just been jump-started.
“You’re not staying because of me, are you?”
“Everything is because of you, Bells. Don’t you know that by now?”
His face relaxes and I realize he’s fallen asleep that quickly…clothes on, outside the covers and all. I get up and put my pajamas on. I had too much to drink, so I take a few Advil and get under the covers as best I can.
When I wake up the next morning, his still fully-clothed body is wrapped around mine. We’re spooning like we were born to do it, and it feels so good, so comforting, that I close my eyes and fall back into a deep sleep. I sleep better than I have in years.
We’re shy with each other when we wake up. He smiles sweetly at me when I turn to see if he’s awake and I wonder how long he’s been watching me. I jump up and get my shower and when I come out, he’s getting off of the phone.
“It’s not looking like an option to get out of here any time today or even tomorrow,” he says. “They’re calling it the biggest airline crisis in history. Can you believe that?” He pulls his clothes out of the suitcase. “I’m sorry, Mira. Not how I pictured our Paris trip of a lifetime.”
“No more apologizing. There’s no way we could have known this would happen.”
“Well, how about we explore around here today and then get back to our list tomorrow…drive to New York sometime tomorrow?”
“Or the day after tomorrow even...”
His smile brightens. “Plan C, I like it.
“How long since you’ve been on a bike?” he asks, as we step outside.
“Holmes Chapel.”
“Jeez,” he teases. “Nearly as long for me. Why did we stop riding?”
“You were too busy surfing.” With Heather, I nearly add but stop myself.
“Surfing is overrated. Kidding,” he quickly amends.
He grabs my arm and we veer to the right, where we try to figure out the rental station. Once we have our bikes, I look over at him and see him as a kid in Holmes Chapel, where we spent nearly every day on a bike. I must look wistful because when he catches me staring, he flushes slightly.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, emotion stuck in my throat.
We start out slowly and while we’re in traffic, I’m a nervous wreck, but once we’re on a quieter path, it gets easier. The breeze through my hair and fresh air on my face are intoxicating. I can’t believe I ever stopped doing this.
We make it to the canal and the way the sun hits the water is perfection. We stop here and there to catch our breath and take it all in but don’t really talk much. It’s a comfortable silence between us, but that shy feeling is still there. We ride for a while and on our last stop, my stomach growls so loud, a nearby squirrel stops running and stares at me.
Jaxson’s laugh bounces off the river, making my stomach twist further. I’ve always loved the way his eyes and nose both crinkle up when he laughs. He motions toward one of the street food places behind us.
“I think it’s time,” he says.
I roll my eyes but laugh along with him.
We get burgers and share an order of poutine so we can say we’ve tried it. While we’re eating, a little curly-haired boy catches our attention and we watch him trying to walk with his mom close behind, hands out at all times to soften the blow when he falls, which is often.
“Do you still want kids?” Jaxson asks, taking a big bite of his burger.
“I either want none or several,” I tell him. “After Tyra…” I take a bite of food to stall all the feelings that stir up when I think of her.
He reaches over and squeezes my arm, letting it linger there on my skin.
“First you and then her…you both made being an only child a lot easier. But once you were gone…that changed everything. Maybe it would be different if I were really a present mother, you know? Someone who likes to hang out with her kid and is really there for them. Maybe it wouldn’t matter then if I had more kids to keep that first one company. But how does a person know ahead of time if they’ll be that way?”
“You will. I know you will. You don’t do anything halfway. You go all in, no matter what you’re doing.”
“Maybe. I mean, hopefully.” I shrug. “What about you? Kids?”
“Definitely. Someone once told me two’s good, but three’s…” His eyebrow quirks up and he waits for me to remember.
“Better,” I finish and feel flushed with the sudden heat. “You better hope you can find a woman who will put up with three little Jaxsons running around then.”
He doesn’t say anything, just smiles that same satisfied smile he’s smiled all day.
“So Dave seems really great,” he says finally.
“He’s the best thing to happen to my mum and me,” I agree. “He loves her and doesn’t act bothered by me being part of the picture. And he gives good advice…in fact, he’s the one who nudged me to take this trip with you.”
“Dave is the best thing to happen to me,” he says, laughing. “I’ll have to find a way to properly thank him when we get back.”
“You just don’t quit, do you?”
“Nope,” he says. “As Nana would say, I’ve lost the plot over you.”
“Aw, I’d love to see her. The last time I saw her was…” I pause because the last time I saw his grandmother was one of my least favorite memories.
“Yeah, that Christmas,” he says, and I know by his expression that he remembers just how awful that night was.