Unwanted Stars (29 page)

"You're so good to me," I said.

"You deserve it all, you know."

"Well," I said, looking away. He reached across the table and gently gripped my chin.

"I mean it. You deserve every bit of kindness, every bit of romance that I can possibly give you."

"Wow."

"I love you. And I desperately want you to be happy."

"I am...when I'm with you."

"I hope that soon you can sort through all this with your family. Give them a chance to explain."

"I don't know..." I said, my words trailing.

"I know it seems insurmountable right now. I get it. But they love you and you love them. Love is love."

"You make it sound so simple."

"They could've said no, Auden."

"What?" I asked, taken aback by his matter-of-fact tone.

"Charlotte and Stanford, your parents. They chose you."

"My nan pressured them into it. They wanted one of their own. And they got stuck with me."

"Is that what you really believe?"

"Yes," I said with a definitive nod.

"I haven't met your family yet, but from everything you've told me, I don't believe that for a second," he said, wiping the corners of his mouth with the cloth napkin. "They wanted you. They made a choice and never looked back."

I couldn't look him in the eye. I stared out at the lights of Paris, begging them to pull me away from this uncomfortable conversation.

"I'm not ready to forgive them," I muttered. "Please don't pressure me."

"I won't. I promise. I just want you to realize how loved you are. And not just by me. Do you get that?"

"I do,” I said, one tear slipping down my cheek. I wiped it away and Campbell took my hands in his.

"I won't say anything more about them tonight. Alright?"

"Thank you," I said, nodding, still unable to look him in the eye.

Our dessert of macarons and chocolate truffles was delivered to the table. As we nibbled on the sweets, I felt my mood lifting.

"You're smiling again," Campbell said, observing me before biting into a macaron.

"Chocolate fixes everything," I said, taking Campbell's hand in mine. "And so do you."

"After I pay the check, let's go up to the top observation deck. I've never been up there."

"Me neither. This is as far up as I've gone," I said, excited to see the sights from so high up in the sky.

We took the public lift up to the top, and it was astonishing. Lights as far as the eye could see, the river flowing through the city, and the bridges that crossed it. It was gorgeous. I'd never seen anything quite like it. Campbell held me close as we took in the sights. The air was chilly and the warmth of his body was comforting.

"I'm going to be a total tourist in a sec," I said, searching my purse for my phone. "Can you use your mad French skills to ask that couple to take our picture?"

"Sure," he said, taking the phone from me and walking to the couple. The man nodded, taking the phone. Campbell showed him how to operate the camera feature. We stood with our backs to the city and smiled. Pure elation and joy consumed me as the man took several shots of us.

"Merci," I said, taking the phone and looking at the pictures one by one.

"You look proud," I said, intending to give Campbell a hard time. He didn't even blink.

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm the luckiest bloke on the planet. I have you."

"Thanks," I said, planting a kiss on his chin.

"You ready to get outta here?" he asked with a shiver.

"Yeah, take me home, doctor."

The hotel room was dim. Campbell and I were naked and completely spent from making love. As usual, we held each other and talked about everything under the sun, anything that popped into our heads. Sometimes it was silly stuff like foods that grossed us out (he loved teasing me about my fear of mayonnaise), and other times it was far more serious. Tonight was a serious discussion.

"What's your biggest regret?" I whispered, stroking his arm with the tips of my fingers.

"In my lifetime or with you?"

"Lifetime."

"Hmm," he pondered. "I spent a lot of time being so serious. Sometimes I regret that."

"What do you mean? Like being a doctor?"

"I love what I do, but yeah. The last few years, I've had total tunnel vision. Sometimes I wish I'd relaxed more. Lived my life more like you."

"But you're so successful. You put your patients first. That's admirable."

"I guess," he said, shifting his position so that I could feel his breath on my shoulder. I never thought I'd love the feel of someone's breath against my skin.

"What about you? What's your biggest regret?" he asked, tracing my features with his index finger.

"Not trying harder with my sister," I muttered, then paused. "Ugh, I've never said it out loud before."

"That's a big one."

"And now I'm terrified that we'll become strangers. Like this revelation lets her off the hook or something."

"Do you really think that'll happen?"

"Who knows? I never thought a random woman would show up at my door claiming to be my mother."

"Good point," he said, skimming his nose against the skin of my neck. It tickled and I squirmed. "Proudest moment?"

"Hmmm...lifetime or with you?"

"With me," he said.

"I was kinda proud of the impression I made on your family. I think I did good."

"Um...yeah, you did. They loved you."

"Thank God. What's yours?"

"The alley in Rome," he said.

"You're such a guy," I groaned, rolling my eyes. He planted a dramatic kiss on my cheek.

Silence.

"Biggest fear?" I whispered, almost too afraid to ask. Interesting how that happens...afraid to ask a question about fear.

Without hesitation, he answered, "Losing you."

My eyes locked with his. His brow was knitted and I worried that he regretted saying it.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," he said. "Sometimes it feels too good to be true. You, us. I don't ever want it to end."

"I don't either," I said, shaking my head, still focusing my eyes on his.

"Good." He didn't seem convinced...or comforted. It's amazing how even the strongest and most confident of men can become so vulnerable when they reveal their fears.

I sat up, straddled him, and pushed the hair from his eyes. "Listen to me, okay? I want you, this, us...for as long as I'm lucky enough to have it. Losing you would destroy me."

"Me too," he said.

Leaning down, I pressed my forehead to his, doing my best to slow my anxious breathing. I'd never revealed so much of myself before. I was exposed, naked, vulnerable. But, more importantly, I was safe. I was cared for. I was loved.

Two blissful days with Campbell and then it was time to say goodbye. His leaving me was becoming harder to handle, but I was determined to keep it to myself. He had patients, he had a business, he had a life. I would never be “that girl,” the one who expects their man to drop everything in his world for her. At the same time, I found myself aching for him when he wasn't with me. But his words stayed with me.

We'll be fine.

And I knew we would.

We arrived in Madrid early this morning after an overnight bus ride from Paris. I woke up with my face pressed to the window. I hadn't slept well at all and I was nervous to lead this one, but I knew it was time to sink or swim. Just like in Paris, I simply needed to lead day one and then they'd have two extra days to explore on their own, which meant I could spend my time studying the landscape, the museums, and the culture so that next time I wouldn't be nearly as anxious.

I had the distinct pleasure (yeah, right) of having to wake my tour members when we arrived at our destination. This was new. I'd never done an overnight on the bus before. It wasn't too terrible thanks to everyone's handheld devices. Tablets, cell phones, and Kindles kept everyone busy until they passed out. It was time to sink or swim. I didn't have Anabelle or Tom to hold my hand anymore. It was all me.

I stood up, microphone in hand, and spoke to the group in my most calming of voices.

"Good morning, everyone. We're here in gorgeous Spain. As you wake up, take a look around, take in the scenery. This country is stunning and I'm sure it will be a favorite for many of you."

A few groans and many yawns were heard on the bus as people came to. Arms stretched in the air as I continued, "Madrid is Spain's cultural center. It has a splendid roster of museums and ranks as one of Europe's foremost art centers. So, art lovers, you will really enjoy the next few days here. You can hit the major museums by day, embark upon an impromptu tapas crawl, and soak up theater, opera, and flamenco by night."

"When can we check in?" asked Rachel, a tiny blond seated near the front.

"The Hotel Plaza Mayor won't be ready for us until this afternoon at three, but we're having breakfast at a lovely restaurant before our walking tour this morning. They have impeccable washrooms where we can freshen up for the day. I know it's not ideal, but this way we have more time to see the city."

I ignored the groans and whispers. I wasn't exactly thrilled to be walking the streets of a foreign city unshowered and gross, but we had to roll with it and enjoy the day.

#firstworldproblems

Yeah, I just hashtagged in my journal! Deal with it!

Hours later, everyone was looking a little more awake after our breakfast and freshen-up time. It was time for the walking tour, and I was ready to do this before sending them on their way.

We were starting at the Palacio Real de Madrid and would be visiting several places during our three hour tour of the narrow-alleyed Austrias district.

"The Royal Palace is truly something to see. There are over 2,000 rooms inside, and each room has been lavishly decorated. It was built in 1750 and was the official residence of the royal family until 1931. Now it's used only for state functions," I said as we stood outside the enormous palace.

We took a short guided tour through the palace, stopping in the Throne Room and the famous Porcelain Room, which was covered from floor to ceiling in a garish display of green, white, and purple porcelain. In my opinion it was completely gaudy, but the tour members were impressed by it.

We visited several palaces and churches, and stopped for lunch at the trendy Mercado de San Miguel, a popular tourist attraction with gourmet food stalls, fresh fruits and vegetables, and incredible sweets. I picked up bags of fresh fruit to keep in my hotel room as well as a bottle of wine to enjoy by myself as my tour members partied the night away. Normally I liked to go out with them as much as possible, but I still wasn't myself. I was still angry, still kind of numb, and still unsure of who I was. Spending some much needed solo time with a rich bottle of red sounded like a pretty good evening indeed.

We ended the tour at three o’clock in the Plaza Mayor. Our bus driver had delivered our bags to the hotel, and tour members were free to check in or continue to explore the city. After answering several questions from tour members asking for restaurant and nightlife recommendations, I checked in and made my way to my room.

Our hotel, as most of them were, was considered “budget friendly” so we could pass those savings on to our tour members, and I'd grown used to staying in two to three star places. But this place was a gem. The hotel was a converted old church run by a family. The rooms were stunning and stylish, and I smiled to myself as I inspected my digs. Knowing that I'd be staying here for three full nights was comforting.