I can’t just sit here and wait for her to come out and tell me she’s leaving, that she’s going back to England, leaving Mallorca and me behind.
I thought that we were finally getting somewhere, especially after what we shared at Jürgen Kuhl’s house.
I must be wrong.
Climbing into the car and sighing deeply, all I can think about is delaying the inevitable. I want to be alone with my memories, pretend that this isn’t happening.
As I click the seatbelt into place, she leaps over the door and settles into the passenger seat, surprising me. I look at her, my confusion evident.
She shrugs, reaching for her seatbelt as she does. “Compañeros, right?”
I nod, laughing.
We put on our sunglasses and I start the car, ready to head off for our next adventure.
My heart lightens and I can’t stop smiling.
Everything is right again.