Down Under With Dad’s Best Friend by Flora Ferrari

Chapter Twenty-Four

Candace

“Yesterday was good, wasn’t it?” I say, wistfully, remembering.

“It wasn’t just good,” Sean says, looking up from where he’s folding clothes into a suitcase. “It was amazing. You had the greatest of all great ideas.”

“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” I chuckle. Our fast-track date journey had gone like a charm. First, there had been the fight and the ensuing make-up sex, then our movie and takeout night. Or, afternoon, really. I’d even video called one of my friends back home to cross off another milestone, though it had felt weird to bring someone else inside the bubble that has become our lives this week.

“Are you sure this is everything?” Sean asks, looking around my tiny hotel room again. It seems so small and basic in comparison to his suite. I think he might have ruined me. I’m not sure I’m going to be satisfied with staying somewhere cheap like this ever again.

“I think so,” I say, glancing around. I’ve already checked everything three times.

But, of course, I have. Because I’ll do anything I can to delay this whole process. I don’t want to leave. I don’t ever want to leave.

And considering how little I’ve seen of it, it definitely isn’t Melbourne itself that has enchanted me.

“Alright, then,” Sean says, and I nod at him reluctantly. “We’ll get this back to my suite and combine it with your new suitcase, and then we’ll be good to go.”

“Right,” I say, unenthusiastically. “What time did you say your flight is, again?”

“Two hours after yours, like it, always has been,” Sean says, with a twinkling smile. “You don’t have to keep checking.”

“I know, I know,” I sigh, following him out of the room and down the hall. I need to check out, otherwise, they’ll charge me for one more day. But I’d rather pay for another day than leave Sean.

Not that it matters. He’s flying out two hours after my flight leaves. So that means, even if I deliberately miss my flight, I’ll only get two more hours with him. If that. He might want to go to his lounge early, given that he’s likely flying at least business class.

It’s just that I don’t want any of this to end, and it feels like it must be. We haven’t even talked about where all this might go when the week is over. Now that we’re here, preparing to go to our respective homes, I really wish we had.

But now I don’t want to bring it up, because I don’t want to hear him say it. I don’t want to hear the confirmation that this is our last day together. I don’t want to know for sure that it’s all over.

Even though, realistically, I know it is.

I just don’t know how two people can have such a strong connection and then just… what? Never see each other again? It doesn’t feel right.

I know I haven’t had a lot of relationships, but surely I can’t be that wrong about this.

That is, assuming we both feel it. I might be the only one.

I keep silent on the ride back to Sean’s hotel – which, admittedly, is a very short one. I don’t even have to do a thing, just get in the back of a car and then out again a few minutes later. Sean carries my one bag effortlessly as if it’s made out of straw. And when we get back up to his suite and I see the other waiting suitcase that we prepared earlier, I can’t help but stand still, floored by that terrible sinking feeling.

“What is it?” Sean asks, immediately rushing to my side when he sees my face.

“I just…” I stop, shaking my head. I have the awful feeling that if I say it, I’m going to cry.

“You just… don’t want to go?” Sean says, his voice a guess, a guess filled with hope.

I look up at him, and all I can do is slowly shake my head from side to side, feeling my face crumple under the weight of the tears that already now start to pour from my eyes.

In the space of a single instant, his arms are around me. He holds me close against his chest, even though it means my wet eyes will probably smear mascara all over his nice shirt. I can’t hold back anymore. I feel the weight of a torrent of emotions rushing through me. All the newness of us, and how this past week has felt. How amazing it’s been. The thought of going home and the complete misery it brings washes over me. The terror of never seeing him again. It’s all too much. I find myself sobbing against him, my shoulders shaking up and down as he holds me tight.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice fierce but also raw and breaking. “Please don’t cry.”

I manage to get myself together just enough to pull back and look at him, even though tears are still pouring down my face and my breathing is still ragged. “I c-can’t stop,” I sob. “I just… I d-don’t want to lose this.”

“You don’t have to lose this,” he says, even more fiercely than before. He cups my face with one hand, his thumb smoothing away each new tear that falls. “Why would you ever think I would be going anywhere?”

“But you are,” I say. His words, and the calming motion of his thumb across my skin, help to get my breathing under control – but I still feel like I’m about a second away from breaking. “You’re going home. And I’m going home. We’re not staying together.”

“I know, but…” Sean hesitates, studying me closely, his eyes roving over my face as if in search of something. “Do you… do you want to stay?”

“Yes!” I exclaim. Finally, he’s getting it.

“Do you want to stay with me, no matter where I am?” he presses. “Even if it means not going home, not staying here? If it means going somewhere that isn’t as exciting?”

“It’s not about the place,” I tell him, clinging desperately to him, my hands fisting in the front of his shirt to keep him close. “It’s about being with you.”

“Candace,” Sean says, and he seems to take a breath that has me hanging in the air with him. For a moment it’s like we’re both suspended, waiting. And then he plunges in. “I’m falling in love with you. No, not falling – fallen. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I say, tears falling from my eyes again. This time there is more happiness in the air, but the sadness remains. Even if we love each other, is it enough? Do we still have to leave one another? Lose what this is, what it could be?

“Are you sure?” Sean asks. Both his hands cup my face, holding me urgently, studying my eyes so deeply it’s like he’s trying to read my mind. “Not just about loving me. What you said about being willing to go anywhere to be together. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” I gasp, and I’ve never been so sure about an answer I’ve ever given in my whole life. “Yes, that’s what I want. I don’t want anything else. I mean it.”

He bends his head and kisses me, so urgent and wild that I feel my knees going weak, and it’s only the fact that he’s holding me up that keeps me in place.

And I have a feeling he knows just how to hold me up, no matter what – and that he’s going to fix this so that we can both be happy. In my bones, suddenly, I know it.