Chapter 27 #2
“It doesn’t matter,” he agrees. Then starts philosophizing again, “That’s the problem, isn’t it?
Nothing matters beyond us, here and now.
But look at this, Jules. Look at this place, all the people who walked exactly where we’re walking, all the stories before us…
It’s like we’re touching part of a world that doesn’t exist anymore. ”
“Don’t turn my insults into poetry!” I joke. Because, honestly, I don’t know what else to say. “How dare you?”
Jasper just gives a sad little laugh, slightly lost in some bittersweet melancholy or something. I don’t even know what to call it. I’ve never questioned my existence in relation to human history and the universe and everything that happened before me.
I’ve never been in places like this.
So I just look at him, standing here, mesmerized by a view of nothing but stone and sky, trying to understand what he’s thinking. As if reading my mind, Jasper speaks one word, and I don’t know if it’s a curse or a compliment, “Sehnsucht.”
I pull back just enough to meet his eyes, narrowing mine in confusion.
“There’s no word in English for this feeling, but the Germans call it Sehnsucht. It’s a kind of longing for things you’ve never experienced.”
Of course he has to quote some beautiful German word, what a jerk!
Why can’t he miss a chance to surprise me with another totally unexpected fact?
“I think we should hit the road,” It’s the only thing he says afterwards.
I take a deep breath. Then exhale with a sigh.
“I don’t want to go.”
“Me neither,” he replies, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
I feel tingling where his lips touch, my chest vibrating against his as Jasper speaks, “We could stay here, break into the pyramid, discover the treasures they left below, drink filthy cenote water, and live our own Indiana Jones movie.”
I laugh through my nose.
“Mila would chase us down and throw our bodies to the Mayan gods after she finished the torture session.”
“That’s a risk you take when you’re exploring caves with Jasper Hassmann.”
I can’t even describe what happens inside me every time he embraces the idea. It’s a mix of adrenaline, gratitude, and pure joy. Because if there’s one person who could judge me harshly for every decision I make, that’s Jasper.
But no. He comforted me when I quit my job, advised me to try something else. He practically offered his services as a lawyer when I mentioned my plan. And that kind of thing is priceless.
Goddammit! I’m the one with a crush!
My first instinct is to push it back to what it really is: sex. Lust. And, I dare say, a lot of necessity. At least on my side.
So I say, “Well, if we get there early enough, maybe we can explore some other caves before dinner.”
Jasper laughs in pure shock.
“My God, Julie!”
“What?” I shake my head. “Was that such a bad pick-up line?”
“It was terrible.”
“Sounds like something you would say.”
“I would never! There’s no way something that horrible could ever come out of my mouth. My God, you still have so much to learn!” He fires back immediately, reaching for my hand. “Come, I’ll teach you.”
Then he starts guiding us toward the exit.
Us holding hands. My heart about to leap out of my chest.
God! This can’t be happening.
It doesn’t make sense!
But why… why does it feel like I’m about to throw up my lunch every time he touches me?
Why does my chest fill with something I can’t even name every time he looks at me? It’s like some magical air inflating my lungs, lighter than anything. Lighter than gravity. And it just makes me float, float, float… I have no idea how to put my feet on the ground.
Not anymore.
“So Hassmann is a German name, right?” I ask, half desperate. By now I’m grasping at anything, anything at all, to stop this from happening.
It’s already happening.
He nods.
“And you speak German?” He nods again. “You have a German surname and speak German?”
“Where are you getting at?”
“Nowhere. I’m just wondering that if your family came from Germany in a generation close enough for you to speak the language, then…”
He slows down, just to look at me, one eyebrow raised and nothing else.
“Are you trying to figure out where my grandparents were in 1940, Julie?”
“No, but if I were, would you tell me that…”
“My grandpa arrived in New Jersey fleeing the war.”
“But fleeing from whom, exactly?”
“He was a poor fifteen-year-old Jewish boy, completely alone on a ship, because everyone he knew had been killed in a concentration camp, so there’s that” Jasper dramatizes a little, the way he must be used to doing to sway a jury, but still… wow.
I don’t even know what to say after that.
“Shit!” For him and his family for what happened.
“Yeah.”
I start to panic a little. A lot. I really preferred it when I knew nothing and just thought he was a big idiot.
“Okay, so tell me again how old you were when you killed your first puppy?”
He looks at me with eyes wide in shock. Only now he seems to understand what I’m doing, so he bites his lower lip, trying to suppress a smile in a gesture I can only call ridiculously seductive, and says, “At this point, nothing I say will make you stop falling for me, you know that, don’t you?”
“In your dreams…” I start, the same argument I always use when I have nothing else to say, but my voice is too weak to continue.
“And, just so you remember, I have two dogs,” he interrupts, casually. “Alive and healthy.”
“That you stole from your ex in California and smuggled them on a plane when you ran home?”
“No, I drove with them from Los Angeles to New York. They slept at the Ritz-Carlton in Denver. When did you ever sleep at the Ritz-Carlton, Julie?”
Considering I’d have to sell a kidney to pull that off, never. I’d rather keep all my organs where they belong, thank you very much.
We pass the entrance gate to the archaeological site and head toward the parking lot. Jasper is looking around, searching for the car. And I am asking myself if the reason why he drove across the country with his dogs was because he doesn’t like getting on planes.
I wait until we get in the car to ask.
“You’re really afraid of flying?”
“I didn’t drive to New York because of that, I drove because of them.”
“I know, but…”
“It didn’t start there,” he says, expressionless.
I had spent all this time enjoying asking questions and hearing honest answers, but I never considered that there might be topics he’s not interested in discussing. This is definitely one of them.
So I’m genuinely surprised that Jasper Hassmann is here, beside me, as open as I am.
And as vulnerable.
“Back then I was traveling all the time and never thought anything bad could happen, then about two years ago, I was on a business trip to Tokyo and the plane depressurized over Alaska. It was completely chaos: screaming, panic, and the only thing I could think of was: fuck, if I die now, who the hell will take care of my dogs?”
“You’re afraid of flying because of your dogs?”