26. Lila
TWENTY-SIX
Lila
I was completely freaking out.
In my desperate, misguided attempt to be the cool, chill girl for once in my life, I’d managed to let the entire last day of the trip slip through my fingers without mentioning the status of our relationship once.
Now Harrison snoozed peacefully beside me, hugging me tightly to his chest. Our bags were packed and ready by the door. In less than twelve hours, we’d be at the airport on our way home. After a blissful final day in paradise, I should be sleeping just as soundly as the man curled around me. Instead, my mind raced with possibilities and questions.
I needed to get up. I needed to pace.
Suddenly, I couldn't breathe.
Carefully, I peeled Harrison’s arm away from my waist. I moved at a snail’s pace so as not to shift the mattress too much. I got to my feet, turning to check that Harrison was still asleep. To my relief, he was still out cold, his cheek smushed against the pillow. One stubborn lock of his hair had sprung free from his small bun and lay across his face.
He looked freaking adorable.
I tiptoed toward the door, and turned the latch slowly. I eased the door open and stepped out into the cool night air. Now outside, I could finally breathe, and I could feel how damp my body was. My T-shirt stuck to my clammy chest. I pinched the top of it and waved it to fan it out and get some air flow.
I slumped into the small wicker chair on our patio and breathed a sigh of relief. My head felt clearer than it had all night. To say that today had been amazing would be an understatement. And the fact that Harrison had planned it, all down to our dinner reservation, had absolutely melted my heart. He wasn’t the same man I’d arrived here with.
That both excited and terrified me. This bond that we’d built—the one I’d felt was so strong—how would it hold up once we were off the island? Once we were outside of our vacation bubble?
What did Harrison want? How would he act? I knew what I wanted. I wanted to nurture what we’d started, tend it carefully and watch what it could become.
I knew it was too soon, but I wanted to be his girlfriend.
Despite our differences, we felt right. I got him out of his comfort zone and he grounded me. Maybe he was rough around the edges, but he was a good person. I saw it in the way he’d been protective of me from the very start. I saw it in the way he spoke of his parents. I had even seen it before this trip, with his unwavering loyalty to Oliver.
I’d be lucky to have him in my life. I had intended to tell him all that today, but the moment never felt right. Then by the time the evening rolled around, I’d convinced myself it could wait.
But then the doubt crept in. What if my feelings were one-sided? What if returning to the real world would be like stepping into an ice-cold shower? Would this all fade away into a ‘what were we thinking?’ situation? Was this destined to just become a strange story for our friend group? The great lore of Harrison and Lila’s trip switch fling?
I cradled my head in my hands and groaned.
“Everything alright, dear?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. I probably would have screamed had it not been for the calm, comforting tone of the voice.
Maria stood before me, wearing blue pajamas and carrying a large laundry basket. I clutched a hand to my chest and swallowed my heart, which had jumped into my throat.
“Sorry, you scared me.” I sat up in the chair. “I’m fine, just couldn’t sleep.”
She smiled. “That makes two of us.”
“I just figured I’d get some air,” I said, meeting her warm gaze.
“Your boyfriend doesn't have the same problem?”
“He’s not...” I stopped my sentence. While it still wasn’t the truth, denying it felt wrong, too.
Maria chuckled and shifted her basket. “Not so sure anymore, eh?”
My face likely said it all. I could feel it growing hot.
“I knew it. I could sense something between you two.” She tapped the side of her head. “I’m glad I got you out of that shared room.”
My eyebrows pulled together. “What? But you said?—”
She laughed harder. “I have another shared dorm room that I could have put more guests in.”
Her laugh made my lip tug upward. “That one bed almost got us into a lot of trouble, you know.”
She waved a hand. “I took my chances. I saw the way that he looked at you. This island is meant for young love. I couldn't let you waste it.”
“Well, love is a very strong word.” I bit my lip. “We don't... we didn’t.” I groaned and cradled my face again. “The truth is, I have no idea what we are or what’s going to happen.” Blurting this out to Maria made me feel better, even if she was virtually a stranger.
The skin around her eyes crinkled as she studied me.
“You know, when I met my husband, I knew he was the one. You kids make things so complicated. You take time for granted.”
Sadness gripped me as she stared off into the night sky.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Here I am rambling about my problems. They’re so silly.” We sat in silence for a minute.
“He used to snore. It kept me up at night. Now that he’s gone, the funny thing is, I still can’t sleep. So I’ve given up trying.” She gestured to the laundry basket. “The only difference now is it’s so quiet.”
I sniffled. I could barely imagine being in love, let alone losing it. Her grief must be overwhelming.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered.
“Don’t be.” She shrugged. “I’m okay. Life happens, and I’m grateful for the time I had with him.”
“You’re lucky to have loved someone so much.”
She snorted. “Luck had nothing to do with it. It took work, and communication, and mutual respect. You could have it too, you know.” Her head tilted in the direction of my room, where Harrison still slept soundly.
“We’ll see.” I said, not knowing what else I could offer her.
She gave an exaggerated eye roll.
“There is no ‘we’ll see,’ there is only ‘I’ll try.’” she said, walking away. “Good night, and safe travels tomorrow.”
“Lila, that’s robbery.” Harrison looked appalled as I set a book on the counter and waited for the cashier to ring me up.
I sipped my overpriced coffee, savoring the life returning to me.
“It’s my ritual,” I insisted, swiping my card.
He cocked an eyebrow and picked up my selection to examine it.
“ The Body Downstairs . A romance on the way here and a murder mystery on the way home. Should I be worried?”
“Not if you hand it over and stop questioning my purchases.” I took the book from his hands.
After barely getting any sleep last night, I didn’t have any capacity to stress about where Harrison and I stood as we made the journey home. I was far too exhausted. I had passed out on his shoulder almost immediately for the entire flight from Santorini to Munich. Now, just one long haul flight from Munich to Denver, and we’d be home. It felt natural to be here with Harrison this time, completely different from how it had felt running into him at the Denver airport before this whole debacle had even started.
It was fine that we hadn’t talked anything through. It wasn't like we were being separated, not really. We shared friends, we had each other’s numbers. We only lived ten minutes away from each other, for crying out loud. Everything would work out just fine. My stress last night had been for nothing.
When we boarded our flight, Harrison took my luggage and put it in the overhead bin. He looked good in his gray sweats and black T-shirt, and it felt freeing to no longer have to pretend that I was immune to his good looks. I started to climb into my seat, but bumped into Harrison who had started to do the same.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, jumping back.
“It’s fine.” I smiled. “Do you want the window?”
“No, no. I don't know what I was thinking.” He shook his head. “Go for it.”
My eyebrows pulled together, but I stepped into the window seat. While he hadn’t been cold or distant yesterday or this morning, there was something different about Harrison now; something I could only describe as awkwardness.
He slid into the aisle seat. The flight attendant came by and we both asked for coffee. It would be a struggle to stay up this whole flight, plus wait until a decent time to go to sleep once we arrived back in Denver, but it was the only way to avoid jet lag. Harrison glanced over at me before looking back at his personal TV screen. He looked at me again and opened his mouth before shaking his head and turning away.
“What?” I asked, keeping my voice light.
A small pit formed in my stomach. Not panic, exactly, but it still didn’t feel great.
“Nothing,” he said, forcing the smallest of smiles. “Are you just going to read, or...”
“Probably,” I said. “Or maybe we could watch a movie? Press play at the same time, and?—”
“Nah, I’m good.” He looked pained by the suggestion.
“Oh, okay.” My smile faltered. Why was this so weird?
Harrison opened his sketchbook and started drawing. When it became clear he wasn’t trying to engage in any additional conversation, I placed my noise-cancelling headphones over my ears and pressed play on some random movie.
Two hours into the flight, and none of the movies I tried did anything to distract me.
Harrison had been bent over his sketchbook the entire time, not so much as looking up even when I glanced over.
I wiped my clammy hands against my sweats. The air in the cabin tasted especially stale. Every moment of progression toward our end destination made me feel heavier, as the weight of all the unsaid words finally caught up with me.
Had I been na?ve to think we had anything real? It wasn’t like I was the first person in the world to be temporarily blinded by a vacation romance. I had been convinced it was more than that, but with every passing second, the person sitting next to me felt more and more like a stranger. It was absolutely not what I wanted, but I felt powerless to stop it.
When the meal service came by and we were served our food, he finally glanced my way. I shot him a smile. He smiled back, but barely, and it looked uncomfortable and forced.
We ate our overly salty trays of food in silence. I almost wished we were back in coach so at least our elbows would occasionally bump into each other while we cut up our lunch.
I should say something, but what? It would just be weird now.
So we sat in silence for the remainder of the eight-hour flight.
I never thought I’d be so happy to see the Denver airport once we landed and deplaned. The silence had been suffocating. Harrison’s brows were drawn together and his gaze was locked ahead.
“It’s good to be back,” I said in what might be the most pathetic attempt at conversation in the history of humanity.
He looked at me as if surprised to hear my voice. “Oh, yeah.”
We breezed through customs, and before I knew it, we were back in the main terminal. Down that escalator right in front of us was the TSA line where we had first run into each other, before this whole thing started.
Suddenly it felt like no time had passed, like we were in some weird Twilight Zone episode and the trip had never actually happened. The only evidence that it had was my pounding heart and Harrison’s expression of concern. He no longer scowled at me. Now he just looked lost. I wanted to hug him, but he felt miles away.
“Are you taking the train?” he asked at the same time I said, “I parked in the garage.”
I laughed uncomfortably as he scratched the back of his neck.
“You drove?” he asked.
“Yeah. Do you want a ride?” I offered. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to say yes or if I wanted a little space to breathe.
“Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head and hitched his finger in the direction of the train platform. “The train goes right by my place. I don't want you to go out of your way.”
I felt a stab of disappointment. I guess even with the awkwardness, deep down I wasn’t ready to walk away from him.
I forced myself to smile and swallowed down any weird energy.
“I guess this is it, then.” I meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth I became terrified that they held a grain of truth.
His face contorted into an odd expression, as if he desperately wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out. He was standing next to me, so he reached around my shoulders and pulled me in for a side hug.
A side hug.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
“Uh huh,” I choked out.
I gave him a little wave before scurrying away as fast as my legs would carry me.
There was traffic, so my ride home gave me the perfect opportunity to hyper-fixate on every beat of the strange interaction Harrison and I had just shared.
What did it mean? Did he not want to make this work? Make what work? We’d never actually talked about anything. But he said I was more than a vacation fling. That had to mean something. Unless the weird vibes I could sense radiating out of every pore in his body were actually regret.
My thoughts swirled all the way home, throughout my shower, and continued while I cozied up under a blanket in front of my TV.
My finger hovered over his contact in my phone a dozen times. I couldn’t bring myself to text him. Now that I was back in my living room, the magic between us felt even more like a lucid fever dream.
So instead of Harrison, I messaged someone else. Charlie was back from Fiji and would lovingly help me dissect the situation like only a best friend could.