Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chelsea
Challenge: Forgive someone
Bas took me to see the Parthenon, and I shot selfies that made us look like everything was great, but I wasn’t speaking. What was there left to say? Bas had made decisions for my future without even asking me. Did he expect me to be overjoyed? To just chase after him because he dangled promises of travel like it was candy?
Still, he kept trying to spin some humor out of the situation, saying things like, “I’m Greeking out,” or “That temple is really ruin -ing this view.”
I hated myself for laughing. I hated that he was making it hard to stay mad. He was making it impossible to say goodbye.
The irony was that he was right, in principle. Only a week ago, I’d been so lonely without him, I jumped in his car and ditched my best friend with barely a thought. A week ago, I’d been joking about moving to some remote town on the French Riviera. Because Bas was right: I did want the adventure. I did want to experience the world.
And I wanted it with him .
But I balked at how he presumed. It scared me that he’d accepted the job and informed me of my options rather than the reverse. I’d thought we were a team. And the fact he was going to let me get on that plane alone meant he wouldn’t fight for us.
That was why I was so pissed.
When we got back to the hotel, he made use of the kitchen to cook me a real American cheeseburger and fries, and the taste of home nearly restored my soul. Greece was lucky to have him.
I’d cried myself to sleep, thinking back on the past three months with him. We’d crossed paths so often and so randomly, it was like destiny had a stake. But here, in Greece, the gods were taking sides, and we now found ourselves between Scylla and Charybdis.
The next morning, I dragged my grumpy self to his car only to be met by his cheery wave like the finality of the situation was no big deal. But he couldn’t hide his own emotional turmoil. His smile was drawn, and his eyes didn’t twinkle when he forced a laugh. As he loaded my suitcase into the trunk, he said, “It’s not too late to stay here.”
“It’s not too late to come with me,” I’d retorted. But it was. The flight was full. I’d checked. I was going home alone. At least Elizabeth would be there to greet me. We’d get drunk and commiserate over men. I’d tell her, “See? I was right all along.”
One thing was clear. Even if it was killing him to let me go, he wasn’t going to beg me to change my mind. And even though every step away from him felt like walking through quicksand, I wasn’t going to beg him to follow me.
He drove me to the Athens airport, attempting to lighten the tension with the kind of small talk I imagined a good father might make. Looks like clear skies. There shouldn’t be any flight delays. What the hell does that guy think he’s doing? You’ve got your passport, right? It annoyed me he could act like he wasn’t drop-kicking me out of his life.
But his charming monologue made it impossible to stay angry, and by the time we were waiting in line to check my bag, all I felt was a deep sorrow.
If I’d harbored any hopes Bas would surprise me by producing a last-minute ticket to join me, they died when he hefted my suitcase onto the divider and stood by as I gathered my travel documents.
The woman at the computer got a curious look on her face and turned to me. “Your luggage is buzzing.”
While people waited for us to move along, she opened my bag and discovered my vibrator, in the on position. Someone in the line behind me snorted, and I wanted the earth to swallow me.
Bas stepped right up and held out his hand. “Here, I’ll take that. It’s mine.”
The woman slapped it into his hand with a disgusted expression.
I buried my head in Basil’s shoulder to hide my shame, but his chest rumbled with laughter. God, he smelled good, like some kind of holiday candle: vanilla and cinnamon. It distressed me how much I wanted to bottle up his scent and carry it with me.
As we made our way to security, I said, “I can’t believe you took the bullet for me.”
“Literally.” He chuckled. “It’s a pretty excellent souvenir.”
Our laughs faded when we reached the fork in our road. I’d left too many things unsaid. I’d played the game of love and lost. I’d never expected the end to feel like this. I wanted to still be mad. Anger was powerful and righteous. Instead, my heart ached, and my head spun. It felt an awful lot like vertigo, except that wasn’t right. I’d chosen solid ground. I’d chosen not to jump. So why did this feel like falling without a net?
“I’m going to miss you.” My voice cracked. I could have professed my undying love, but love wouldn’t solve anything. I had no more weapons at my disposal.
“You could always stay.” He smiled, but his eyes looked strained. “Will you call me when you get home?”
Home. My stomach cramped. What did that word even mean? “If you’d like.”
“I’d like.” He tucked a strand of hair over my ear, then with an awkward hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed me quickly. “Have a safe flight.”
I waved to him as I passed through security and turned to go to the crowded waiting area. Voices in Greek and English fought for dominance, a perfect metaphor for the last few months. A girl of about ten with a long black braid sat beside me, contentedly nibbling on a ring-shaped piece of bread.
I pictured Bas in his kitchen, rolling out pastries with cinnamon and butter until my mouth watered. I closed my eyes, and I could almost smell the spices. I could almost smell him.
Usually I loved waiting to board a plane. The anticipation was part of the journey. But my future suddenly didn’t excite me. I wasn’t going anywhere new. I was running home. Bas had asked what was so exciting for me back there, and I’d dodged the question.
My whole life, I’d desperately longed to travel extensively, but I suddenly realized why I’d always lacked the courage to move away: how can you leave home if you don’t have a home? Oh, I had a house, and a permanent address, but before I met Bas, I’d been traveling from one shallow hookup to another. I’d never once set down roots. Bas changed that by being a fortress and inviting me in.
My family was a joke. In less than an hour with Basil’s family, who doesn’t even speak English, I’d felt more welcomed than in my own home. My mom wouldn’t miss me. I’d always worry about her, but I couldn’t make her choices, and I shouldn’t be letting her poor choices dictate mine. That door had closed, and it was time to turn the lock.
My job was finally fully mobile. Nobody knew if I was in an office in New York or in my pajamas in bed in Charlottesville or in a crappy apartment in downtown Athens.
But I still had one reason to go home, one person waiting for me. I swiped my phone to video chat and hit call.
Elizabeth answered on the first ring. “Is everything okay?”
My face screwed up with relief to hear her voice again. “No. I’m not.”
“What is it?”
I probably should have taken the time to make small talk, to apologize again for being here instead of with her, but I frowned and said nothing.
“What’s going on, Chelsea? Where are you?”
I pressed my fist to my mouth to hold back a sob, but it leaked out the corners of my eyes. “Tell me you can live without me.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
My voice broke. “You’re the only person in the world I’ve ever truly cared about.”
“No. I’m not. Not anymore.”
“I have to know you don’t need me.” I started to cry like I had a day ago for the exact opposite reason. “Please. Please.”
She said, “I love you, Chelsea. I will always need you, but honey, I don’t need you here . Whether we’re next-door neighbors or halfway around the world, we’ll always be the best of friends. Always.”
How had she known? I laid my face in my hands and let the tears flow.
I heard her say, “Chelsea, it’s okay if you go on vacation and just never come home.”
My breath steadied, and I faced the screen. She’d told me what I needed to hear. We were solid no matter what I decided to do. “I have to go.”
“I support you. In every way.” She blew me a kiss. “I love you. You can always come home.”
I hung up, hearing the word home like an echo.
How could I go home?
I’d invented all my excuses. It wasn’t because I wanted to test Bas. That was part of it, but mainly, Bas had made the decision without asking me, and so it wasn’t my decision for me . I couldn’t go forward always thinking I’d thrown my life away to chase after a man.
Sitting there, alone, without so much as a vibrator to my name, I saw how flimsy and sad it all was. I loved Bas. I loved how he always respected me and put my happiness first. How he wanted to really know me and then overlooked my many flaws. I loved that he’d figured out I was a disaster, and he saw those characteristics as features rather than bugs. I loved that he could call me on my bullshit and make me be myself, make me a better me. I loved that he never stopped trying, never gave up making corny, terrible jokes, or finding ways to cheer me up, make me laugh. I loved how he kissed me, touched me, loved me.
I loved him body, heart, mind, and soul. I didn’t need him to follow me home to prove he felt the same. I already knew it. Everything else I’d said had been those old fears, the Old Chelsea rearing her ugly head.
If he loved me the way he said, maybe, just maybe it was because I was worthy of love. Maybe I had something to give him. I never had to pretend to be someone else or trick him into wanting me. He gave his love freely, and I’d been the one exacting a toll.
I saw clearly that he’d tried doing things my way, taking on all the risk by himself. But I’d never shown him he could trust me to do the same. In fact, by running away, I’d only proved that I hadn’t changed one bit. Why should I expect him to chase after me? He’d be making the exact same mistake I chastised my mother for.
How could I have been so stupid?
I’d created my checklist to distract me from pain. Leaning into the challenges had opened me up to finding Bas, my favorite distraction of all. And true to his word, Bas had shown me the world.
I always thought I had wanderlust—a yearning to see the world. But adventure had a name now, and without Bas, it was meaningless.
Whether we stayed in Greece or went back to Charlottesville wouldn’t matter as long as we were there together. We’d always be home. And suddenly, I heard what everyone had been telling me all along. I wasn’t my mother, and Bas wasn’t my father. I wasn’t giving up my autonomy to be with him; I was choosing my freedom. I wasn’t staying with him out of fear or desperation, but I sure as fuck was letting fear drive me away.
And it struck me. I’d questioned my mom’s decision to chase after my dad whenever he’d abandoned us. She’d never asked him to change, to grow the fuck up and stand up for her. She’d never fought for something better for her. For them. For us. She’d just cheapened herself to keep him. I suddenly got why Bas had to stay. He was growing up, taking responsibility, making a stand, not just for himself, but for us. For our future. Following me home would be an abdication of everything we’d dreamed of for him. And I was the asshole here. It was time I grew up, too.
Elizabeth once said I’d eventually be forced to make a choice between all or nothing, and I’d choose nothing out of a fear of a hypothetical future I couldn’t control. She was right. I could have everything I’d ever wanted with Bas, if I’d only take that step. I knew he’d always catch me. We’d always catch each other.
We’d kissed under a bridge at sunset with bells ringing and pigeons watching. We were destined to love each other forever.
In a sudden panic, I rushed to the counter and waved for someone’s attention, explaining poorly that I wouldn’t be taking the flight. With wild gestures at the tarmac, a prim stewardess said my luggage was already aboard and couldn’t be retrieved at this time.
Whatever. I laughed at her and said, “It’s okay! I don’t need it!” All of that could be replaced. Bas could not.
Without a backward glance, I raced past security to the parking lot, where I flagged down a taxi and waved a Visa card at the driver. He nodded, and I jumped in the back.
I grabbed my phone, pulled up a map, and located the hotel. “I need to go here.”
He took off, and I prayed I’d find Bas there. He could have gone to his uncle’s. He might have gone for lunch in the city.
The cab dropped me off, and I took in my future landscape. The hotel was stunningly beautiful, overlooking the most sparkling blue water in the world. How had I failed to marvel at that view? I had no time to appreciate it. I wanted to run, but there were guests out front, so I walked like an old lady exercising at a mall, hips rotating frantically. I ran up the stairs, straight to his room, and pounded on the door.
It opened.
He was there.
His shirt was unbuttoned like he’d been about to get in the shower, and I wanted to lay my hands on his chest and drag the sleeves down his arms. But that would have to wait a moment.
His eyes widened. “What? Did you forget something?”
“Yes.” I stood there, feeling awkward and nervous and vulnerable, but I forced myself to be brave. “I forgot how you coaxed me to open up, then listened while I shared probably way too much information.”
His expression scrunched in confusion. “Um.”
“I forgot how safe I feel when you hold me. How you spoil me with delicious food. How you invited me into your family. How you care for me like someone worthy of your love.” I started to cry, and my words came out through tears. “Bas, I forgot how much I love you.”
His face twisted. “God. Please tell me you’ve remembered.”
I breathed out a laugh. “I was such a fool to risk losing this.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re staying?” He frowned. “Or are you still trying to convince me to go back to Charlottesville? Because you know, I was thinking that we can video chat every day, and—”
I pressed my finger to his lip. “I’m trying to tell you I’m staying.”
His eyes narrowed, like he still didn’t quite believe me. “For how long? A week? A month?”
“For as long as you’ll have me. Let’s have an adventure.”
“You’re staying…” He rubbed his jaw where stubble had begun to shade his features, still eyeing me warily. “You’re not just second-guessing because you’re afraid to lose me? Or…” He sighed. “I don’t want you to choose to be with me out of fear.”
“I’m not here because I’m afraid. I’m staying because I believe in the future. Our future. I believe in us.”
His lips threatened to burst out in that gorgeous smile. “Oh, thank God.” He pulled me to him, and his kiss held everything about Bas that I loved.
And I was home.
I breathed in the deliciousness of Basil—coffee, sage, rosemary. And time. We had so much time.
With great reluctance, I pushed him away and scolded him. “You know your uncle won’t let me stay here with you.”
His eyebrow shot up conspiratorially. “What should we do about that?”
“We could change my name to Chelsea Stavros.”
“Do you mean it?”
I waggled my eyebrows in response. I was starting to understand why people wanted to get married. I wanted to secure forever with this man.
“Tell me, Chelsea.”
“I do.” And I pushed him into the room. Our room.
“Feta late than never,” he said, and I burst out laughing, out of relief and love. It was so endearing picturing him waiting to break that joke out.
His lips fell back on mine, and every other thought fell away as I maneuvered him toward the bed, breaking the kiss only to shed my clothes. His hands worshipped me like I was a goddess—Athena or Aphrodite. And here he was, my Adonis. I dipped my fingers into his waistline and slid the fabric down to release the mythological beast.
“It’s a good thing you can’t read my mind.” I laughed.
His mouth broke contact with my throat long enough for him to say, “That bad?”
“So bad.”
“You’re making me nervous.” His hands slid around my back. “Tell me.”
“I was thinking how much I wanted you to enter my temple.”
His chest rumbled with amusement, but as he knocked me onto my back, he confessed, “I’d devote my life to that religion.”
My body was always ready for him, and as he moved in me, consumed me, brought me to the edge of ecstasy, and made me commune with the gods, he proved again how perfectly we fit together. How right he’d been about us all along.
As we lay together afterward, he whispered, “I can’t wait to show you our whole new world.”
I laughed. “Don’t you dare start singing.”
“Whatever you want, λατρε?α μου.” He wrapped his arms around me tight. “What do you want to do first?”
I rolled into him, my head on his strong shoulder, and gazed into his gorgeous eyes. He wore that mischievous grin, and he looked at me like I was already his whole world. And my God, he was mine. And I knew exactly what I wanted to do first.
“Let’s start a list.”