“Unless I’m paying for it,” I say, shrugging. “Look, you’re all famous and shit, I get it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to take advantage of that, it just doesn’t feel right. It’s your success, not mine.”
He sighs, like I don’t get him at all, and mutters something under his breath that I don’t really catch.
“What?” I ask him.
“Nothing, Sabina,” he says, grinning. “Hike and picnic it is.”
I eye him suspiciously, but stay quiet. I’m happy that I get to wear my new sneakers. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a hike, and I’m really looking forward to it. Ben hated hiking, or anything outdoorsy really, while I love that shit. I love going on adventures. Trying new things. Exploring.
The truth is—I have a wild side in me.
And it’s been a while since I let her out.
*****
“This view is insane,” I call out to Dean, laughing once more when I see him carrying the picnic basket in his masculine hands. You can’t have a proper picnic without the basket and blanket, and when he offered to carry them I wasn’t about to say no, however, he does look kind of ridiculous. I was going to make sandwiches and do a nice little spread for our expedition, but Dean said there was a place where they made it all up for you, and all you had to do was pay for it. So I let him throw his money at the situation, and in return we got a beautifully crafted basket filled with gourmet goods for our lunch. I brought my own blanket, a tartan one I bought when I was on holiday in Scotland, and all in all I think we have a pretty sweet set-up. We walked up this trail, which took us an hour, and now we can sit down and enjoy the food. Dean lays out the blanket, while I drink some water then pull out my hand sanitiser and rub it into my hands, then offer it to him.
“You carry around hand sanitiser?”
I nod.
“What are you, a soccer mum?” he teases, but accepts the little bottle.
“No, although I think I’d make a good one. I’m just a girl who likes her hands to be germ free.”
He chuckles and hands me back the bottle, then rubs his hands together. We both sit down and open the basket, pulling out its delicious contents. Impressed, I eye the cheese, crackers, cold cuts, olives, fruit, and sandwiches and give them my approval.
“Looks so good,” I say, opening the container with the strawberries. “This is the best idea you’ve ever had. Fuck my sandwiches, this looks amazing!”
He chuckles and says, “I’m sure yours would have been great too, but I didn’t want you to have to make them. I wanted you to just enjoy. You’ve been through hell and back, I think you more than anyone deserve to be spoiled a little. I’m only here for a little while, so it’s the least I can do with the limits you’ve allowed me.”
Our eyes connect and hold, hazel clashing with green.
“You’re a good man, Dean Amore. Next time I won’t believe anything the magazines say about you.”
He laughs and pops an olive in his mouth.
Then we demolish the entire spread.
Chapter Six
I’m feeling down again by dinner time. When I have nothing distracting me, the pain returns. My mind remembers what happened, what I’ve lost, and I start to fall back into that hole. It’s hard. I can’t be doing something every minute of every day, although I can try. And I know when Dean leaves and I’m alone in the house again it’s going to get worse. Maybe I should ask Tara to move in with me for a few weeks.
“I’m going to help you pack up all of his belongings,” Dean says, making me jump. I didn’t even know he’d entered the room. He looks around what was my and Ben’s bedroom, but is now just mine. His clothes are still in the wardrobe, his shoes in the exact place he left them in the corner of the room. His toothbrush is still in its holder in the bathroom, his bathrobe hanging on the back of the door.
How am I meant to get rid of all his things, like he never existed?
“I don’t want to,” I say in a small voice. That makes it real, and I don’t want this to be real. No, I want this to be a dream, and when I wake up, it’s going to be in his arms.
Dean sits down on my mattress, the spring creaking under his weight. He glances around my room, then says, “I know you don’t want to, Sabina, but you need to. It doesn’t mean you forget him, you don’t, but you can’t pretend that nothing has changed either. It has.”
I know this, I do.
Still, I don’t fucking want to deal with it.
“Do you want me to do it all?” he offers, studying me with a blank expression on his face. “You don’t even have to be here. You can go for a walk, or go to see a movie or something.”