Forever is very long…

Tara closes her eyes, takes a second for herself and remembers. Remember the sweet moments, the bad moments and everything in between.

Her love for him surprised her more than she thought possible. She was sure it was just a flirtation, just some fun until she had to go back home after her holiday.

But then she realised, with quite a big shock to her system, how much it all meant to her.

“Morning, love…”

She opens her eyes, looks into the icy blue depths of Alex’s eyes.

Alex…

Such a sweet boy, a British boy, all she thought she wanted…

Poor boy, not aware that the object of all his affections is lost in love with a man in another city, another country, another continent.

“Morning, you’re up early.”

“The sky was awake, so I was as well,” he jokes and gets into bed next to her, pulling her mostly naked body tight against his.

A gesture that makes her sad, makes her remember, makes her want to forget, about the few nights she had with HIM…

Why couldn’t Andrei have listened to her and stayed away? Why did he have to be so amazingly perfect, and get under her skin, and upset her whole planned out world.

She feels Alex’s hands roam her body, looking for a sign, an invitation. But she deepens her breaths and relax her body, pretending to be asleep is way easier the pretending her way through another orgasm…

~~~

With lunch behind them, and a few hours on the beach, working off pent-up energy, they sit on the veranda of her cabana, she wishing to be alone, he wishing to get closer.

Tara takes out her phone and without thinking about it, automatically refreshes the emails. With a ping from her phone, her faces lights up for a few seconds, before she sees it is only spam and not Andrei.

She knows she asked him not to contact her, to have a clean break, but did he have to choose this moment to listen to her? Every minute, hour with an empty inbox is torture… Is he not missing her?? Missing them?? Wishing for her to be back in Italy with him? Or was all that happened not as perfect and beautiful as her mind led her to believe?

Then, a hotel attendant comes walking along the beach, towards her, and Tara gets her hopes up, maybe he called Front Desk, maybe he sent her a letter? The attendant hands her a big, wrapped box, addressed to Miss Tara, Cabana 3o3, Berry Island Hotel. Her go-to get away when the world and all its emotions overwhelm her.

“What is it?” Alex asks, and Tara looks up, surprised and slightly annoyed to find him across from her. Didn’t he leave yet…?

“I dunno, how bout you go get us some cocktails and I find out.”

“Sure,” as he gets up, he aims a kiss at her mouth, but ends up with a mouth full of hair, as she turns her head away, not even aware that he tried to kiss her.

With Alex gone, she starts struggling with the wrapping on the box. She opens it and smile, sad, happy, overwhelmed.

The box is filled with letters, and various small bottles of her favourite alcohol and, as she dig through the packing peanuts, a book right at the bottom. His favourite John Green, filled with notes and highlighted quotes.  Taped to the top of the box is a letter with the number 1 on top of it.

She opens it, and read slowly, as if to savor every letter, every word.

Missy
How can I miss someone I’m not in love with, this much? 
It wasn’t suppose to be this way. 
It was suppose to be easy
A Holiday fling
But now you are gone
And I’m still here
And I miss you more than possible
This box is filed with letters, on letter for every day without you and a few extra for days still to come.
I’m not allowed to say this
I know
But I have to say it, or I’ll implode
 
I love you
ur eyes
ur body
ur hair
the way u don’t give a shit
that drunken giggle
the way u respond
all of u
 
Forever,
Andrei
 

With a shaky hand, Tara wipe the tears from her face as Alex comes back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, cocktails in hand.

“You need to leave… I’m sorry… I’m done playing. I lost my heart five months ago and I need to save it. Even if I can’t get to him, and love him. I can’t be with anyone else at the moment.”

“It’s that Italian, isn’t it?” he asks, his face not as angry as she expected it to be.

“Yes…” she answers, all her pain,  her hopes, her love caught up in one, small word.

“He’s at the beach bar. Waiting for you…”

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