Jess is finally going! That New Zealand holiday is at its dawn, and all she can think of is landscapes, walks and adventures. But what she does not expect to find, is what is waiting around the corner - someone.
Someone who will turn her holiday up...
Have a listen to the song before, or after, you read the chapter. It should add some helpful context. You'll see what I mean when you start reading ;)
Enjoy!
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Hope when the water rises You built a wall Hope when the crowd screams out It's screaming your name
It is funny how at times, music can make you feel so alive and free - make you want to run through a golden field, or travel the world. Jess was blasting the song into her eardrums, neglecting entirely to think of what its volume might do to them.
Hope if everybody runs You choose to stay
Jess wished she had stayed. How could she not wish that? After everything that had happened, after everything she had seen and done and felt?
But the carpeted floor was vibrating beneath her feet, the ground miles and miles below them. Jess pressed her forehead to the window, and figured she could just see a little patch of twinkling lights below, winking at her from the inky blackness of night. Of course, the lack of light and the altitude made it impossible to tell, but Jess liked to believe the little city below meant they were not all alone out there.
Hope that you fall in love And it hurts so bad
Jess zoned out, and the humming of the massive machine speeding through the air, thinned to silence.
The only way you can know You give it all you had
Sometimes, music can transport you through time, space - through your mind - whether you want it to or not.
It was the midst of sunrise again, and Jess was walking. Walking away.
Only, this time, when she had allowed herself to glance back at James, it was met by a small smile of understanding; one that had told her this was going to be okay. Somehow it was easier, to turn her back on it all, than it had been the day before. Not because there was less to walk away from - if anything, there was more.
She would recall later, on the plane, the memory of lying awake in the lost hours of the early morning. The conviction of a day well lived, with nothing left undone, was sunk by the shadow of their parting. It was the heavy burden of regret - of wanting to have had more, to have done more, to have stood with her face cupped in his hand for a lifetime.
