Finding myself (18+)

Chapter 28

The sunny weather is foreign, I'm so used to the grey Parisian sky by now. But I won't deny it, I'm happy it's warmer here. Calmer.

Not bad after the last storm.

"Now I get why you didn't want to date anyone," Prika tells me, sipping her drink and leaning on her chair with her eyes closed.

We're sitting on a terrasse in Barcelona after an impulsive decision of mine. A sudden need to leave Paris. And it was convenient it happened exactly on our week off.

My intention was to travel alone, but Prika jumped in.

I stare blankly at her until she opens her eyes. We're both tired after visiting the Basilica de la Sagrada Familia.

"Your male friend," it's how she calls Andrew since I present him to everyone as my friend. Of course, the way she pronounces 'friend', raising her brows, couldn't be more sarcastic.

"Why haven't you told me you're in love?"

I shrug, I haven't told her yet about the drama. What happened once I found him in the hotel. I needed time to process it and that's why I traveled.

"I thought I could ignore it," I answer her honestly, chewing the fruit that was in my drink.

I ignore it for so long.

I assumed pretending I wasn't in love with him would be enough and easier to forget and start over my new life in Paris. As I planned.

It wasn't though.

"When are you going to see him again?"

"Probably never." I take a long sip of my drink, breathing calm in and breathing frustration out. I close my eyes, remembering his expression when I confessed it. Any other person would be at least flattered or happy with the fact someone loves him. But not Andrew, no, not him.

If someone had interrupted our conversation and taken one look at Andrew, he would believe I was attacking him instead of confessing my feelings for him. The person would defend him seeing his misery and accuse me of abuse or something. That's how bad it was.

I can't understand it. I can't forget it either. His face, the expression he has that night hunts me.

Deep down, I know he has feelings for me too. After everything, how couldn't he?

He came to see me after all, and it drove me to believe he feels the same. Because it's how he expresses it. With actions and not words. I know it by now.

But he doesn't. He feels less than I assumed. It wasn't enough to react and commit.

I just need to accept it and move on.

"Why?"

"I scared him. I told him I love him."

"He got scared with that?" She asks astonished.

Join the club friend.

"I'm sorry babe." She looks at me, placing her hand on mine and I look away.

"I'm not," I answer after a minute, facing her again. And she stares at me confused.

"I ran away from it last time," I explain and she keeps looking at me in the same way.

"I blamed myself for the way I left things. I thought it was my fault we weren't together. This time I know I did everything I could." I explain.

I blamed myself this whole time for not telling him about France. For leaving and not trying to contact him. I act as I planned, as I believed I should.