Living on Borrowed Time, page 15
In fact, I was pretty convinced that he was.
But the timing was so, so wrong, and there was nothing I could do to change that.
Right now, I needed to get my head sorted out. I needed to work out where I was, who I was. I needed to ‘find myself’—whatever that meant. I didn’t know who I was if not the ‘dying girl’ and I needed to figure that out or I would be stuck in a rut forever. Being here, among all the mistakes I’d made, just wasn’t the place to do that.
I’d travelled before, but that was all about seeing all that I wanted to see before it was too late. This was going to be about taking time, really looking, really enjoying myself. If it took a month to do that, great! If it took three years and everyone else had forgotten about me, then I guess that would mean another clean slate to start again. I’d completely wrecked the first clean slate I had; maybe I would do better the second time around.
I sat in my seat, trying to keep my breathing steady. I didn’t want the poor sucker that had to sit next to me to think I was a nervous flyer. This wasn’t about that, this was excitement to escape. I’d surrounded myself in toxicity; I’d pushed away everyone that I cared about, fucked up all my positive, happy relationships. I’d been on a slippery slope ever since I found out that I was going to live, and since that was a fact that I couldn’t change, it was time to do something about it.
I allowed all the memories off the mistakes I made to flick through my mind. After all, part of the healing process was going to be about accepting what I did, and where I went wrong. Owning my mistakes. I couldn’t even begin to move on until I’d done that. If my therapy group had taught me one thing, it was that. But I wouldn’t get stuck on all of my issues, I’d just accept them as a part of my past—in the way that Devon did. I would do all of that, then I would move on.
The engine rumbled beneath me. We were moving, finally.
‘Thank you, Kimberly.’ I muttered under my breath. She was the only one who’d stuck by me through thick and thin, who’d pushed me to do better, to move on, to take a chance. If it hadn’t been for her, then I wouldn’t have made it this far. I’d still be in a dive bar somewhere, looking for the next loser to show me some attention. She always told me that I was better than that, and maybe it was time for me to start listening to her. There were a million times when she could have blown me off, since she owned me nothing, but she hadn’t, and I was sure even this break wouldn’t be enough to wreck our solid friendship.
The familiar nausea rushed through me as we rose, but it felt really positive. This time as I went up, it wasn’t because it was my last few months alive. It was because I had a life, one that I needed to take into my own hands.
I couldn’t wait to discover more of me. I really felt like I was using my mum and Carter’s money wisely with this trip—not that she had completely agreed with me. I felt like I would come out of it with a better idea of what to do next. I intended to return with a dream to work towards, but even if that didn’t happen I knew I’d be better off for it.
“Where are you going?” The friendly-looking elderly woman sat next to me asked.
“Italy, to start with.” I smiled back, eager to get there now, to see what Rome and Venice had to offer me. I’d been looking at pictures online, and it looked amazing. I couldn’t wait to see it all in real life. The coliseum, the canals…it all looked so beautiful and I couldn’t wait for it to inspire me.
“Ah.” She grinned. “A finding yourself trip!” She laughed at her little joke and I couldn’t help but join in.
“Something like that.” I replied, before turning back to stare out of the window.
Exactly like that.
EPILOGUE
I’d never felt so relaxed as I did stretched out across the beautiful French beach. It wasn’t just the hot sun or the gorgeous location, it was me. I was better now. I was whole once more, and that felt amazing.
As I travelled, I started to write—almost instinctually at first, simply for something to do when I was riding on public transport, getting from place-to-place. I wrote down absolutely everything from the diagnosis, to the almost-death, to completely fucking up my second chance at life. It was more therapeutic than anything else. Even more so than seeing the best parts of the world—although that backdrop certainly helped.
Now I knew who I was supposed to be.
It took nine months of seeing the sights to figure it all out, but I was getting there, and that was worth something.
I wanted to write, to publish books, to use my experience to help others. As my head had cleared, I started to realise that maybe I wasn’t quite so alone in my troubles, and that maybe I could make a difference to someone else, to stop them from going down the terrible path that I did. Maybe I would even do self-help courses or something. There was so much I could do—the world truly was my oyster—and now that I had a plan forming in my brain, I could really see the possibilities in the future that had seemed so endless and bleak before.
I’d kept in touch with people quite well, considering some of the remote locations that I’d been in. I emailed Kimberly regularly, I sent Facebook messages to Amy and Kai now and again, I’d even found time to ring my mum—who was finally beginning to understand me. On top of that, I’d been rebuilding bridges with some of my old friends. The ones from before. I’d even worked up the courage to email a real, heartfelt apology to Daphne. Just the once. She replied like a shot, giving me a much more positive and understanding reply than I’d been expecting, but I was just taking it all one day at a time. I wasn’t pushing myself into something I wasn’t ready for. If I was going to rebuild my relationship with her, it would be for good, and I needed to be prepared for what that meant, I would have to completely and utterly accept her and Bradley—especially now that they were husband and wife—no matter what, and I wanted to be in a place where I could truly do that first.
It had been a long road; and it certainly wasn’t going to be easy from here either, but I was certain that it would be worth it in the end. I didn’t think things will ever be as they were with Daphne—too much had happened for it to be exactly as it was—but I was willing to work to get something back.
I intended to visit her, to speak to her face-to-face when I went back, which was actually going to be very soon. After all, Nick and Kimberly were getting married in a month and a half! A whirlwind romance maybe, but they just knew that they were right for one another, and they were willing to risk everything for each other. Something I found incredibly admirable.
“Hi.” A familiar, sweet voice rang out, dragging my attention away from my notebook.
I pulled down my sunglasses, stunned.
It couldn’t be, could it?
“Charlie?” I gasped in total and utter shock. It couldn’t be Charlie, here in France. That made no sense whatsoever.
After we left things on such a sour note, I’d decided to leave him be, to allow him to move on—however much that prospect hurt me. He didn’t need a screw up like me, and he didn’t need reminding of what we went through, what I put him through. So as much as I’d wanted to, I didn’t contact him. Not even once.
I’d written and re-written emails but never sent them. And I’d thought about him a whole lot, but I tried to convince myself that he was a part of my past now, nothing more.
So how was he here?
And why did he look so sheepish?
“I’m sorry I’m here Lara, I just couldn’t…” I sat up, growing increasingly curious. “Kimberly told me where you were—I’ve been bugging her a lot for information actually.” He smiled shyly, causing my heart to melt like butter. That smile got to me every single time, and it seemed that time hadn’t dulled that one bit. “I know we left things shit and I know you came to sort yourself out, but…”
“But…?” I asked, my heart pounding loudly.
“Look, I like you so much. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, however much I’ve tried. I might even love you—crazy as that sounds. If I don’t love you already, then I’m definitely on my way.” I couldn’t breathe, this was all too much. “I understand why you did what you did, now that I’ve had time to calm down. I haven’t always behaved well myself, as you know, so I’m sorry that I reacted badly…”
“No…” I started, but he carried on.
“I don’t expect anything from you, I just couldn’t wait another day to tell you that when—and if—you’re ever ready, and you want to try things with me, I will wait.”
I gulped, suddenly really afraid. I hadn’t allowed myself to believe that this was even possible. I didn’t want to admit to myself how deeply I felt for Charlie. Not any more, I was trying to believe that I was over him.
Now he was here. Now it was possible, and my emotions were all over the place at that prospect.
“I…I’m sorry.” He took my silence for something else. “I’ll go.”
He turned to walk away from me, but I jumped up and grabbed his shoulders, spinning him back towards me. I pressed my lips up against his, feeling the sparks burst inside me once more. He’d always felt amazing, right for me. He was the one. I was sure of it—a thought that had terrified me in the past. Now though, I was ready to grab onto life with both hands.
I loved myself and I was ready to be loved.
I was no longer ‘the dying girl’, ‘the virgin’, ‘the slut’, ‘the crazy girl’. I was just Lara. Lara with a long, exciting future ahead of her. One that would be filled with positivity and love.
Lara—ready to take on the world!
About the Author
Samie Sands is the author of the AM13 Outbreak series. She has also had stories featured in some best selling anthologies.
For more information, please connect online:
Newsletter: eepurl.com/bRjtkf
Website: samiesands.com
Facebook: @SamieSandsLockdown
Twitter: @SamieSands
Goodreads: @SamieSands
Instagram: @SamieSands
Wattpad: @SamieSands
Other books by this author
The AM13 Outbreak Series:
Lockdown
Forgotten
Extinct
Not Dead Yet
Available on Wattpad:
Living on Borrowed Time
Lottie Loves
AM13 Shorts
Anthologies with shorts by Samie Sands:
13: An Anthology of Horror and Dark Fiction
13: Deja Vu
Undead Worlds
Unleash The Undead
Mutate
Electromagnetism
Haunted Tales: Stories from Beyond the Grave
Tales of Horror on Halloween Night
Swallowed by the Beast
A Picture is Worth 1000 Words
Monster Attack
Slice Girls
Thirteen: The Horror Continues…
Holiday Horror
Dark Holidays
Forgotten Places
Find out more at samiesands.com
Samie Sands, Living on Borrowed Time
