Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
God, we laughed about it for hours. And when we finally got a grip on ourselves, all it would take was one simple look and we’d lose it all over again.
Tears had burned the corners of my eyes as I sat in her room, staring at those boxes. Her death didn’t feel real then, and in some ways it still hasn’t seeped into my psyche that Winnie is gone. I occasionally have moments of forgetfulness. When a Bob Marley song comes on the radio or when I see a Nordstrom sale, Winnie is the first person I think of, and I’ll reach for my phone as if to text her before it hits me a moment too late that I can’t.
The salt water in the Mediterranean washes away every tear until I feel drained from them. I still don’t want to go back to shore and join the others, though, so I swim out until I reach a sandbar. The people on the beach are nothing but tiny specks.
“Blimey, must you swim so fast? I’ve been trying to catch you for ages!”
I startle and turn to see Simone swimming after me and looking like she’s about to give up and sink under the waves at any moment. I reach out and take her hand, pulling her to stand beside me. I wouldn’t have gone out this far if I’d known she was coming after me.
“Are you a strong swimmer?” I ask.
“Sure, yes.” Then she laughs, bending at her waist to rest her hands on her knees. “Just…” She inhales deeply like she’s completely out of air. “Give me a moment. Think my left lung has burst.”
I laugh and she looks up at me, her amusement fading quickly.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. I swipe at my cheeks. “Nothing. Salt water got in my eyes.”
“Don’t give me that crap. I can see straight through it, you know. Are you thinking about your sister?”
Simone knows about Winnie. The first night we moved in together, as we walked home, we got to talking. She brought up the resume I’d shown Hugo and admitted she’d sneaked a peek. “Now, listen, I don’t want you to think I was prying or anything, but it had quite a lot of bulk to it. Mine’s only about a quarter of the page, and that’s only ’cause I padded it with made-up jobs. Don’t tell.”
I’d laughed. “It’s not that impressive. Just college and stuff. And my work experience doesn’t matter. My job back home is nothing like this, so it’s not like it’s all that useful.”
“But see, that’s what I’m confused about.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “If you’ve gone to university and have this posh job back home, why are you working this summer instead of just enjoying your holiday? Do you need the money?”
“Not really.” I didn’t want to lie to her if I didn’t have to.
“So why aren’t you just taking a load off and toasting yourself under the sun?”
“I plan to do that,” I said with a grin. “But I also want to work. It’s part of this summer bucket list thing I’m trying.”
Simone acted personally offended. “Oh no. Some of that Eat, Pray, Love crap? If you’re going to try to convert me to Buddhism, I’ll lose it.”
I smiled. “It’s not like that.”
“Well, now you have me curious… What’s on it?”
That night, instead of an apartment tour, Simone and I sat side by side on my new bed and I told her about the bucket list and about my sister. I tried to keep it light with the story of the turquoise bikini incident, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her, but it’s been the exact opposite. Simone refuses to let me grieve alone. She knows I’m here on Ibiza because of Winnie, knows my duffel bag is stuffed with all the clothes Winnie purchased in the hospital. And more than that, she’s determined to help me accomplish everything on the bucket list.
“Operation Make Winnie Proud has officially commenced!”
To her credit, it has. We’re swimming at Bora Bora Beach right now. When I get home, I can scratch that off the list in Winnie’s honor.
“Do you miss her?” she asks gently now.
I can do nothing but stare out at the calm sea and nod, knowing my voice will break if I try to speak.
“Do you think it might help if I gave you one of my little brothers? They’re gross and covered in poo all the time, but they are quite cute.” I chuckle as Simone pulls me into her arms. “I’m sorry, Elle. I truly am. How can I actually make you happy? Should we discuss Cristiano? Hmm?”
She steps back and holds me at arm’s length, trying to get a good look at the expression I’m hiding from her.