mean anything by this. This is just another overreaction by yours truly. Self-sabotage. My body tenses, and I curse each shallow breath for making my stomach stick out more than the last. Megan would call it shutting down, but I don’t care.
I lean against the window again and pretend to fall back asleep.
FIFTEEN
While I rest my head against the window, I plan my next move.
There are two ways he could have meant it. In one, cuddling, in general, is comfortable. He made the “most comfortable” remark flippantly, and it meant nothing. In the other, he meant I was the most comfortable, which means he meant I was overweight, which means he meant I was nothing more than a pillow to him.
I open my eyes.
Option two is ridiculous.
But why can’t I let go of the fear that it’s true? Or that he misspoke. Freudian slip. Which is also probably not what happened. So I take a deep breath and shake off my angst. But it won’t let go. I feel like a wounded bird trying to conceal myself from prey, but the predator isn’t in the car. It’s in me.
When will I ever be free from my own brain?
Somewhere in the middle of my spiral, I realize the car’s slowing to a crawl. Sophie’s peering out the window, and I look around the car for any clue about what’s going on.
Ajay groans. “Why must you insist on taking this road? It’s so far out of the way.”
“Because it’s nice for the Stonehenge virgins,” Dani says, “and it only adds twenty minutes to the drive.”
Pierce palms my knee. I turn to him, slightly confused.
“If you have a camera, you might want to whip it out now.” Pierce points out my window. “Stonehenge is coming up, in all its underwhelming glory.”
“Like, right here?” I ask. “On the side of the road, a couple hours outside of London?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, marks of the oldest civilization ever, treated as normal as seeing, I don’t know, one of your red barns in America.”
“I appreciate the American analogy,” I deadpan.
The car inches over the hill, and rising up in the distance is Stonehenge. It’s literally a bunch of rocks sitting on the side of the road. I know how old they are—over five thousand years—and it’s massively impressive and confusing.
“Here it is,” Pierce says with a laugh. “A very old pile of rocks.”
But when he looks at me, a genuine smile is there. He even leans back to give me a better view. The car inches forward through near-standstill traffic as I survey the megalith, and again, it hits me just how far away I am from my hometown.
“Ah, fine. It’s not all rubbish,” he says, looking back to the site.
His resigned awe brings a smirk to my face. If nothing else, it’s taken me out of my earlier spiral enough for me to enjoy the moment. I shake off some of my worry and grip Pierce’s hand. We stare at the pile of rocks like it is the most wondrous thing in the world.
We get to the cottage just after nine, but the skies have already faded into a stunning Welsh night. I pause a moment to take it in—the smell of grass and trees is the same in Kentucky. The forest spirals around us, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say I was home. It brings me back—the cool night air under a starry sky. Sure, the constellations are different here (I looked it up), but the feeling’s still the same. It’s been a week, but I’m starting to get restless. Eleven weeks left to find something. It’s not nearly enough time.
I’m invited in by the smell of tea. Pierce has already fired up the electric kettle and has made himself a cup. A platter of chocolate-covered biscuits sits on an ornate, antique dining table.
“Dani and Ajay claimed one of the rooms upstairs,” Sophie says. “Pierce took the other. We can share the pullout down here, or …”
She glances in the direction of Pierce.
“Anyone want a cuppa?” he asks. “Earl Grey, chamomile—Twinings brand. It’s the good stuff.”
Sophie looks at me. Pierce looks at me.
“No. Yes.” My gaze darts between the two. “I mean. No tea, thanks. Yes, Sophie, the pullout.”
I set down my bag and run up the stairs to the bathroom to re-collect. That, and to relieve myself after a four-hour drive. Before I step downstairs, I take a peek into the two rooms up here. Ajay sits on his bed,