Just The Way I Am - Jo Watson Page 0,135

so peaceful with his head squished against the pillow in a way that made his cheeks puff and his lips press together like a cherub. I climbed out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him. I was still naked, and I picked up the nearest thing I could find, Noah’s T-shirt, and popped it on. I walked out of the bedroom into the huge, luxurious lounge that sprawled out in front of me. I walked to the massive glass window that looked out over the deck. The monkeys were gone, but they had left their mark across the entire deck and pool. It was late, everything was dark, except for the smudges of light lined up on the ocean horizon. I wondered about the people on those ships. Were they on holiday? Going somewhere? And if so, where? Sleeping? Or was there someone standing at the window like me, wondering about the lights?

I looked back over at Noah to make sure he was still sleeping, and then gently pushed the doors open. The salty sea breeze hit me immediately and I shivered. It was cold, but the air felt so fresh out here, and alive. I walked over to the couch and grabbed the throw that was draped over it, wrapping it around my body, and that’s when I saw the hotel stationery on the table. I glanced at Noah again. I wondered whether this was where our adventure ended. What would happen when Noah and I returned home? Him to his studies, and me to my—God knows what I would do now. But if it did end here, in this room, by this ocean, if this was where our story ended, I wanted him to know how much it had all meant to me. How special he was, and how much he’d changed me . . .

I picked the stationery up and went out onto the deck. I sat at the table and smoothed the paper out, ran my fingertips over it as I always do, as if I’m trying to pull the image out of it. The one that’s already inside the paper, just waiting to come out. I folded the paper in half and was just about to start when I caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. The monkey who’d tried to carry the champagne bottle into the bush was lying on the grass, passed out over the bottle. Each time the wind blew, the bottle moved and the monkey startled, only to pass out again seconds later! I shook my head at him disapprovingly and turned my attention back to the paper. I lowered the pen and started.

The playful-looking font came to me immediately; writing the big thank-you across the front of the card also did. And then, with the greatest care and patience, I set about decorating the letters with elements from the last two weeks together. A little ambulance raced over the top of the “T,” chilis grew out from behind the “H,” I gave the “A” a tie-dye effect, I drew waterslides curling around all the letters, even a joint popped out from behind one, flames from the fire on the beach, champagne and the waves and monkeys hanging by their tails off the top of the “Y” and, finally, when I came to the last letter, I decorated it with a spray of cosmos.

The cosmos was where it had all gone wrong for me. The cosmos was where I’d stopped living the first time, but the second time in the cosmos with Noah, that is where I’d come to life again. Just like the flowers themselves in autumn. Once the design was complete, I opened the card and the words just flew out of me.

And when it was done, I signed my name at the end. I’d been signing my name on the bottom of my cards like this right from the first card I’d ever made all those years ago. The letter “Z” that looked like a little lightning bolt. And when it was all done, over two hours later, I quietly walked back into the room and placed the card on Noah’s bedside table, before climbing back into bed and wrapping my arms around him.

CHAPTER 71

I woke up the next morning and the first thing I did was reach out and feel for Noah. But he wasn’t there. The bed was empty, the duvet thrown open. The pillow had fallen to the floor. I looked

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