Page 87 of The Book Swap

Erin Connolly: I’ve loved you since you first reached your hand out to me in the dining hall. Since the house party. Since I left that bracelet in your bag on Valentine’s Day. Since I saw you in the bookshop on the day of Bonnie’s memorial last year.

Since the glass in your foot. Since I picked up To Kill a Mockingbird, not knowing, but knowing now, it was you. Since the bus. Since I told you outside of this very library how I felt about you. Since the hospital. Since you stood on that stage and read The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Since forever. Since always. I’m sorry it wasn’t a happier ending for us. I wish it could have been.

My head starts swimming. I don’t understand. I thought this book was his way of saying goodbye. He told Joel we should be left in the past, but now he’s saying that isn’t what he wanted. Not only that, but he’s finally solved the ongoing mystery of the bracelet. It was him. It’s always been him.

As I stare back at the library, my stomach starts to harden. I’m wondering if I’ve got this all wrong somehow. Again. And now I’m about to give up my life here and move back to Frome. I leave tomorrow.

Closing the doors to the library, I look around me before walking away, breaking into a run the closer I get to home.

What we had was something real. Maybe it could be again. Why else would he leave me this book? Despite all of my behavior, here he is, trying again. I don’t deserve him, and I know that—but God, I want him. I want a man in my life who has his strength. His compassion. His open heart and honesty. I thought it was too late, but I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t.

I put on the kettle and send a photo of the book to Cassie. She’s at Joel’s and I’ve got the flat to myself, to find out what James is thinking. To see what the future might hold. Cassie replies.

Cassie: OMG!!! The love story is BACK ON. I’m grilling Joel for the ACTUAL truth as we speak. He now “isn’t sure” if James wanted to leave it in the past or not. Apparently your name’s been banned since the memorial. MEN!!! They drive me up the wall.

So he couldn’t hear about me either.

I make a cup of tea, then curl up on the sofa under a blanket and start reading. I’m hooked by the first sentence, and I can’t stop.

Everything about our story is in these pages, littered with apologies and explanations. I’ve fallen in love with the characters, and I know it’s because I’ve fallen in love with James too. That I never stopped, not really. I didn’t know how to love again, but the events of the past year—and Wren’s arrival—have changed all that. It’s made me realize that I’m ready. That I’ve got enough love within me not to let go of Bonnie in my attempt to love someone new. It can exist together. All of it.

I read all night, wiping away tears so many times but especially at the end. The book doesn’t finish the way I want it to. I wanted Carmen to forgive the man who loved her. I wanted them to try again and I don’t know how much to read into the fact that she doesn’t. Why did James write that ending? Is it for everyone, or just for me? To make me realize how stupid I’ve been? How much I’ve lost? Of course we’re meant to be together. We always were.

I’ve just got time to return the book before I leave for Georgia’s. I’ve filled it with notes. Underlined every sentence that meant something to me. I’ve underlined most of the book.

Turning to the blank page at the back, I reach for a pen and write one question. The bravest question I’ve ever written.

Meet me in happy ever after?

I put the book in my bag and stand up, knowing there’s one more thing I need to do. The thing I’ve been avoiding. The only thing that makes moving hard.

I push open the door to my bedroom, one half of me in the present, and the other in the past, on the day I entered Bonnie’s hospice for the final time.

That day I wasn’t ready. Her parents had called me in the morning, saying I needed to get there as soon as I could. That she’d taken a turn for the worse overnight. That it was time. It wasn’t making any sense. We’d been laughing the day before. Playing Uno. I’d painted Bonnie’s nails her favorite turquoise. I’d spoken to her about what she could wear for our next pub outing. She hadn’t corrected me. Hadn’t implied for a second that it might not have been possible.

“No,” I forced out, entering her room when it was my turn to be with her.

I clenched my fists when I saw her. She was in bed, eyes closed, taking one labored breath after another.

“No, no, no, no, no...”

I ran to her side, picking her hand up as gently as I could. Her skin was as thin as tracing paper. Her nails still a bright turquoise. It had only been one day.

“Bonnie, it’s me. It’s Erin.” I waited for her to open her eyes and grin at me. To give one of her deep, husky laughs. Instead, an eyebrow twitched, her forehead furrowing for a second.

I bit down hard on my lip. We had more time. This wasn’t my moment to say goodbye.

“Water?” I asked, reaching for the bottle, but she turned her head slightly away.

She wasn’t even drinking anymore.

“I’m not doing it,” I said, shaking my head hard, lip wobbling. “I won’t say goodbye. I refuse. It’s just a bad day. You just need some rest, before you get back out.”

I waited for her to open her eyes. She squeezed my hand lightly.

“Bonnie, please. Please don’t go.” I wanted to shake her. If her mum and dad hadn’t walked back in I might have. My head dropped to the bed as I wrapped my arms across her body, sobbing into the sheet that covered her. “You can’t go,” I begged.

Today, she’s in the chair in my bedroom and the Bonnie I was searching for in her face that day is back. She’s colorful. She’s alive. I don’t often see her this way. The way I knew her, before the cancer.

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