Page 4 of My Spanish Love Affair

But there’s nothing necessarily keeping me livinghere.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach for my phone from the bedside table and open the browser. My fingers hover over the screen for a moment, then I type.

Flights to Spain.

The results flood the screen—Barcelona, Madrid, Valencia. Not really knowing where to begin, I scroll through the impossibly cheap one-way tickets.

Madrid catches my eye first. I’ve never been, although I vaguely remember a friend from university raving about how amazing the city is.

I start to do the mental math, then stop myself. I don’t need to. The savings from my dad’s estate are still sitting untouched in my account, waiting for me to figure out what to do with them.

He’d always said it was meant to give me options. I’m not quite sure that this exact scenario was what he had in mind, but…

“What are you doing, Olivia?” I whisper to myself, staring at the screen.

My thumb hovers over thebook nowbutton.

I think of Liam, and it’s all I can picture in my mind - the way his face twisted in guilt when I walked in on him.

I think of work, of gray walls, a freezing shared office space, of shitty coffee and the way every day feels like I’m just going through the motions.

And then I think of Laura’s laughter, of her grinning at me.

“It doesn’t have to be a movie. It could be your life.”

My chest tightens with fear and exhilaration.

What if she’s right? What if thiscouldbe my life?

Without letting myself hesitate any longer, I input my bank card details and tap “book now.”

A confirmation screen appears.

I stare at it for a long moment, half expecting the world to tilt or time to stop. But everything stays the same, except now there’s a strange, unfamiliar lightness in my chest.

I’m really doing this.

I put my phone down and lie back against the pillows, my mind racing.

Spain.

A new country, a new start.

It feels reckless and terrifying - but it also feels good. And for the first time in weeks, I drift off to sleep with a faint smile on my lips.

Chapter Two

Isit on the edge of my bed, staring at the rucksack by my feet. It’s smaller than I expected given that I’ve packed all of my essentials for life into it.

The thought feels strangely liberating.

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” my mother asks as she appears in the doorway.

Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, and her brows are pulled into a worried frown. She’s been hovering like this all week, ever since I moved my belongings back into my childhood home for safe keeping while I’m away.

“I think so,” I say, glancing at the pile of essentials.

Passport, ticket, phone charger, plug adaptor. The necessities for starting a new life, apparently.

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