Page 49 of Eternally London

A half hour later, we’re checked in to the hotel and riding in a Jeep-like safari vehicle into the Ngorongoro crater. According to our guide, the crater was formed when a large volcano exploded and collapsed in on itself over two million years ago. The crater is two thousand feet deep and one hundred square miles in area.

It has been made into a conservation area, so no hunting is allowed inside the crater. Everything is so green and lush. It’s absolutely breathtaking.

The vehicle slows down, and I pull my attention from the side to peer ahead. I gasp when I see a large male lion rolling in the dirt of the road. His legs are in the air as he scratches his back against the gravel.

“Ollie, look. There’s a flipping lion in front of us!” I pull out my phone and start taking video of the lion. “Why aren’t you freaking out? You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

“Yep.” He laughs. “But seeing it through your eyes is so much better than mine.”

“I have to bring Loïc back here. He has to see this in person.”

We drive slowly around the cat. He stops rolling and looks at me. I’ve never seen a lion this close. It’s thrilling and a little scary.

“Is it safe, not having windows on this thing?” I tap the area by my door where an open space exists in place of a glass pane.

The guide assures me that these animals see humans every day and are used to us driving through. But, still…I swear, that lion looked hungry.

We travel through the crater and see zebras, wildebeests, a couple of black rhinoceroses, gazelles, antelope, and more lions. It’s probably one of the coolest experiences of my life.

These past two weeks, my heart has been suffocating from the sorrow of the world, weighed down by its immense pressure. The horrors I’ve been told over the past couple of weeks have hurt me deeply. But this incredible beauty lifts some of the sadness, so I can breathe deep again. It’s a rejuvenation for my soul that I so desperately needed.

There is a lot of ugliness in the world, but I have to remember to not let it blind me from the beautiful.

London

“I loved you immediately. I loved you for who you are—no expectations, no pretenses, just absolute love.”

—London Berkeley

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” I ask her, a smile warming my face. “I always thought I did. I thought I felt it with your daddy. But, now, I know that it was attraction, desire, maybe even lust at first sight.” I shake my head. “You don’t need to know what all that means just yet—not until you’re of college age at least. Don’t get me wrong; love followed very shortly after, probably sooner than it does for most. But can I say that I loved him the first time I laid eyes on him? I don’t think so.

“But that doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in love at first sight—because I do. I’ve felt it. Truly one hundred percent felt it. With you. The very moment I saw you with your round cheeks and thoughtful expression, you permeated every open crevice in my heart to the point of bursting. I loved you immediately. I loved you for who you are—no expectations, no pretenses, just absolute love.

“I’ve dreamed about you every night since the first time I saw you, and each night, I’ve grown to love you even more—beyond the realm of what I thought was possible. I love you now. I love you tomorrow. I love you always.”

I lean in and kiss her forehead, surprised to feel sticky wetness against my lips. I pull back, wiping my lips against the back of my hand. I panic when a trail of redness is left upon my skin. I look at her, and my heart shatters. Blood is leaking from every pore of her skin. Her tears are crimson.

I scream—wild, abandoned, desperate.

Please don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me!

Her body goes limp. I yank her to my chest, tightly clutching her against me. Rocking her, I cry.

I bolt up, my body drenched with sweat. It takes me a moment to get my bearings and register the incessant pounding against the hotel door.

I wrap the bedsheet around me and make my way toward the door. Opening it, I find Oliver with his fist in the air, held up, ready to bang it against the door again. He quickly drops his arm and looks me up and down, panic in his eyes.

“Hell! Are you all right?” His eyes squint in assessment.

I don’t answer him right away, still groggy from sleep.

“You were screaming, love. I could hear you in my room next door.”

“I…” I look back toward my empty bed, as if it holds the answers, and then I face Oliver again. “I was having a bad dream.”

He looks like he wants to inquire about the dream, but he doesn’t. “Okay. Still want to grab some breakfast before we go to the airport?”

“Yes, let me just grab a quick shower, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

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