Page 96 of One Year Ago in Spain
Matías cocked his head, confused.
“On the plane, you asked if it would be strange to say that you felt like we knew each other in a different life. Well, the thing is…we sort of did.”
“What?”
“Maybe you’d better sit down for this.” Claire pointed to a bench a short way off, in front of the empty airport parking lot.
So they walked over, and Claire told him, as gently as she could, about the accident. About how they had been together for the eleven months and one week before that. And about his injuries and how they were running out of time now. That Abuela Gloria had convinced Claire to tell him because he needed to return to his body.
When she finished, Matías sat with his head in both hands. He didn’t say anything for a long while.
Finally, he exhaled. “That’s…hard to believe.”
Tears started to well in Claire’s eyes. If she couldn’t convince Matías to return to his body, he would die. Eithernow,because his soul would sever his connection to his body and no longer be tethered to this world, orsoon,because Matías’s body was nearing the end of its ability to hold on to life.
“But…” Matías said, and Claire’s breath caught in her throat.
“Even if it’s hard to believe,” he said, “Ifeelit. When I kissed you in my studio, I already knew your mouth. I knew the shape of your body against mine. I somehow remembered—without ever having experienced it yet—the little sound you would make if I brushed my lips against your throat.”
Claire involuntarily made that sound now.
“That,” Matías whispered. “Yes, that.”
They were quiet for a few minutes.
Finally, he asked, “So I’m really not supposed to be here with you?”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “No. Not like this.”
Matías jammed his hands into his hair. But then he shook them out and instead, turned and cupped her face gently.
“I’m scared, Claire. What if try to go back, and it doesn’t work? Or what if it does, but my body is too damaged to recover?”
“No,” she said. “That can’t happen. It won’t.”
“But it might.” He swiped away a tear falling on her cheek. “So before I go, I want only one thing.”
“What?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“To make love to you, Claire. Just in case it’s the last time.”
—
Claire found anAirbnb close by, and because 10p.m.was not considered late in Spain, the landlord—who was just sitting down to dinner—approved the rental right away.
She and Matías took a taxi the short distance, and Claire didn’t care if the driver thought she was drunk or delirious because it seemed like she was talking to herself in the backseat. He dropped them off at a beautiful stucco home surrounded by trees, with a fountain out front and stone paths leading to the front door and a wrought iron gate on the side.
“This way,” Claire said to Matías, indicating the second path. “We have the studio bungalow in the back; there’s a remote-entry keypad at the door.”
She took his hand and led him past the house, past the patio and the garden lit with fairy lights, her heart pounding against her ribs.
He didn’t let go of her as she entered the code on the keypad. She heaved open the thick wooden door, and they stepped inside.
“This is beautiful,” she said. The room was cozy, with walls painted vivid cerulean and yellow. There were two leather armchairs and throw blankets in Spanish prints, and a small kitchenette stocked with cookies, a bowl of berries, and coffee, tea, and honey. A speaker played gossamer piano music, and in the corner stood a wood-framed bed topped with a cloudlike feather duvet.
“Look at this,” Matías said, their linked hands bringing her with him as he wandered over to a stack of blank canvases and paintbrushes on a side table. “There’s a note from the owner—‘Welcome to La Casita de la Inspiración. Please feel free to use these art supplies during your stay if you feel inspired.’ Did you know this would be here?”
Claire shook her head. There hadn’t been many rentalsavailable in this area on such short notice. She’d chosen this one just because it was a standalone, private place rather than a room inside someone’s home. “Kismet, I guess.”
