“He’s brave,” Sebastian noted quietly. “I don’t know if I could wake up every morning and face the reality he faces. All the chemo, the surgeries…”
“Jamie believes that everything happens for a reason,” I told him.
“And you don’t?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, shrugging. “What do you think?”
“You can’t laugh,” he ordered, looking at me sternly. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Well,” he began, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in what I’d come to recognize as one of his few nervous tells. “It might sound cheesy, but I think some people are destined.” He lookedanxious as the words left his mouth, as though I might laugh at him after all. In truth, laughter was the farthest thing from my mind.
“Destined?” I whispered.
“Destined to cross paths. Fated to enter each other’s lives, and change them in some fundamental way. Call them soulmates or star-crossed or whatever you want — the point is, I think some people are just…” he trailed off, taking a breath as our eyes locked. “…meant to be.”
“Meant to be,” I echoed, my breaths shallow as I stared at him. “So you think there’s only one ‘right’ person for everyone?”
“Essentially,” Bash said, nodding.
“But what if you never find that person? Or what if you meet them, and it doesn’t work out? Or what if they’re married to someone else with seven kids? Are you supposed to just… live the rest of your life without the other half of your heart?”
“Truthfully?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I don’t think many people even find their soulmates. Most of them meet a nice boy or girl who fits a specific set of criteria — good job, good looks, good family — and they decide, ‘Hey, this must be it. This must be true love.’” Sebastian looked at me, his eyes intense. “So they give up their search for the elusive ‘one’ and they settle for what they consider to be the next best thing. And maybe they even convince themselves that they’re happy for a time — that they’re living in perfect sync with the person who was designed for them — but that feeling rarely seems to last.”
“So, you’re saying that if you were separated from your soulmate — from the person you supposedlyknewwas the one for you — you’d never move on? Never get married, or have kids with someone else? You’d choose to be miserable and alone forever?” I asked, incredulity lacing my tone.
“I’m saying that soulmates are a reward, not a certainty. I think you have to earn them. And I believe, if you’re one of the bastards lucky enough to stumble across yours, that you have to fight for them with everything you have,” Bash told me. “There’s this phrase that kind of sums up how I feel about life in general, but also how I feel about love —aut viam inveniam aut faciam. ”
“I shall either find a way, or make one,” I translated, mythree years of high school Latin finally paying off in a real life scenario. “Ha! Take that, everyone who ever told me to take Spanish because it was more practical.”
Bash smiled at me indulgently. “Legend goes that when Hannibal the Conqueror’s generals told him it would be impossible to cross over the Alps during the Second Punic War, that was his reply.”
“And did he do it?”
“He did.” Sebastian nodded, his expression earnest. “Despite insurmountable odds, despite huge losses, he found a way. That’s how I want to live. It’s how I want to love.”
“Epically?” I asked, equal parts teasing and serious. “Or tragically?”
“Maybe both,” he said, laughing lightly. “Aren’t the truly epic love stories also the most tragic?”
“That’s kind of…devastatingly sad but beautiful all at the same time.”
“Well, if it helps, I also think that if two people are meant to be together, nothing can ever truly separate them. Time, distance, other people — it doesn’t matter. They’ll circle backaround to each other eventually.”
“You’re a closet romantic,” I whispered, more than thrilled at the discovery. “I bet you like Jane Austen novels and Nicholas Sparks movies,” I teased lightly, squeezing his hand in mine.
“Oh, shut up,” Sebastian growled, pulling me in for a hug as we came through the final stretch of woods and entered the clearing. “And don’t diss Jane.”
I burst into laughter and he begrudgingly joined in after a few seconds and a coercive elbow to the stomach.
My giggles abruptly dried up as I took in the clearing before me. This was clearly not Sebastian’s first trip to the glade today. Beneath the massive oak, a fluffy white blanket had been spread across the ground. Pillows were tossed artfully on top, and a picnic basket sat unobtrusively on a small mossy boulder nearby. Tall, unlit pillar candles in glass jars were scattered around the perimeter, and a string of white paper lanterns had been hung from the lowest tree branch overhead.
It was beautiful — like I’d stumbled into a scene from a fairytale.