Now seemed as good a time as any. Nate had put it off long enough. He’d dropped out of Tulane for the semester after his parents convinced the school to let him defer for a year. And Nate had spent that year living. It was impossible and wonderful all at once. Just like Camille had been. And that seemed to make his adventures that much more fitting.
There were days when he wanted to give up and cry, and sometimes he did. But then he would think of Camille and her quiet strength. And how everyday, she put one foot in front of the other. And that made him fight. It made him live. He owed that to her.
So Nate had spent that last six months living, for Camille. Seeing all the places he knew she would’ve wanted to see. Doing all the things she would’ve wanted to do. He was living for both of them, and somehow, it was making things easier.
Every time he felt weak or sad, he pictured her face. And in every memory, she wore a smile that touched his heart. How could he be sad when he’d had the privilege of knowing her? How could he be weak when she had been strong?
At some point, Nate turned his sadness into fire. Letting the sorrow take hold would’ve been a disservice to Camille. She had brought him so much joy and life. She was too bright to last, and perhaps that’s what had drawn him to her in the first place.
Camille had it all wrong. She’d always said Nate was her sunshine. But Camille had been Nate’s. Her light filled the unquenchable void that Tyler left. And though she was gone, her light would remain—left behind to inspire Nate, and everyone else whose life she’d touched.
Nate took a deep breath and finally opened the large envelope Camille had addressed to him. Inside were four smaller gray envelopes. Each had a handwritten note on the outside, penned in Camille’s looping handwriting. They read:
Open first.
Open when you feel sad.
Open when you feel happy.
Open when you need to hold my hand.
Nate gently opened the first envelope with shaking hands. His eyes misted as he read her words.
You must remember this
A kiss is still a kiss
A sigh is still just a sigh
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by
And when two lovers woo
They still say: I love you
On that you can rely
No matter what the future brings
As time goes by.
Moonlight and love songs, never out of date
Hearts full of passion, jealousy and hate
Woman needs man, and man must have his mate
That no one can deny
It’s still the same old story
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by.
She’d written out the lyrics to ‘As Time Goes By’—their song. And beneath it, she’d written him a note.
Nate,
I love you. Like moonlight and love songs. Like the oceans and rivers. Like dancing in the rain. I will never stop loving you. And I am forever grateful that you gave me so much more than time. You gave me life and chaos and adventure. And I have no right to ask for anything more. But I need you to promise me one thing. Promise me that you’ll stay the boy I fell in love with. The boy who says hello and isn’t afraid to go after everything he wants. Because there is so much life left for that boy. And I want you to use every second of it to be happy. You are good, Nathan Hawthorne. You make me happy. Be happy, too. It’s time to live for yourself now.
I’ll love you ‘til the end of time.
Until our next hello,
XO – Your Cami
The shimmering lights of the Eiffel Towel blurred in the distance as Nate’s tears spattered the letter. He was trembling as her read her words over and over. He needed more. He tore into the letters titled when you are happy and when you are sad. Because Nate had never felt both so equally in all his life. Camille’s words breathed life into him. And for a moment, it was like she was there beside him and the happiness overwhelmed him. But it faded quickly, ripping the remains of his heart out along with it.
His eyes poured over the letters. They both said the same thing.
Nate,
I love you. Thank you for saying hello.
Cami
He tore into the last letter. The one that read Open when you need to hold my hand. Inside was a pattern she’d traced around her hand. In the palm she’d written a note.
Nate,
The greatest thing I ever held in my hand, is yours. Don’t be afraid to let someone else hold it.
Cami
Nate sat alone for a long while. He read and reread the letters until every word had cemented itself in his heart. He felt a weight lift as he tucked the letters back into his breast pocket, above his heart. He had one thing left to do. He picked up Camille’s Polaroid camera and took a photo of the Eiffel Tower. He watched the shimmering image of light come to life on the film. When it shone back at him in all its glory, he wrote two words on it before tucking it into his pocket.
Hello Paris
Nate stayed for a while longer, holding onto the peace of this moment. He’d saved Paris for last. It was the final item on the Hello Wall he and Cami had created together. He thought he’d feel sadness, like he’d lost his connection to her. Yet, it was the opposite. Nate felt the static energy of life flowing around him. He finally realized by coming to Paris he was letting go in a sense. But that was okay. Because sometimes, love meant letting go.
As Nate stood to leave, someone bumped into him. Her purse fell to the ground, spilling its contents onto the street. Nate scrambled to help collect the items, but his breath caught as his fingers met a pink and white Hello Kitty PEZ dispenser. He picked it up, half expecting to see Camille standing there grinning at him. Instead, a petite French girl greeted him with a smile.
“Merci, merci!” She exclaimed thanking Nate for his help. She righted her purse and extended her hand. “Bonjour. I’m Zoë.”
Nate’s chest swelled, and slowly he reached for her hand. “Hello.”
Author’s Note
1.2 million new cancer cases are diagnosed in the US each year. Cancer claims the life of 1,500 people per day in the US. That means everyday at least 1,500 people lose someone they love to illness. 1 in 10 suicides are linked to terminal illness Coping with cancer, terminal illness and loss is devastating for all those affected by it, including those left behind. This level of tragedy can leave those dealing with it feeling desperate and alone. You are not alone.
The number of people suffering in silence is staggering. In the US alone, 20% of the population suffers from mental illness; that’s over 42 million people. Of that number, 1 in 5 of them are teens. Suicide is the 3rd leading cause of death for those between the ages of 15-24. Depression is the leading cause for suicide in the US, where over 15 million people suffer.
I share these numbers so you can see that you are not alone. If you feel like giving up, don’t. You have a voice and it is one of many. Please use it to ask for help. Don’t allow the stigma that goes along with any kind of illness make you suffer in silence. Put one foot in front of the other and get help.
If you or someone you know is struggling with loss, illness, mental or emotional issues, depression, suicidal thoughts, bullying, or abuse, you are not alone. Numerous resources are available.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available 24/7. It’s free, confidential support available to help those in distress. They have resources for you and your loved ones. Call if you need help.
The American Cancer Society has tremendous resources dedicated to finding support and programs in your area. The National Cancer Information Center is a hotline available 24/7 providing information, answers and hope to those fighting cancer every day. Call if you need to talk.
Acknowledgments
In June, 2013, I lost my son to a terminal illness. This story was strongly influenced by the love and loss I strug
gle with every day. For a time, I let depression and darkness control my life. I felt completely lost, and sometimes I still do. I am a work in progress and that is okay. Because I am still here. I am still fighting. I have surrounded myself with faith, an amazingly supportive group of family and friends, and I've found the courage to allow the loss in my life to change me for the better.
It took the devastating loss of my son to wake me up to the fact that life is short. My hope for this book is that it teaches that lesson without the heartache. Dream big, follow your heart, pursue happiness, love fully, forgive easily, don’t live with regret, know what’s important.
Mostly, I hope this book helps readers know they are not alone. So many of us experience loss and suffering. To those of you, I say, let it change you for the better. Hold on to the memories, let go of the hurt, remember the laughter, cherish the love, and carve a place in your future to recapture hope, that one day you’ll be ready to say ‘Hello’ again. Until then, put one foot in front of the other and remember the best things in life are the ones worth fighting for.
Thank you to my husband, my ray of sunshine. Your smile is everything. You are my heart. You inspire possibility and you always make me want to say ‘Hello’.
Thank you to my family and friends whose generosity is immeasurable. And thank you to the counselors and physicians who dedicate their lives to giving us as much time as possible. Lastly, thank you to Dalton. You make me happy. You make me brave. You make me everything I never dreamt I could be. The sunrise will never be the same. I love you for always. Until our next hello.
To my readers,
I want to personally thank you for taking the time to seek out this great little indie book. Writing is truly my passion. I believe each of us can find a small part of ourselves in every book we read, and carry it with us, shaping our world, our adventures and our dreams.
Following my dream to write frees my soul but knowing others find joy in my writing is indescribable. So thank you for your support and I hope your enjoyed your brief escape into the magic of these pages.
If you enjoyed this story, don’t worry, there’s plenty more currently rattling around in my rambunctious imagination. Let me and others know your thoughts by sharing a review of this book. Reviews help shape my next writing projects. So if you want more books like this one be sure to shout it from the rooftops (or social media.) ;-)
- Christina Benjamin
PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW HERE
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Copyright © 2017 by Christina Benjamin
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crown Atlantic Publishing
Version 1.1
November 2017
To those who choose to believe in the magic of Christmas and never give up on miracles.
Prologue
A Haute Chic’s Holiday Survival Guide
Family drama is much easier to face with fierce lips.
Manolos are as last season as mistletoe.
. . .
Emma Rhodes stared at the blinking cursor on her laptop. She needed a third bullet point for her fashion blog, Fifth Ave Fab – A Haute Chic’s Guide to Life, but nothing was coming to her. She popped another wintermint Tic Tac into her mouth, crushing it in frustration. She looked at the empty candy container. Damn. She’d gone through a whole pack already.
Sighing, Emma turned back to her laptop. She needed to wrap up her latest entry. She’d promised her guidance counselor she’d have it ready to add to her portfolio by the time she returned from winter break.
Emma was perhaps the last high school senior at Stanton Prep to not submit her college applications. It’s not that she didn’t know what she wanted to do. She’d known she was going to go to school for fashion since she was old enough to spell Versace. And until last year, Emma would’ve said she was only applying to her dream school, Parsons, in New York City.
But twelve months ago, Emma found herself fleeing to Boston with her mother after divorce and deception had rocked her perfect Manhattan existence. And now, with only one term of high school looming between Emma and her future, she had a big decision to make.
Boston or New York? Her mother or her father? Boston University or Parsons School of Design? Flee for a fresh start or face old wounds?
Emma stared at her laptop, the cursor taunting her. Writing witty commentary on her blog had been her outlet since she left New York, and it normally came easy to her. But as her train chugged steadily toward Manhattan, she couldn’t concentrate. Perhaps she was more nervous about her first trip home than she’d thought. After all, she’d left the city for a reason—a tall, dark and handsome reason.
Emma sighed, trying to expel her jitters. She’d been looking forward to going home for the holidays for months. This would be the first Christmas she got to spend with her father since the divorce, and she wasn’t going to let anyone keep her from enjoying it. Especially not a particularly gorgeous blue-eyed boy with a devastating smile. For all Emma cared, Will Taylor’s chestnuts could be roasting on an open fire. She was going to explore her collegiate options and enjoy her holiday homecoming. Besides, nobody did Christmas like Manhattan.
1
Emma
Emma knocked on the door again, louder this time. But still there was no answer. “Great. Just great,” she muttered. One Christmas in Boston and her father had forgotten about her. Emma heard the bitter words of her mother echoed in her subconscious. ‘He’s replaced us.’ Emma shuddered against the classic divorce cliché. She knew marriages fell apart, but parents didn’t replace their kids. Surely Emma’s father hadn’t replaced her. She’d always been his princess—a daddy’s girl to the core.
She knocked one more time before slumping to the floor. Leaning against the door, Emma released a frustrated breath. Where the hell was her father? They were supposed to spend Christmas break together, and Emma had been looking forward to it for months. Her last Christmas was awful. Her mother hadn’t even let the ink dry on her divorce settlement before hauling Emma to Boston, where they spent the holiday eating Chinese food in a cold, empty brownstone.
Emma hated everything about Boston. She got that her mother needed a fresh start, and if she were being honest, Emma had wanted one too. But trading Manhattan for Boston was a like going from couture to off-the-rack—depressing.
Emma’s parents were well known in the elite Manhattan social circles and their divorce had been a very public and nasty one when word of her father’s mistress got out. Even the students at Emma’s prep school, the prestigious St. James Academy, were whispering about her father’s affair with some gold-digging model from South Carolina. But that’s not why Emma had been eager to flee. She was running from a broken heart of her own, caused by her ex-best friend and debilitating crush, Will Taylor.
Emma was grateful when the ding of the elevator distracted her from her spiraling thoughts of Christmas past. She looked down the hall of the posh high-rise apartment sure she’d see her father rushing toward her, an apology gift in hand for his tardiness. But it was only a well-dressed elderly couple. Emma sighed, sinking further into her spot on the floor. She shrugged off her red Burberry peacoat and pulled her iPhone from her Louis Vuitton hoping for a Christmas miracle, but it was still dead, just like it had been thirty minutes ago. She’d been watching movies on the train from Boston and killed the battery. And of course, she’d forgotten to pack a charger.
Tapping her foot restlessly, Emma racked her brain trying to remember if s
he knew anyone that lived in this building. Her father had sold their palatial penthouse apartment right after he divorced her mother, claiming he could no longer afford it after, “the God damned settlement your mother clawed out of me.” Emma knew that wasn’t true. Her father was a Wall Street legend. He owned a rather prestigious investment firm and according to the press, was doing just fine. She figured the change of scenery was because he’d wanted a fresh start too. Emma wished he could have just admitted that. It would’ve made losing her childhood home a bit easier.
Emma used to be close to her father, but since the divorce they’d grown apart. This would be the first time she saw his new place. She’d wanted to come back over spring break, but her father said he was in the middle of moving. Then over summer break, his excuse was he’d just started dating someone and thought it was, “too soon,” to introduce her to Emma. Although, is there ever a good time to meet the woman wearing your mother’s Louboutins?
Emma hated thinking about her father’s new girlfriend, but the mystery woman seemed to keep finding a way into her thoughts. Especially now that Emma was back in New York. She was used to being the center of her father’s attention—learning to share the spotlight might be more difficult than she’d imagined. Particularly because Emma couldn’t help wondering if the other woman was the reason why her father was currently standing her up. Was he out wining and dining his new girlfriend somewhere? Or worse, were they in the middle of some romantic liaison?
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