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Back Going Under Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  3. DEDICATION
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I BIRTH
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. PART II LIFE
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. TWENTY
  27. TWENTY-ONE
  28. TWENTY-TWO
  29. TWENTY-THREE
  30. TWENTY-FOUR
  31. TWENTY-FIVE
  32. TWENTY-SIX
  33. TWENTY-SEVEN
  34. TWENTY-EIGHT
  35. TWENTY-NINE
  36. THIRTY
  37. THIRTY-ONE
  38. THIRTY-TWO
  39. THIRTY-THREE
  40. THIRTY-FOUR
  41. PART III DEATH
  42. THIRTY-FIVE
  43. THIRTY-SIX
  44. THIRTY-SEVEN
  45. THIRTY-EIGHT
  46. THIRTY-NINE
  47. FORTY
  48. FORTY-ONE
  49. FORTY-TWO
  50. FORTY-THREE
  51. FORTY-FOUR
  52. FORTY-FIVE
  53. FORTY-SIX
  54. FORTY-SEVEN
  55. FORTY-EIGHT
  56. FORTY-NINE
  57. FIFTY
  58. FIFTY-ONE
  59. FIFTY-TWO
  60. FIFTY-THREE
  61. FIFTY-FOUR
  62. FIFTY-FIVE
  63. FIFTY-SIX
  64. FIFTY-SEVEN
  65. FIFTY-EIGHT
  66. FIFTY-NINE
  67. SIXTY
  68. EPILOGUE
  69. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  70. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

He starts laughing, half in irritation and half in disbelief. ‘This is just like that time in Zermatt when you thought I’d left you at the top of the run and you skied off in a huff. By the time I found you in the bar at the bottom of the slopes, you were drunk with a group of German guys on a bucks’ weekend.’

‘I thought you’d left me stranded!’

‘I had to go to the bathroom!’

We yell at each other for a few more minutes, until I give in and start to laugh.

‘I guess I could try to find a flight to Sweden,’ he suggests, grinning. ‘Then we could fight in person.’

Fabien and I spend our romantic night together on Skype getting drunk on the contents of our respective minibars. He looks up flights to Sweden, but they’re all over a thousand dollars one way.

‘I’ll do it,’ he offers, opening his fifth beer. ‘I reckon Dad would lend me some money.’

‘Nah, don’t worry,’ I say. ‘I think I might have overreacted a bit.’

He smiles sheepishly. ‘I shouldn’t have tried for a surprise.’

‘I’m not much good at surprises,’ I admit. ‘Being a doctor has really killed my spontaneous side.’

We stay on Skype until the early hours of the morning. I can’t believe it, but it’s the best date I’ve ever had.

‘Maybe we do better being in different countries,’ he says, his head resting on the hotel pillow, looking into the camera. ‘This has been a really good night together.’

‘I’m leaving in two days,’ I say sadly. ‘I don’t think we’ll get to see each other.’

‘I think I’m going to come home at the end of the year anyway,’ he says. ‘Life on the road is getting a bit old, you know?’

I laugh in disbelief. ‘Sure.’

He grins at me. ‘Maybe I’ll surprise you.’

‘You know how much I love your surprises.’

I don’t believe him for a second. He’s been saying this for the last two years, so I’ve learned to ignore it. I know he thinks he means it, but then another adventure will beckon and the pull of home will be lessened by a new mountain, or a new beach—or, I think regretfully, a new girl.

‘Lightning strikes, remember?’ he says.

I nod. ‘I remember.’

It’s bittersweet, our European night together. I want to feel happy, but I can’t, then I try to feel sad, but that doesn’t quite work either.