Page 96 of Bad Boy Neighbor

My choice.

My decision.

My way of fighting against what my heart wants.

Twenty-Eight

Gabriella

“Excuse me, Miss. Do you need any assistance?”

I almost bump into the security guard, dazed and not paying attention to anything.

“No, I’m sorry. Just daydreaming.”

He nods without a smile, then leaves me alone again.

The airport looks more like a shopping mall than a building transporting people back and forth from domestic and international destinations. Designer brands my mother would froth over.

I arrive with plenty of time to spare, still managing to meet Miles for a farewell coffee. Much like our initial meeting, he was just as welcoming. We made plans to keep in contact via the phone and social media, and he even mentioned a trip to California in a few months when his twins graduate.

Meeting Miles was my scapegoat for leaving Oliver’s apartment. The damage is done. I had laid my cards out, more so than I ever thought possible. I never expected him to beg me to stay. Oliver will always be Oliver. Soccer is his life, and he deserves to welcome that back without my presence as a distraction.

It is time for me to leave for good. I did what I needed to do here in Australia. I’ve answered the burning questions of my paternity and visited the ghosts of my past by confronting Oliver. I even succumbed to my desire to be close to him—the shower incident based on spontaneity.

Yet, deep down inside, I know my heart can only withstand so much. I’ve built a wall, a defense mechanism to fight the turmoil of saying goodbye to Oliver.

It isn’t easy to leave, even when it’s the only option available. In so many ways, Oliver and I are like fire and ice. We were never truly in sync with each other. If I force my stay, Oliver will end up resenting me. His focus needs to be solely on him.

And I need to continue my reign on freedom and find myself in a world full of endless possibilities.

The tiles under my feet gleam white. No matter where I turn, people are milling around. There are several duty-free stores, so many choices depending on your taste. The high-end stores are not as busy, but there are a few shoppers, mainly older ladies with cash to burn on designer handbags and expensive jewelry.

There’s a glass elevator leading to an upper floor which has the appearance of a first-class lounge. The irony of traveling economy is not lost on me.

In the middle of the open area are several tables and brown leather lounges.

I’ve perused a few of the stores, purchasing a small stuffed koala bear to keep as a souvenir. With still some time to pass, I make my way toward the terminal to sit and pull out the book I’m currently reading. Another Lana recommendation and this one is a historical romance but full of smut according to her. Why does she always do this to me.

With my book on my lap, my mind refuses to focus, so I place it back in my bag, watching my surroundings.

People walk around the terminal so differently. Some almost skip with eager expressions at the thought of leaving for another shore. Others—mainly men in business suits—walk as if they’re boarding a rundown bus, no more exciting than any other commute.

Then there are the nervous ones, quick steps and stern expressions, everything about them tight and fearful. A mother with four kids is at her wit’s end trying to calm her overactive older children while her husband is wrestling with a toddler.

“Honey, did you pack the pacifier?”

The husband’s face drops, the wife instantly riddled with panic.

“Yes. Here, take Joshua, and I’ll check the bag.”

I’m fascinated by this family. I can barely remember packing my own stuff let alone for a family of six. The husband has pulled everything out of the bag, and after several minutes, a raised voice from the wife, and the two older boys getting into an argument over an iPad charger, the pacifier is held into the air like the holy grail.

“You know, over a million people walk these terminals per day. That’s a lot of people-watching,” a familiar voice beside me says.

The corners of my lips turn up, the voice spreading warmth throughout my entire body.

“Psychologists say that observing people unleashes your inner self-doubt, making you less conscious about your actions or appearance.” I inform him with straight face.

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