Page 72 of Parallel

I glance over my shoulder at Jeff and, though I couldn’t begin to justify my behavior if he were to wake, I open our window to the storm. Just a crack. Because, at the moment, even a bad wind would be welcome. Anything would be better than the emptiness I feel rightnow.

* * *

It’s still stormingoutside when I wake. Jeff is up and dressed, standing at the end of the bed. “I’m glad you’re up. I figure we might want to get to the airport early because of the weather. I don’t want to get bumped off ourflight.”

I swallow as I look at the empty duffel he’s left on the end of the bed. “Okay,” I whisper, taking the bag into thecloset.

I just need tothink. I needtime.

And there isn’tany.

I unzip the bag and begin filling it. My wedding dress is still at the bridal boutique, so I shove another dress in the bag instead, ambivalent about the fact that it will be crushed when we arrive. I can’t believe this is really happening. With each passing moment I get closer to a Vegas wedding while some voice in my head screamsStop! Stop!with increasingdistress.

“Don’t forget your swimsuit,” Jeffcalls.

Am I really doing this? Will we be at some hotel pool tomorrow as newlyweds?I open the drawer where I keep my bathing suits, but my hand climbs past the ones I wore all summer to an older one. Red,tiny.

It makes me think of Nick. For that very reason, I should not pack it, but I do. If I could, I’d clutch it to me like a blanket throughout the whole ordeal tocome.

* * *

The car arrives,and I take my purse and carry-on to the tiny Honda idling by the curb, the wind whipping my hair around my face. The car smells like something fake and floral, barely covering the odor of dirt beneath. Like our wedding will be—me saying all the right words to cover the ugly ones.I don’t want this. I think I’m in love with someone else. You don’t make mehappy.

“I’m not sure we can take off in this weather,” Isuggest.

“It’ll be fine. They take off in worse weather than this all the time.” His fingers wind through mine. “How weird is it that the next time you’re back here, you’ll be QuinnWalker?”

A chill climbs up my spine. I catch my reflection in the driver’s rearview mirror—pale beneath my tan, eyes wide and scared—just as a burst of wind brings the trees to swaying, terrifying life. Inside the car, we are sheltered from it, breathing in only the dirt and its fake floral overlay. And I am so absolutely still, andempty.

I am suffocating here. I need to let the wind in, both the bad and the good. My father gave me two different messages. I don’t know what changed, but the version of him that wasn’t dying and drugged would never want this for me. He’d want me to embrace the unknown, even if it wasdangerous.

Yes, Nick could break my heart, could hurt me in ways that make the tumor’s damage seem minimal by contrast. But maybe even that is better than this stillness, than being so empty inside I’m not sure I care if the plane goes down. There are worse things than chaos and disaster. There isdeath.

This, with Jeff, feels a lot likedeath.

The cab turns into the airport’s entrance and pulls up to ticketing. Jeff jumps out first, grabbing his bag and setting mine on the curb. “Wait,” I tell the driver as I slide out. Jeff is halfway to the doors before he realizes I’m still by thecar.

“I can’t do this.” The sound of the words shocksme.

He comes back and reaches for my hand. “Quinn, it’ll be fine. They aren’t going to put the plane up in the air if it isn’tsafe.”

I shake my head. “I’m not talking about the plane. I’m talking about the wedding.” I slide the ring off my finger. “I can’t marry you. I’m sosorry.”

He steps close, wrapping his hands around my arms. Just like Nick did the other day, only his grip is hard, bruising. “Stop this,” he hisses. “We made a plan and we’re seeing itthrough.”

My heart stutters, trips over itself. “No.” I try to pull back, but his hands tighten. “Let mego.”

“Let’s just get on the plane,” he says, struggling to control his voice. “We’ve already got tickets. If you really don’t want to go through with it when we get there, we won’t. We’ll just have a fun night in Vegas and comehome.”

I’m tempted to go along with it, to not make a fuss, because that’s who I am. That’s who I’ve been with him, always. Except I don’t want to give him another day, or another hour, of my life. He’s had far too many of them as it is. “I’m sorry, Jeff. I’m so sorry. But our life just doesn’t make mehappy.”

A vein in his neck throbs. “I can’t believe this shit. Since when does our life suddenly not make you happy?” he demands. “Since you metNick?”

No, I think.Our life always made me unhappy. I just didn’t realize it until I saw something better.“You’re not hearing me,” I tell him. “I probably only have a year or two to live. I’m not sure how I want to spend it. But I know this isn’tit.”

I pull out of his grip and step into the Uber before he can find a way to stop me. He’s banging on the window and trying to open the door, even as we pullaway.

34

---