Page 92 of Not As Advertised

Sitting back in my seat, I didn’t hear a word that was spoken for the remaining several minutes to close out the meeting. I should have paid attention, considering my fate was on the line, but all I could think about was getting to Abbie.

Driving into the madness that was LA rush-hour traffic, I took a quick sip of my third iced coffee of the day. Navigating thousands of cars, all apparently wanting to be in a different lane than their current one, was not for the faint of heart or the undercaffeinated.

Two weeks of driving down the coast had been amazing and beautiful and sad and lonely, all at once. Having ample time meant I could spend a day or two at each stop instead of hours of driving every day. On one hand, I was proud of myself for actually navigating the conditions of all the misty roads along the Pacific. Driving down Highway 1, I’d learned that some areas of the coast didn’t have reception, so I needed to make sure to keep my gas tank full and my caffeine intake up.

I had about two thousand photos to go through for all my efforts and more than one hundred release forms stowed safely in the back seat.

Needing permission to take pictures with people in them meant that I had to ask permission first. The first twenty… okay, forty times, I’d had to approach a person or group to askif I could take their photo for my portfolio had made me want to vomit on the spot. I hated to admit that each time I asked, approaching the next group got a tiny bit easier.

Masking my sadness was easier with strangers. It still took a lot of energy, leaving me exhausted in the evenings, but it freed me from the worry that I would be scrutinized in any way. I was just some woman taking pictures on the coast. There was freedom in my anonymity.

It was enough to combat the sadness of missing Aiden until night fell. The heavy weight that hit the first few days felt like moving while wearing the lead blanket they put over a patient when taking X-rays. Each step was a siren’s call to return to the warm covers in a quiet hotel room.

I caught a break when I got into my new therapist’s schedule via a cancelation. Admittedly, I didn’t know what to expect from the first appointment, but Sarah, my therapist, was someone who had the knack of immediately putting me at ease. Even just the thought of having someone who knew about anxiety and depression in my corner made me feel a little less overwhelmed by all my emotions. It was great to feel like I had an expert in my corner who would really be able to help.

By the second appointment, my sadness and worry were dragging me down to the point where I explained my breakup and job conflict. The simple act of describing the situation to my therapist helped start cracking the tightly constructed brick wall that had trapped me in the darkness.

It was going to be a lot of work to start to feel better. Maybe because I was in a different place in my life than when I’d first considered therapy, I found that my willingness to do whatever was necessary to help myself had fallen into place.

I’d received a few text messages from Aiden the day he’d gotten back to Amado. Guilt and regret had settled deep in my stomach when I’d decided not to reply to him. I didn’t wanthim hurting, but I wasn’t in a state where I could give concrete answers about any part of my life. His final text had been the hardest not to respond to.

Aiden

Abbie, I’m sorry. I’ve made so many mistakes. I’m going to make things right, sweetheart. I promise.

The term of endearment had cut sharply since I’d realized that I’d never hear him say those words to me again. I reasoned once he got over the guilt of the risks to my job, he would come back to his senses and remember the reasons he’d ended things between us.

I’d forced myself to stop revisiting our relationship through my photos. I had so few pictures of him and had gone over them incessantly the first few nights away from home. I had that first photo I’d taken while he was sitting with his sister in the little café, one of him dressed as Giovanni from Team Rocket at Anime Expo, plus a few cozy selfies I’d taken of us cuddled up in bed.

Obsessing over him hadn’t made me feel any better. I didn’t want to stay brokenhearted forever. Even if it felt like I would never get over him, I needed to find a way to move on.

When I’d left Amado, I had only wanted to run away from the pain of seeing Aiden again so soon after breaking up and from having to make a decision about my job.

Watching the rugged coastline, the rocks, beach, and sea play peekaboo with the heavy mist that took all day to clear. It was then I stopped running. With my therapist’s help and beginner’s mindfulness exercises, I was now stumbling toward something new and real.

I’d just need to keep taking it day by day.

Now, two weeks later, my heart lightened as I pulled into the maze of parking at LAX and thought about spending the next week on vacation with Indie and Emery. We’d never before collectively let go of our responsibilities to spend time together.

Dodging the never-ending stream of cars, buses, and shuttle buses, I found my way into the arrival area. I scanned the board for their flight’s luggage carousel. From the look of it, the plane had landed about twenty minutes early. Hopefully, they hadn’t been standing around waiting for me.

Even though my feelings were still a bit tender, the time to grieve and heal without the pressures of work had given me the strength to finish what I started with my photography project. It was to reward myself through time with my friends.

I walked toward the second to the last carousel, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. I checked my phone for texts, but there were none. Odd.

Had they missed their flight? Surely, they would have let me know.

As bags continued to tumble down the chute and onto the conveyor belt, I kept my eyes peeled for my two friends. Did they think I was meeting them outside the terminal?

I ducked my head to shoot off a quick “Where are you?” text to Indie and Emery. I didn’t realize I was in anyone’s way until a rough voice was right behind me.

“Excuse me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I turned around to move, but a warm hand grasped my elbow. My soul momentarily left my body in shock.

“Aiden, I’m supposed to meet Indie and Emery? How are you here right now?”

Speechless, I took in every inch of Aiden that I could see. But he wasn’t my Aiden. Oh no, he was dressed as Tuxedo Mask fromSailor Moon!

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