Page 71 of Ticket to You

Once I’ve memorized the bathroom, I go to Adam’s bedroom. Between two tall windows opposite the door, a painted mountainscape hangs. A wool Pendleton blanket is folded at the foot of the pristinely-made bed, offering a splash of color. Adam hung shelves and hooks all along the left wall. Ropes, helmets, backpacks, sleeping bags, headlamps, and a handful of things I can’t even identify are arranged neatly. Everything has a designated spot, and a few areas are empty. I glare at the blank gaps, knowing that those things must already be packed into Adam’s bags, ready to follow him on his great adventure—unlike me.

Adam’s room is the perfect embodiment of him. It’s organized and particular, and at first glance looks too rigid. But then there’s the plush duvet and the colorful wool blanket showing a warm and welcoming side. With a sudden weakness in my legs, I sit on the edge of the bed and try to forget what tomorrow will bring.

When Adam’s bags are packed and his pre-trip calls are made, he finds me on his bed, unmoving. It doesn’t take long before we’re under the covers together, the streetlights outside casting shadows against our bodies as we make love again, slower this time, taking our time to ensure every touch is appreciated.

I planned on going back to my apartment before work so I could get ready there, but what was meant to be Adam’s goodbye kiss in the morning isn’t enough, and we wind up on the couch, making love yet again right before I leave for work. We don’t have the luxury of taking it slow, and we’re a jumble of arms and legs and messy kisses and slipping tongues. I’ve grown quickly attached to Adam’s affection, though, so I don’t mind if it’s messy and rushed, just as long as it’s there.

And it’sthere. His affection shows through his beaming smile, through his furrowed brows, through his fingers that grip me.

I don’t have time to fix my hair or lipstick before I go. When I pick up the white blouse I had on just minutes ago, I find it’s streaked with makeup from when Adam pulled it over my head, both of us too impatient to unbutton it first. Without a word, Adam hurries to his room and brings me a pinstripe button-up. It’s far too big on me, but I cuff the sleeves and unbutton it halfway. Jane will hate this outfit, but I don’t care. Not right now.

“Does one of your neighbors have a key they can let me in with so I can grab my bags tonight?” I ask Adam when I’m already halfway out the door.

“Here.” He grabs my hand and opens it, placing a cold metal key in my palm. “But if you steal anything, I’ll know it was you or Eloise. Fair warning.”

The key feels heavier than I expected. I stare at it, avoiding Adam’s gaze.

“Are you alright?” Adam uses his thumb to tip my chin up, bringing my eyes to his. I try to memorize the exact shades of blue I’m met with. It’ll be months before I see them again.

I bite my lip. “Have fun on your trip, Abrams.”

Adam’s jaw flexes. He tilts down, resting his forehead against mine. I close my eyes, breathing in his true, full scent, listening to his shallow heartbeats, feeling the sparks between where our skin touches.

“I used to look forward to these trips. But I admit, I’m dreading leaving. You have ruined goodbyes for me,” Adam murmurs.

* * *

Jane can pickup on a single stray hair or piece of lint, so I know she will notice my puffy, tired eyes and dehydrated skin. Not even a thick layer of Lancôme eye cream and La Mer moisturizer can save me today. Even so, I go through the motions of pre-Jane primping, stealing some products from our sample bin to refresh my makeup in theAtelier Todaybathroom, smoothing out my hair with my fingers and straightening my skirt.

When I get to Jane’s office, she does her usual assessment of my outfit and tilts her head to the side. When her gaze moves to my face and my unruly, uncooperative hair, she takes off her glasses and lifts her eyebrows.

“Good morning,” I say, my voice hollow.

“What is thatthingon your wrist?” Jane asks, her voice sharp.

I look down, already smiling. My pink, strawberry-print watch is on proud display, ticking away dependably. “It was a gift.”

Jane peers at me from under her blunt bangs and shakes her head slowly before continuing. “I have good news and bad, Ophelia. The good news is you endured a trip with someone you barely know, someone who you don’t exactly get along with—or so I hear.” I flinch at her allusion to Adam. “And even with practically no team behind you, you conducted four separate interviews. While the drafts could use some polishing, they’re solid. You’ve proved your work ethic to me and to Hoffman Publishing.”

“Thank you,” I say evenly.

“That brings us to the bad news. Although Hoffman’s is not laying you off, they won’t be sending any of our journalists on company trips for the foreseeable future.”

Something bubbles in my stomach as Jane’s words bounce around in my mind, like a racquetball firing around its court.

Six years of networking.

Six years of unpaid overtime.

Six years of busting my ass for this job.

Six years,and my crowned achievement is goneso soon after it started. Just like that. The sounds around me become distant, as if I’m underwater. I have to close my eyes to focus on Jane’s voice.

Jane continues, “There is more good news. Hoffman’s would like to promote you to be an editor here atAtelier Today. I know writing has your heart, but right now we need people working on the business side, not on the creative side.”

I feel jostled around from all the events from this morning. “I wouldn’t be writing? I would just be…overseeing?”

Jane purses her lips and her body goes even more rigid than usual. “You’re not thinking about this the right way. You should focus on what you’ll be gaining, not the few things you’ll be losing.”

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