Page 88 of Still The One

‘Oh?’ I say, wondering what on earth that could be.

‘Yeah.’

I find myself standing there, not wanting to utter the words that will make this real. As the announcement for his flight echoes through the air for a second time, I realize that I have to let him go, even though every fiber of my being resists.

‘I guess this is goodbye then, huh?’ I choke the words out.

He steps back, his fingertips slowly gliding down my arm, before he grasps my hand tightly.

‘I suppose so,’ he says in a hushed tone.

‘Text me when you land?’ I request. ‘Just so I know you got home safe.’

He nods, and if I’m not mistaken, I swear I see a glimmer of tears welling up in his eyes, mirroring the same emotion I feel. His eyes lock onto mine with such intensity that the overwhelming sense of his impending absence, even as hecontinues to stand right in front of me, nearly stops my barely beating heart. Maybe I made a mistake? I did. I made the mistake of letting him in again.

‘Make sure to take your pain medication – the lower dose – once you board the flight. You don’t want to be sore mid-air.’ I struggle to keep my voice steady, fearing that my emotions might betray me as I anticipate returning to my apartment without him.

‘I promise I’ll stay on top of the weaning off the pain meds,’ he assures me.

‘OK.’

He lets go of my hand and stoops to pick up his bag, slinging the strap over his uninjured shoulder. He hesitates for a second, then makes his way toward the passenger-only area of the airport without saying the word goodbye.

As he walks, he looks back a few times. I manage to keep my composure each time, but I can’t bring myself to leave until he’s entirely out of view. Just before he disappears around a corner, he glances back once more. I raise my hand, trying to force a smile despite the turmoil inside me.

Turn back, you idiot.

He waves, but his gesture lacks enthusiasm and two seconds later he’s out of my sight. Gone. I stand there, waiting, until I hear the final boarding call for his flight. That’s when I know, he isn’t pulling a Rachel Green. Foster isnotgetting off the plane. My heart feels like it’s flatlining.

Don’t die completely, heart,I say to myself, turning to leave before I lose it in public.Please, don’t die.

‘I’m sorry, honey,’ Phil murmurs, perched on a bar-stool next to me, adorned with glow sticks on every limb and around his head as usual. ‘If it’s any consolation, he didn’t walk away from you easily.’

‘That’s the worst kind of consolation,’ I say with a heavy heart.

‘He did, uh—’ Phil stalls, reaching into his pants pocket, ‘—he left you something.’

That’s right. I forgot he’d said that.

‘What?’

‘This.’ Phil sets a folded piece of notebook paper on the bar in front of me.

For a second, I stare at it – wondering what it is but afraid to open it.

‘Did you look?’ I ask.

Phil nods. ‘I think you should too.’

I set my drink on the bar and slowly unfold paper that feels delicate. Like it’s been folded and unfolded over and over and may fall apart at any moment.

Once I’ve got it opened, I suck in a breath, seeing my own handwriting staring back at me.

‘I can’t believe he kept this,’ I whisper, my heart aching as I look at the note in front of me.

‘Me either. But he pulled it out of his wallet last night with tears in his eyes and said even though reading it hurt, it’s the only way he knew to keep you with him after you left.’

I cry, wiping the tears away so I can read the words I’d never forgotten. ‘Loveshouldbe enough.’ Where my name was signed is now crossed out with bright pink ink and instead, his name is scribbled underneath it.

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