Page 141 of Keep This Promise
I’m here, at the airport, and am about to leave my life behind for a new one, all the while not having a clue as to where the danger might come from.
Eden is asleep in my arms, and I’m doing my best to hold it together for her. “What do you mean that’s all the instructions you were given? Nothing else? Where do I go now? I was told to follow directions, but no one has given me any!” I release my breath, working hard to stay calm because it isn’t Martin’s fault. He’s merely giving me what he knows. “I’m sorry. I am . . .”
“I understand. All I was told was to give you the tickets.”
Which is a direction, I suppose. “All right. Please help me inside then.”
He looks uncomfortable at that request.
I lift my head to meet his eyes. “Is there something wrong, Martin?”
“I cannot follow you inside.”
“What?”
“I was terminated at the moment you exited the car.”
My jaw drops. “By whom?”
“Mr. Pearson. If I don’t follow the instructions I was given, I will not receive the very...generous severance package I am set to receive.”
My God. He is serious. I want to ask him how anyone would know, but then Eden lifts her head. “Mummy, where are we?”
I rub her back, rocking slightly, just in case she’ll fall back asleep. “We’re at the airport. We’re going on holiday, isn’t that going to be fun?”
She shakes her head. No, I don’t think so either, but here we are.
“Daddy?”
One word manages to make me feel like crumbling to the ground. “Just us, love. Just us.”
Because your daddy is gone, and you will never see him again.
I can’t tell her that. Not only because I can’t speak the words but also because I won’t hurt her that way.
Not when I’m ripping her out of her comfortable life.
I turn back to Martin. “Then it’s best you go and follow your directions.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
He places the bags on the sidewalk, and I could laugh because there’s not a chance I can manage all of this and Eden by myself. Yet, this is my reality.
“Could you get me a trolley? I don’t want to leave our bags unattended . . .”
Martin gives me a sad smile and then lifts his hand. Someone comes over, and he hands him a large tip to bring a trolley over.
“I must go now. I am sorry, Mrs. Pearson. I . . . I’m sorry.”
“Theo loved you,” I tell him. “He trusted you, and that mattered to him.”
He lowers his gaze. “It is why I must go. He was very clear about his wishes and that it was of grave importance I do as it says.”
“Yes, he seemed to have the same grave warning messages for me as well.”
The man walks over and helps load my bags for me. I thank him, and then Martin comes forward, pulling me into an unusual embrace. “Be safe, Sophie.” When he kisses the top of Eden’s head, there is moisture building in his eyes.
Martin has been our personal driver for almost four years. He is who drove me to the hospital when I was in labor, ensured Eden’s first car ride was safe, and will be possibly the last familiar face I will see for a long time. I am going to miss him.
