Page 167 of Wherever You Are
His forehead touches mine, our mouths an aching distance away. “It is certain,” Garrison whispers, and we kiss with slow, yearning passion.
We’re twenty-four, but when we’re together, I feel blown back. It feels like we’re only twenty, then seventeen. Distance, time, miles and hours are intangible, metaphysical things, all woven and jumbled in an invisible tapestry, and like my favorite comic books, the beginning is really the end and the end is just the beginning.
42BACK THEN – August
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 20
Candlelight bathes Willow’s bedroom, rose and vanilla scent strong. Music plays softly from a playlist. It feels like I’m living a dream—and tomorrow I’ll wake up in my tattered, damaged reality.
Until then, I’ll stay here.
I’ll never wake up.
Willow is tucked close in my arms, her heartbeat slowing as we both let the night wash over us. I just took her virginity. Filled her in ways I never have before.
It’s been one of the best nights of my life, but it ends soon. And I really haven’t come to grips with that.
“What time is it?” Willow whispers, cocooned by my body. I have the better view of the clock. It’s that weird time period, what some people call morning and other people call night. 3:10 a.m.
I know what she’s really asking. “We have to leave in twenty-minutes.”
Her suitcase is already downstairs beside the door. We’ve even showered, dressed, and returned to bed, lying on top of the comforter. I don’t want Willow to leave my arms because there are parts of me that wonder—maybe this is it.
This is the last time I get to hold her.
She’s moving to London.
She’s starting a life over there.
I’d be an idiot to think there’s a good probability this can last. But Christ, I want to believe it. I want to believe this is just a roadblock, a setback—not the end.
Never the end.
I swallow hard and kiss the top of her head. We’re quiet in the stillness of the room, letting the moment pass.
“Maybe I should stay,” she starts.
“No.” I rub at my dry, raw eyes. “Let’s just head to the airport. We’ll have more time in the car together.” I need to get moving because the longer I lie here, I’ll do something stupid. Like agree to her suggestion.
She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, and I see that she’s been crying.
“Hey.” I pull her into my chest. I need to be the strong one here. Even though I’m being ripped open. “We’re not apart yet.” I brush her tears with my thumb. “And when we are, I’ll be all over you with my ones and zeroes.”
Her lips lift in a quivering smile. “Me too.”
We all drive to the airport together, the private plane sitting on the tarmac. Willow’s not taking commercial this time because Lo wanted to say goodbye at the airport and not back home. Paparazzi aren’t allowed here, and it gives Willow enough peace to talk to everyone.
Wind whips around us. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the airport lights illuminate the area. I watch as each of Willow’s family hug her goodbye. Her dad, her brothers, Lily, Rose, and Connor. She bends down to put her arms around three-year-olds Maximoff and Jane. The toddlers sniff loudly, sad about their Aunt Willow and favorite babysitter leaving them. Nearly one-year-old twins, Charlie and Beckett smile as Willow kisses the tops of their heads.
When she moves to Daisy, it’s harder.
Everyone falls hushed. In Daisy’s arms is a six-month-old baby, Sullivan Meadows, who almost didn’t make it into the world. Willow lets Sulli wrap her little fingers around her pinky, the one with the friendship ring. And Daisy and Willow break into sobs.
I stand off to the side, watching each goodbye through a sickness that tosses my stomach in awful knots. My throat swollen. My whole body tensed up in terrible ways.
