Page 29 of Wrecked
I move toward the large oakwood cabinet to grab a mug when one is placed on the counter in front of me. Coffeealready filled to the brim, smokey steam rising from the cup. The perfect amount of cream. The fragrance is almost orgasmic after the night I had. I turn around to find Nate behind me, a piece of bacon hanging from his mouth as he recaps the lid on the coffee creamer.
“Morning,” I say shyly, the weight of his gaze making me anxious. His eyes flick to mine, searching. He must like what he finds because he gives me his signature smile. The smile he only gives to me.
“Mornin’, Pip.” He sets a plate of bacon and toast next to my coffee and discreetly squeezes my hip from behind me. His hand lingers, the feather-soft touch fading as it glides down my side when he passes. I have the sudden desire to feel his hands all over me, right here on the kitchen counter, touching me in all the ways he knows that I love. Because he knows me…just like he knows how I take my coffee.
“We should get on the road.” Katie’s lifeless voice breaks through my thoughts. She’s standing in the living room, still facing the colorless wall as if it’s providing the answers to life’s most challenging questions. My heart cracks at the sound of her desolate voice. Why is it so easy for me to forget there is a person I love hurting on the other end of this? I need to keep my head out of the clouds and redirect my attention to what really matters. Helping Katie get through the heartbreak she will experience after we return. These five days will be forme. To learn the truth. To voice the things that I’ve needed to express.
To say goodbye.
Because as much as it hurts to acknowledge, Nate and Ellie will no longer exist beyond this week.
The twenty-minute carride to the airport was quiet, verging on uncomfortable. We all know we are traveling to pick up a wedding dress that will never be worn inside a church. It will likely never be removed from the plastic garment bag protecting it from potential ruin, even though the destruction has already occurred.
We get out of the car, grabbing our luggage from the back of the SUV. Katie drives off the moment the trunk latches. No hug. No last looks. No goodbye.
The airport is packed with people shoving their way through the crowd in a desperate attempt to make their flights. We make it through security quickly, gathering our belongings at the end of the conveyor belt. As we weave down the long corridor toward our gate, Nate grabs my hand, threading our fingers together, ensuring I keep up. I feel a jolt of electricity the second our hands connect. He gives my hand a small squeeze, letting me know he feels it too. I can’t explain it, but it just feels…right.
How quickly I forgot my game plan.
We arrive at our gate just as boarding begins. I expect Nate to let go of my hand, but he doesn’t. His thumb traces mine, calming my nerves, along with the remnants of my earlier foreboding thoughts.
“You ready, baby?” he asks softly. My heart flutters at the nickname. One he shouldn’t be giving me.
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
He looks down at me, studying my face. “No, you don’t.” His hard eyes hold mine, challenging me to argue.
I can’t, so I decide to ignore him until we board the aircraft.
We walk onto the plane, hand-in-hand, and make our way down the slim aisle to our seats. He steps to the side and lets me have the window. I expect him to leave a space between us and take the aisle seat, but his large frame descends next to me in the middle. The chilly air from the upper vent is shooting me directly in the eye, and Nate reaches up to close it.
I don’t even have to ask.
The flight attendants give us evacuation instructions, and I put in my ear pods, having heard this spiel too many times to count. Before I know it, the plane is getting into the take-off position on the runway. I feel Nate shift in my direction; he grabs ahold of my hand, threading our fingers once again.
“You hate this part,” he murmurs, his mouth turned up a fraction as he rests his head back against the seat with his eyes closed.
“You remember.”
“I remember everything,” he says quietly. I look back up to find him staring at me, eyes so expressive they make me want to climb into his lap and kiss away the years that found themselves between us. I don’t even notice when the plane begins to gather speed, propelling us into the air at a velocity that has my stomach dropping.
Still, I don’t look away.
We reach the appropriate altitude and my stomach settles, the popping in my ears beginning to diminish. I still grasp onto Nate’s hand, so tightly you’d think the plane was falling out of the sky. He rests our hands in my lap, his thumb making circles on my thigh.
I feel safe.
I feel loved.
I don’t think I’m going to be able to say goodbye to him again.
Nate can sense my sudden anxiety and leans over. “You’re okay, baby. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, even twenty thousand feet in the air,” he promises. I know hebelievesthat, but losing my sisterisgoing to happen to me. It’s going to destroy me, destroy us. But I can’t lie to her anymore. I’m going to tell her that I’m still in love with her fiancé, and then I’m going to lose my best friend.
With that thought, I take a Benadryl and settle in my seat, prepared to sleep for the rest of this six-hour flight.
I joltawake for the second time today, a sudden drop in my stomach pulling me from my dreams. It feels like I just descended a roller coaster hill. I blink away my blurry eyes and try to focus. My head is resting against Nate’s chest, his arm around my shoulders cradling my back.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice thick with sleep.
