Page 103 of Let It Snow
My stomach tightens.
I want to be part of his family… so much. To have him close. Lake is truly amazing, and I genuinely wish him all the best.
And Snow too…
I spend the entire drive to the airport mostly crying. Why do I hurt myself so much? Why do I torture myself with this decision? Every mile that puts more distance between me and Snow feels like a metal wire stretching tighter inside me.
But still something nags at me.
Why was I able to speak so easily?
The pain has gone. My mutism has evaporated like a dense fog. During my talk with Lake I didn’t feel a single stab of pain or that choking pressure in my throat that used to grip me. It’s as if I’ve been healed.
On top of that, my mind feels completely clear. I remember everything.
The amnesia has finally lifted.
How did this happen?
Did Snow keep his word when he said he could heal what was wrong with me but would have to go deeper?
Well, he went deep enough, and he kept his promise.
I’m free. I’m healed.
My mind belongs to me now, under my full control. Nothing is hidden in the haze anymore.
Was this his farewell gift to me? Restoring my memory?
The thought makes me sob even harder. The Uber driver keeps glancing at me in the mirror, clearly debating with himself, until he finally speaks.
"It’ll get better, you’ll see. After every storm, the sun comes out."
It strikes me as funny that he’s using a sun metaphor too, just like Moon did when he told me I should follow the sun.
We finally reach the airport. The driver pulls up to the main entrance, and I get out without a word.
I’ve never been one for small talk with cab drivers. But the line about the sun coming out after the storm stays with me. Maybe because I desperately want to believe it?
I step into the terminal. Crowds always make me feel a little lost. After wandering for a while, matching the signs with the info on my ticket, I finally find the gate where check-in will happen. I still have about three hours to wait, so I sit down in the waiting area and curl up in the chair.
I feel awful, weak, the heat recovery is in full swing. I should not be wandering around airports, but curled up in my nest…
I constantly want to cry, but I force myself not to, to avoid drawing attention. To distract myself, I head to a small airport restaurant and order something absurdly expensive. Despite the price, it tastes like standard airplane food.
After eating, the waiting continues. I stare blankly at the clock.
I drift off sometimes, watching people pass by and making up stories in my head about why they’re traveling. Airports never sleep. Even at night, they’re alive with arrivals, departures, hurried steps, rolling suitcases, chatter, open brochures, phones, tablets, and flashing boards.
Beyond the giant glass window, planes take off and land in a constant rhythm.
For a moment I focus on one coming in for a landing, then turn away because it feels like someone’s watching me.
My eyes land on a young omega with striking silver hair tied in a high bun, wearing a loose cashmere blazer and soft trousers.
It takes me three seconds to realize who he is.
It’s like my brain resets, reality glitches.
