Page 4 of The Caress

O-kay.

I can do this. Ican. I’m not going to pretend like I won’t miss Keir, but this breakup is probably the best thing for both of us if I’m being completely honest.

He isn’t ready to commit, and I’m not willing to keep waiting and pretending. not even for Isla, sweet little thing that she is.

God, I’m really going to miss her.

She isn’t going to understand why I had to leave so suddenly, and I don’t know how Keir is going to explain it in a way that will put her mind at ease. Maybe he’ll let me talk to her after a week or two, once things have settled down.

Or maybe she’ll understand better than I think. It won’t be a problem at all. Her maturity and ability to grasp complex adult issues have already surprised and amazed me more times than I can count. This might just be another one of those times.

"We're getting close to the airport," the driver calls back over his shoulder, then meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. "Do you need me to make any other stops, or do you want me to just drop you off at the terminal?"

I’ve been so caught up in my emotions that I haven’t even been paying attention to how fast he’s been driving or how quickly the city has given way to the suburbs.

"Just take me to the terminal, please," I say, praying I can get myself together before we get there.

It’s best that I’m getting all these emotions out now, here in the car, where nobody else can see me. But I won’t have this extra layer of protection once we get to the airport. I won’t have my own personal driver who will go above and beyond to shield me from curious onlookers and intrusive paparazzi.

For the first time in a long time, I’ll be completely alone. And as freeing as I know it’s going to be, it’s also more than a little terrifying.

I close my eyes and can hear my dad’s voice from what feels like a million years ago, when it became clear to me and my family that I really had a shot at being accepted into the New York Ballet.

"You’re special, Ella.Your talent and abilities are going to open a lot of doors for you, but there will always be haters and people who don’t understand. Those people will try to put obstacles in your path. It's up to you to find ways to overcome those obstacles and thrive."

I remember crying then, too. The prospect of facing my fears alone felt overwhelming, just like it does now. My dad might not have won any awards for parent of the year. God knows he’s been putting me through hell lately, but the advice he gave me back then has helped me make it this far. I have to trust it’ll help me just as much going forward.

"You’re the cream of the crop," he’d say. "You’re the best of the best. You also happen to be a young black woman who will be in the public eye. People will be watching every move you make, waiting for you to make a mistake. Some of them will even be hoping you buckle under the pressure so they can cheer at your downfall. You have to be stronger than that. You can’t ever let them see you sweat. They can’t ever know the emotional toll it takes to be perfect all the time.

I inhale as deeply as I can and hold the breath in, just like he taught me. In my mind, I picture all my stress and all my worries forming into a ball that sits right in the middle of my chest, right inside my lungs.

Slowly, gently, I exhale. As the air leaves my body, it carries all the stress and worries with it. Starting with my head and shoulders, then moving down to my arms and legs before finally reaching my fingers and toes, I’m forcing myself to relax. to calm down. Tobreathe.

By the time we pull up in front of the airport terminal, I’ve almost convinced myself that I feel good about getting on a plane and leaving Scotland behind.

Leaving Keir behind.

"Here we are," the driver announces. "I’ll just grab your bag, and you’ll be on your way."

"Thank you," I say, getting out of the car and following him around to the back, then taking my suitcase and one more deep breath before turning toward the terminal.

The days of being driven out onto the tarmac to a private jet are long gone. Instead, I have to cross three lanes of stop-and-go traffic just to make it to the building where I can check in for my flight.

With a wave, the driver climbs back into the car and drives away, leaving me truly alone and on my own for the first time in months.

"Okay," I say out loud to myself. "Now it’s time to be strong."

I take a step off the curb and immediately have to jump back as a motorcycle speeds past. If not for the last-second sound of his engine revving, I wouldn’t have seen him at all until it was too late.

"What the hell?" I call out after him as he turns to look back at me over his shoulder. "You almost hit me!"

He’s wearing black clothes and a black helmet, making it impossible to see his face or any other details. Still, it’s hard not to feel a little frightened as I imagine him glaring at me from behind his tinted visor.

So much for remaining calm and collected at the airport.

The guy on the motorcycle slows down and makes a quick U-turn in the middle of the lane, nearly hitting the car driving next to him in the process.

I freeze as he revs his engine again.

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