Page 58 of Brush Strokes

Walking away from her, even knowing I’ll be coming back as often as I can until this tour is over, gets harder with every step. Like gravity is holding me down more than usual. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve been in such a state of levity recentlythat everything feels heavier. It’s only been weeks, and already I’m addicted to her. Everything about her is perfection. Her kindness, her humor, her unbelievable talent that she’s way too humble about.

My eyes fill up, and I really hope she can’t see from where she is. I look forward as the line moves again, rolling my eyes up to prevent any tears from falling. It’ll just make things harder.

Holding back my tears would be easier if I’d gotten any sleep at all. She’d slept in my bed last night, which I squandered away. We’d made love until the early hours of the morning, only breaking apart because she insisted I needed to rest so I wouldn’t be too tired for my early-morning departure. Once her breaths evened out, I’d grabbed my laptop bag and sat up at the kitchen island, making notes on my calendar and sending an email to the travel director for World Travel Magazine to see if I can move some flights around. Normally I like to spend a few days to a week in each location so I can tour the area and enjoy all the experiences each new destination has to offer. For the first time in my life, I’m considering booking back-to-back flights so I can get it over with quicker.

And now I’m regretting not spending those hours with my arms wrapped around her.

My eyes flit from her to my best friend, standing with his arms wrapped around her from behind. He’s holding her tight, keeping her together like I asked him to. In some ways, it makes leaving easier, because I know she’ll be happy with Ezra. In other ways, it’s even harder, because the little family unit we’ve built over the last week has been perfection.

We have a plan to stay connected. It’s not perfect, because the time differences will change depending on where I am, and most of the places I’ll be visiting won’t have cellular service.I have a satellite internet device, but the connections can be slow, so we won’t always be able to video chat. But at the very least, we can email back and forth and stay in touch as often as possible.

Our group text has mostly been dirty texts and pictures, which I really hope doesn’t change. I told Ezra that I don’t want them to hold back. I don’t want them hiding the depth of their relationship or their feelings for each other, or worry that I’ll be jealous. I will absolutely be jealous, but only because I want to be here. I want to get to see every moment. I want selfies every hour, of the two of them working together at the gallery, doing mundane things like eating lunch or cleaning the house. And I most certainly want the date night selfies and all the dirty pictures of everything I’m missing. I want to be able to pretend I’m with them from across the world.

“Sir?”

My face snaps back forward. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts, not able to look away from the two of them, that I didn’t realize I’d made it to the front of the queue. A security guard gestures me toward a desk, where I’m asked to remove my shoes and put all of my items in a bin. The moment I’ve stepped through the metal detector, I’m turning back to search them out again. They’re both still standing there. Beth is craning her neck to see me, knowing that I’ll soon have to disappear behind a corner. It takes me far too long to put my shoes back on, and I get questioned by a security guard.

“Sorry,” I tell the stern-looking woman. “Not quite ready to leave.”

The guard looks toward where I’m staring, and her face softens. Beth blows me a kiss and waves, and I can see a tear glistening down her cheek.

“I’ve seen a lot of sad goodbyes,” she says. “But I’ve never seen that much obvious love in someone’s eyes. She’ll be waiting for you when you come back, I can tell.”

With a shaky smile, and those damn tears welling up behind my eyes again, I thank her and walk backwards until I have no other choice than to walk out of view. I don’t get fifteen paces down the hallway before I turn back, pushing through the passengers who are all headed toward their terminals like I should be. But I just need one more glimpse. I love her too much not to take one more look, to file a last glance away to keep me warm until the next time I can be with her.

All I have when I look around the corner again are regrets. Because they’re gone already, or at least they’re out of sight from where I’m standing. I can’t get back through the security area from this side without relinquishing my ticket and possibly being escorted off the premises.

So much regret. For having to leave. For not being man enough to tell her how I feel. I haven’t been able to say the words. It feels ridiculous to fall so head over heels in a matter of weeks. But I’m completely mad for her.

I’ve wanted to tell her, but with me leaving, it felt like poor timing. What if I pour my heart out to her and this doesn’t work? What if she doesn’t want to wait for me?

I told Ezra that I plan on putting roots down when I get back from this tour. The next time I travel, it’ll either be with them, or only very short trips. No more months or years away. My adventure is with them now.

Some security guards give me pitying looks. Others look annoyed, but I don’t give a damn.

Turning back into the hallway, I make my way to my terminal, arriving just in time to board. From my spot next to a window, always in the emergency aisle to accommodate for my size, I can see two familiar figures through the floor to ceiling windows of the airport lobby, standing wrapped in each other’s embrace as they look out over the tarmac. When the plane starts to roll toward the runway to take off, I see Beth turn around and press her face into Ezra’s chest. His hand comes up to caress the back of her head, and I bury my nose under my shirt. I’ve been using her body wash and lotion, so I close my eyes and imagine I’m breathing her in as the plane takes off.

“How is Argentina?”

“Other than our bus breaking down in the middle of the jungle, it’s been pretty decent,” I say through the phone.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” I say, chuckling. “It wasn’t so bad. Since I had the time to kill, I took a walk through the jungle and got some pretty cool shots.”

“Ooh, show me!” Beth says enthusiastically.

“They’re being loaded into the drive as we speak. The WIFIhere isn’t great, which is why we’re not on video right now.”

“Some are coming through. Ezra! Pictures!” she calls out. I can hear clanking around in the background, which probably means Ezra is getting ready to cook dinner. There’s only a two-hour time difference, which is convenient for once.

“Where are we today?” I hear him ask as Beth switches on the speakerphone.

“Iguazu Falls, Argentina,” I answer for her. “Hi Ez.”

“Hi Cal. Oh, look at that little guy. What kind of animal is that?” I’m not quite sure which picture they’re talking about until Beth mentions how cute it is and remarks about how many pictures there are of the very curious animal I came across today.

“That’s a South American coati. They’re related to racoons and are all over the place here. I met that little one before I even went on my little trek through the jungle.”

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