Chapter 18
Rose’s vanilla coconut scent clung to every fiber woven into the seats of my car, taunting me, reminding me it was no longer my right to it, but a privilege. I greedily inhaled, hoping not to look like some freak getting high from Rose’s essence and our memories.
The driver’s eyes connected with mine in the rearview, and I offered a smile and nod. We could have had anyone of Rose’s siblings or in-laws drive us, but I didn’t want to make it any worse than it was.
This drive to the airport was as uncomfortable as wet jeans in winter—cold, stiff, and making me question every life decision that led me here.
Add in a family member aware of the tension and trying to mask over the awkwardness with small talk, I would have jumped out the door on the highway.
This was bad, but it could have been worse.
Still, if I didn’t turn things around now, I would have an entire weekend of this unpleasant quiet, and that was something I could not accept.
“I embarrassed Ben,” I blurted as if I had a gun held to my head and I had to make a split-second decision on a conversation. It’s the only explanation for why I chose this line to break the silence.
Rose tucked a honey-brown strand behind her delicate ear, her eyebrow arching in confusion as her head slightly turned to me. “How’d you do that?”
“I sang Total Eclipse of the Heart outside his place. He thought my choice of song was embarrassing and told me to pick something cooler next time.”
“What is he talking about? Total Eclipse of the Heart is a classic.”
“That’s what I said,” I exclaimed with a little too much gusto. “The man has no musical taste. I think someone should warn your sister before she marries him.”
As soon as marries came out of my mouth, my entire body froze, just as the slight smile I had gotten out of Rose fell. Damn it. I fucked up without even trying. The day was still young; I had plenty of time to rack in the fuck-ups. I mentally created a tally board, adding a slash.
“I mean… it’s only right that she knows her boyfriend doesn’t know good music.”
“Yeah,” Rose said, her voice uninterested, and it was as if I lost her all over again. She angled toward the door, her cheek landing on her hand as she stared out the window.
I sank into the seat, the driver’s eye catching mine again, and even though he did not know the situation, I swore he was judging me. Those dark eyes said, “Good going, jackass.”
Not saying anything I didn’t already know, buddy.
An agonizing hour later, we arrived at the airport, checked in, went through security, and were finally sitting by our gate. Rose’s fingers drummed her thigh as her leg shook. She hated flying, though she loved to travel, so she fought through anxiety and panic to do it.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine. Great. Really.”
“You don’t have to lie to me. I know you’re secretly having a complete and total meltdown inside that head of yours.”
Her chin lifted as if she were willing the tension away, but her fingers kept drumming. The corner of her mouth twitched, the smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Is it that obvious?”
“I’m waiting for you to wear a hole in your pants with all the drumming.”
She glanced at her hand and rested it on her thigh. “Oh. Didn’t even realize I was doing that.”
“Here.” I took her hands and kneeled in front of her. Her eyebrow arched, but I just smiled. “Inhale as deeply as you can.” I inhaled with her. “Now, let it out as slowly as possible along with all those negative thoughts.”
“Do you really think this is going to work?” she asked, letting out her breath in the farthest way from slow.
“We won’t know if you don’t try it.”
She rolled her eyes but humored me. I exhaled with her, letting all the negative thoughts that had been simmering beneath the surface since last night rush out of me.
I’d barely slept, tossed and turned just like every night since she’d been in bed with me.
It felt wrong. I was all out of sorts and wanted her beside me where she belonged.
Then there was the whole doctor thing. She had hit me with quick replies then jumped on Michael as a way to shift the conversation.
Something was going on, and I was pissed she wouldn’t tell me. Maybe this weekend there will be a shift. She’d remember why she loved me. Remember why we were so good together. Realized that marriage was a meaningless vow, and we didn’t need it because we were perfect just as we had been.
We inhaled again and released it slow. Rose’s shoulders eased, and her fingers stopped their anxious drumming.
“Better?” I asked.
“A little. Still feel like I might throw up, but at least now I’ll do it with a more peaceful mindset.”
I laughed as I rose to sit beside her again. “That’s the spirit.”
She rested her head on my shoulder, and it was the tiniest victory in the overall war. “Thanks, Wy. You have this annoying ability to make things feel manageable.”
I wrapped my arm around her and held a little tighter than probably necessary, but damn it, I could feel her warmth, and it did something to my soul. “One of my many talents, Grasso. Right up there with remembering your ginger chews.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a new bag.
She gasped and snatched them from my hold. “You remembered.”
“And if you’re on the verge of a panic attack, I can jump up and dance like an idiot to distract you.”
She groaned. “That airport lounge in Denver will never be the same.”
“They should have thanked me. I gave them dinner and a show. Some of my best work, really.”
She laughed, a true real laugh, and the ache in my heart eased. “What would I do without you?”
“Keep your feet on the ground.” I nestled into my seat, shutting my eyes and pretending to relax. “How boring for you.”
She knocked shoulders with me, then settled in her seat as well. For me, without her, color would always be a little dimmer, the air a bit suffocating, simple joys not so simple, and the big joys not as exciting.
We stayed in our own silence while the world around us rushed on with life.
A little boy threw his backpack on the ground and refused to walk. The dad scooped him into his arms and ran off with him, the child’s screams of disapproval floating in their wake. An elderly woman sat in a wheelchair, watching with a smile on her face. Rose sighed, her head on my shoulder.
“I love airports,” Rose said.
Surprise slammed into me; and I blinked at her, waiting for the smirk that would tell me she was kidding, but it didn’t come. “You do?” Here I thought I knew everything about her. Every little like and dislike, but this. This was news to me.
“Not the flying part, of course. Hate that with a passion. But the people. The little stories playing out all around us. Things I miss when I’m buried in my phone.
The kid’s meltdown… you know that dad’s probably already sweating through his shirt and over the trip before they even leave.
The old woman smiling because she’s seen it all before.
Everyone’s going somewhere, leaving something, chasing something… ”
She paused, and hope flooded through me. Maybe she’d add “returning home.” But she never did. Instead, she shifted, her head leaving my shoulder, a hand brushing down her shirt as if she’d just realized how close we were.
“I should probably use the bathroom before boarding,” she said, already halfway out of her chair.
“You want me to go with you?”
“To the bathroom?”
“I meant walk you to the bathroom, silly.”
Her lips curved, and that spark that always undid me flickered in her eyes. “I think I can manage.”
“Okay then. I’ll be here. Waiting. Just don’t be surprised if you come back and find me in a dance-off with some unsuspecting person.”
She laughed again, that real laugh, and I savored the sound.
“I’ll make sure to pretend I don’t know you,” she joked.
I grabbed my chest and slid off my seat onto the floor. She walked away laughing, and everything around me faded as I watched her disappear into the crowd.
I climbed into my chair, arms crossed, a dopey smile still on my face.
Movement caught my eye, and I turned toward that same dad barreling toward where he had originally been with his kid.
Panic marred his face, but when he spotted a stuffed dinosaur, he sighed and snatched it up.
Relief flooded his features. He spun, then halted as the elderly lady touched his arm.
“You’re doing a good job,” she said.
The dad blinked at her, looking completely off guard. “I don’t feel like it,” he admitted with a self-deprecating smirk.
She patted his hand. “None of us do. But you showed up, doing your best. That’s more than enough on most days.”
He stood there for a moment as if he didn’t know what to say. Then he nodded, whispered a quiet “Thank you,” and jogged off.
The old woman settled her blanket over her knees like nothing had happened. Like she didn’t just hand that man a life raft in the middle of a damn airport terminal.
Maybe I’d never feel ready. Maybe the timing would never feel perfect. But the old woman was right.
Sometimes showing up was enough. I hoped it would be enough for Rose.