Chapter 1
Nine Months Later
The deep set of his eyes as he pulls away isn’t from sadness or concern for me. He’s upset I’ve decided to go, and he knows this time he can’t fight me on it.
I know it’s strange, but I love the smell of the airport—the cool, filtered air with its faint metallic tang, laced with jet fuel and cleaning products. It makes me think of anywhere but home.
Home. I haven’t had one in what feels like forever, and now, more than ever, the absence aches; especially knowing where I’m heading.
“Sorry I can’t come,” Michael says as he places his hand onto my cheek. “They’ve wanted to up the force with all of the riots happening… You get it.”
Nodding, I force a smile. I never wanted him to come with me, but he playacted otherwise until yesterday. I’m sure he was hoping I’d beg him to come, but I’m perfectly capable of traveling, and more importantly, of being without him.
The edge of his lip curls, lifting his deep ebony cheek. His dark brown eyes search mine, and I can’t tell if he wants me to speak or stay silent. I’m not going to argue with him about coming, it’s for the best.
Alysa will be meeting me at the airport in Colorado, anyways. And she hates Michael.
His gaze shifts between mine, and our silence makes me increasingly uncomfortable. I don’t even register the announcements; it’s like my ears are plugged.
“I understand,” I finally say as several travelers begin to brush against us.
San Francisco International is one of the busiest airports in the United States, second to Newark. People have been bumping into us trying to get to the security line for the few minutes we’ve been standing here, but now they’re beginning to crowd us.
“When you get back, we can talk about us. Alright?”
I nod again. “Sure. I’ll call you once I land.”
“Just text me, I’m sure you’ll be tired.”
He leans in toward me just as I pretend to reach down for my bag. I’m grateful when he stops and steps back, though I’m sure he’ll comment on it later. I’m not in the mood for a public display of affection, and if I don’t reciprocate, it’ll spark a fight I want to avoid.
Plus, we aren’t together right now or anything. I’m not entirely sure why he would even attempt to kiss me.
“See ya later, babe.”
I shudder. “Bye, Mike.”
Security doesn’t take long, and I’m at my gate within twenty minutes of parting ways with my ex-boyfriend. Even if he wouldn’t call himself that, I do.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Sitting with my carry-on between my spread legs, I pull it out.
Lefty
Hey, have you boarded yet?
Boarding starts in thirty minutes.
I just got to the airport. I won’t make it in until tomorrow. Are you getting a rental?
No. I’m going to Uber to our hotel.
Red-eye?
Yeah. Upgraded to first class
I’m not a snob. My twin senses are tingling.
Ass
I wasn’t even thinking anything.
Whatever.
I don’t respond, because I can see the dots popping up. They come and go. Then she finally says:
I’ve missed you, Ayden.
A soft laugh falls from my lips.
It’s somber, and if it weren’t for what Alysa always says—“If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry”—I think I’d be crying right here in Terminal A, Gate 14.
You were the one that moved to London.
I’ve missed you too, sis.
I just wish it weren’t under these circumstances, but I’m glad I get to see you regardless.
Ten days ago, our dad, along with our stepmother, were killed in a head-on collision. They were driving back to their home in Colorado from Scottsdale, Arizona, when a wrong-way driver in a semi slammed into them.
Their deaths were instant; so said the officer that called and told me the news. To be honest, I’m surprised I remember the conversation as vividly as I do. I felt so numb the moment the words “They’re dead. I’m sorry for your loss” slipped through the phone and into my ears.
My elbow presses down hard on my right leg in an attempt to stop the bouncing it’s doing. An unconscious tick of mine.
I had to call Alysa and tell her, and after that, our mom.
She told me thanks, and said she’d send flowers to the funeral.
Bitter bitch. I’d done her the courtesy of calling, she could’ve done the same, and sounded even a little empathetic to us.
That just solidified the reason we were raised by our dad.
Leaning back, I type out my final text before shutting off my phone.
Love you, lefty. See you when you get in tomorrow.
Shutting my eyes, I listen for them calling the first-class passengers to prepare for boarding first. It mixes in with the soft echoes of conversation around me and the hum of children getting out their energy.
Dragging my hand up through my short hair, I groan.
I hadn’t seen my dad or stepmom since February, when I was finally starting to heal from the accident. If I’d told them sooner, I know they would have come to see me earlier… but I just couldn’t find the strength to bring it up.
They were the epitome of ideal parents. I may not have known Leilani my whole life, but it felt like it.
She filled the gap my alcoholic, biological mother made.
Loving both Alysa and myself like we were her kids.
It wasn’t hard to say yes when she asked to adopt us just a year after marrying our dad.
As for him, he was the best father figure we could have asked for.
I’ve definitely disappointed him at times, but he never showed it when we spoke or saw each other.
Now, he’ll probably watch me spiral from Heaven, and all the shame I’ve been hiding will be laid bare—bright as a blank canvas—for him to see.
Great.
I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling, just as boarding for group one is called.
It feels like my life is stuck in low gear, but the world around me just keeps moving at full speed. I’d love to blame it on the accident that nearly took my life, but it’s been this way for so long.
“Now boarding group two.”
I’m hoping that this trip heals me in some way.
“Now boarding group three.”
But knowing me, the moment I land, I’ll just do as I have done: smile and pretend that everything’s okay. It’s what everyone expects of me. Plus, I can’t show up like I’ve got all the problems in the world.
I’m going to a funeral, after all.
“Final boarding call.”
I stand up and walk to the attendee who smiles at me. There’s a hint of irritation in the small lines between her brows.
“Have a safe flight,” she says as she scans my boarding pass.
The soft thump of my carry-on is muffled quickly by the hum of the airplane. The scent of asphalt and jet fuel assaults my senses before I step onto the plane, and turn down the singular aisle.
It’s such a disassociating feeling. Time. I swear I’m too young to feel like this, at merely twenty-seven. As though I’m standing still while the clock rushes forward.
As I take my premium seat, 6A, with no one beside me because that seat was bought too, I prepare for takeoff.
He’d booked the flight, putting us at the bulkhead so that I could stretch out.
Although I’m not super tall, standing at six-foot exactly, it’s nice to be able to.
Since the accident, my left leg needs to be stretched or my hip locks up.
Physical therapy has helped tremendously, but there are just some things that haven’t fully healed.
Just like my damn heart.
Pathetic.
I look at the empty seat beside me where Michael would’ve sat. It’s void of a passenger as I hear the plane door close tight. I can hear his condescending voice. “Think of it this way, now you’ll have the full row to yourself. You’re welcome.”
Right. Thanks soooo much.
I take out my headphones, place them into my ears, open the window shade, and lean against the cabin wall. No music plays, but I turn on the noise-cancelling and listen to what I’d call a noisy quiet.
There’s still sound, but it’s muted, as if silence is trying to break through.
It’s quite poetic, really, even if that’s the last thing I am.
Maybe it’s more tragic.
I let out a sigh, one filled with contempt. I’ll get through this. I have to. I can’t be the twin who loses their mind—Alysa would never let me live it down.
The moment the plane begins to taxi backward, I take a deep breath.
See you soon, Dad. For the last time.