Chapter 28 Henri #3
“Fuck.” My vision swims with tears. As they fall, he kisses them away until I have no more left to shed. Only then does he pull me to his chest, the stiff fabric of his suit jacket rubbing against my cheek.
“I get to say this, because tonight you’re mine.
” He holds me tighter as if he’s scared I’ll run again.
“I love you. All of you. I am better because I got to know you. You might hate fate, but I have no other explanation for how we ended up in that cab together on Thanksgiving and everything that came after.”
I don’t—can’t—say it back, even though I know I feel the same way. But saying those words feel too much like goodbye. So I just rest there, listening to the heart of a man who loves me.
After a few long moments, we head back inside, but only because that’s the only way to the exit. We’re done being around other people tonight. Done sharing each other with the world.
With only a few hours left of solitude, we use them to our advantage.
He carries me into his bed and unwraps me like a present. Every touch lingers, every moment drawn out as far as we can take it. We know that this is it—the end that was always going to come.
We both stay up until midnight, breaths catching as one day rolls into the next.
Sleep comes uneasily and I wake to a flurry of blankets being kicked off the bed.
There’s no time for talking or holding a single moment in the palms of our hands because we’ve overslept by thirty minutes and have to rush to make my flight.
There’s a part of me that wants to say fuck it, let me reschedule, but that would only be drawing out the inevitable. The drive goes too fast and in what feels like a blink of an eye we’re pulling into the packed departures line.
“I could go to the garage and park, help you get your luggage in,” Liam offers with a hopeful gleam in his eye.
“It’s just one bag,” I remind him. “I don’t need help.”
“I know.”
He parks along the curb and helps me with my bag.
Then we just stand there, looking but not touching, both of us seeming to understand that one final kiss would ruin us.
But it doesn’t last as long as I wish it would because one of the airport attendants ushers him back into his car so another vehicle can unload.
I inch through security, barely holding it together, promising myself once I find my gate then I can duck into a bathroom and cry my guts out until my stomach is sore. It’s a slog, but I get to the packed seating area in one piece before looking back in the direction I came from for a bathroom.
When I look up, I see a man without a bag, running straight at me, brown hair sticking up haphazardly.
I don’t have a moment to collect my thoughts before he stops in front of me.
“You’re going to Albuquerque?” I ask, tilting my head to read the paper ticket in Liam’s hand.
“What?” His face scrunches, then he sees where I’m looking. “Oh, this? I just asked for the cheapest flight out. At the desk.”
“You bought that here? I didn’t know you could still do that.”
“Yes. I parked the damn car and got a ticket so I could get past security. Because, Henri, baby, fuck. I don’t want this to end. We can make it work. I want to make this work.”
“Please, Liam. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” My throat tightens and fuck I would really love to be locked in a bathroom stall right now so I can let the waterworks flow without people seeing my splotchy red face.
“I can’t let you go.” He swallows. “How is the ending so hard when I knew what it would be from the start?”
“Because the journey to get there was so damn good. Let’s not make this worse, though.
Let me get on the plane.” My hand clenches around the handle of my suitcase until my knuckles go white.
“In three years, when I graduate, I’ll come out here and look for jobs.
Because by then I’ll probably be sick and tired of New York.
Who wants to stay in one place that long anyway, right?
And maybe we’re just friends, or maybe we just pick up where we left off.
I don’t know because as much as I want to be able to, I can’t control that, and I have to trust that if the fates allow, this will all work out. ”
“You’re trusting the fates with this?”
“Just this one time, and they better know how damn important it is.” And then I kiss him one last time. Too brief. Too public. But I’ll need this final taste of him to get me through. “And don’t you dare say goodbye.”
He stays until I have to board the plane, and even then, I wait until all other passengers have gone.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my forehead pressed against his. “For giving me a Christmas that felt like mine, instead of someone else’s. I’ll never forget it.”
I end up drinking so much cheap wine that I’m cut off by the flight attendants within the first hour and then I fall asleep for the remaining hours only to wake up with a hangover when we land.
I all but crawl into the back of my Uber at LaGuardia. Tucked in the corner of the leather seats, I pull out my phone and call the only person I want to talk to, really hoping that she hasn’t gone to bed early.
“Hey, honey, we’re just about to be seated for dinner—we have a late reservation. Can I call you back?” Mom answers on the second ring.
“Mom,” I croak.
“Daniel, why don’t you go sit. I’ll meet you inside.” There’s a pause and then she says, “I’m right here. What do you need?”
“There’s this boy . . .” And finally, I cry.