Chapter 19
“How was the flight, buddy?” Joseph asks, looking at me through the rearview.
“Fine.” I yawn, slamming the car door behind me as I slide into the backseat.
“Are you feeling okay? Are you sleeping well?” His brows knit with concern.
I know he’s just looking out for me. He was there for me back then, the one who urged me to take a step back from the spotlight and get help. And I’m glad I did. I don’t respond, and he doesn’t push, just driving us toward our first destination. I want to go home.
“Get some rest. It’ll be a while.”
I look out the window and watch the cars and buildings pass by. The late afternoon sun glares into the window, and my mind wanders. “Have you ever been in love?”
Joseph hesitates, taken aback by my sudden line of questioning. But he still humors me, “I think so. Yeah.”
“What does it feel like?” I keep my head turned out the window and keep my voice level. We don’t talk much about these things in detail. It’s probably my fault for keeping him at arm’s length all this time, but I wouldn’t mind letting him in now.
“Hmm.” He thinks about it genuinely. “For me, I knew I was in love when I wanted to be around the other person all the time. When I found myself missing them the second we left each other. Every little thing reminded me of them, and it would make me happy when I thought about our future together and sad when I thought about a future without them. But it’s different for everyone. ”
I take in every word and let it settle in my mind.
I ask myself if those things he said align with my feelings for Miles.
But I still hesitate to call what I feel ‘love,’ and it scares me.
If I hesitate this much, does that mean that I don’t actually love him?
That thought squeezes my chest, and I shove it away. I can’t accept that.
The mind is a lot easier to lie to than the body.
There’s a sickness that settles into my flesh as the days drag on.
My chest is hollow. The silence is deafening.
My thumb hovers over the ‘call’ button for the third night in a row.
My body yearns for his. My ears are starving for his voice, and my arms ache with the empty space where he should be—his body pressed against mine.
I’ve spent every quiet moment since trying to untangle the knot of my feelings, and with every passing second, the truth finally settles in.
I'm entirely, hopelessly sick with wanting him.
There’s a tremor in my hands as the jet pulls up to the bridge.
My heart pounds, and there’s a restlessness in my legs that I can only keep at bay by bouncing.
The aircraft begins to shrink around me, making the air challenging to breathe, and when they let me off this Godforsaken thing, I dash off without looking back.
I find myself stuck in a traffic-blocked cab.
I’m restless and contemplate my next move.
After shooting off a text to Joseph to ask him to grab my things from JFK, throw some cash on the seat of the cab, and apologize to the cabbie, I exit the vehicle.
At the rate the cars are moving, it would be quicker to run than to stay in that car.
My heart and lungs feel like they’re about to explode as I slow in front of the building.
I take a deep breath, wipe the sweat from my brow, and finagle my way inside, up the elevator, and straight to his door.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, leaving a tremor in my bones.
My muscles are tight and my movements stiff as I raise a hand to push the doorbell.
I hesitate. My mind races, frantic and loud, but I don’t run away this time.
I grip what's in my hands a little tighter and press my finger against the cold plastic and wait.
The sudden clack of the turning door handle rings through the quiet, and my heart leaps straight into my throat.