Chapter 44
44
Lucy
When I wake the next morning, Dexter’s gone. The side of the bed where he fell asleep is empty. And for a second, I think this is it. What we had last night, it was the best way we could’ve said goodbye to each other. And maybe that’s for the best. We had one last night together. One last amazing, life-altering night that’ll forever be engraved in me. And I should thank him. For taking me as I am instead of expecting more. But my heart feels too heavy for anything other than a kind of grief that can only come from an incomplete goodbye.
A draft blows the sheer curtains into the room where the sliding door to the balcony was left open, and when I look outside through the glass, I see Dexter. His bare back is facing me, and he’s sitting in one of the lounge chairs, looking out into the expansive view that includes the hotel grounds and the beach.
I rise from my spot in the bed, draping the sheet over my naked body, and step onto the carpeted floor. When I reach the glass door, sliding it open a little wider for me to walk through, I see Dexter shift his head to the side where I catch a glimpse of his handsome profile.
I saunter around him, meeting him at his front, and run my fingers through his hair. “Good morning,” I croak through my morning voice.
“Good morning.” He runs his hand along my covered hip and tugs at the loose sheet. I fall into his lap, my legs straddling his thighs, and the sheets drop. “I like waking up with you.”
I nod, pressing my naked chest to his bare one. “It is kind of nice, isn’t it?”
He nuzzles his face into my neck, and I love how he feels strong and soft at the same time with his arms wrapped around me. We don’t say anything for a few moments, letting the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach and the gulls squawking take up space while we enjoy the last hours of our day together.
“When’s your flight?” I ask, speaking softly into his hair.
“Three.”
“We don’t have much time.”
He shakes his head. “No, we don’t.”
Words stay held on our tongues, like we’re unsure of what to say next or what should be said. His fingers trail up and down my spine in slow, languorous strokes, and I continue raking my fingers through his hair. I hear people laugh and prattle on the ground floor, most likely early risers excited to get a head start on their vacation. More waves crashing, creating a steady rhythm that makes me relaxed and a little lazy. The cool breeze drifts around us, and we stay quiet and peaceful and completely serene.
Until Dexter finally speaks. “This feels like home.”
I smirk. “I think a lot of people would say that about a tropical island.”
I expect some retort from him, something along the lines of moving out here and living off coconuts and palm leaves, but he doesn’t. Instead, he shakes his head against my chin before pulling away .
“No,” he whispers, his eyes so serious it makes my heart flop. “I meant you. Us.”
My heart starts to race and I feel like it’s going to beat out of my chest, exposing how vulnerable and unguarded I am right now. And I don’t care. I don’t care that Dexter can see how much he means to me. Because I mean just as much to him. It just took a few leaps of faith to get us here.
“You feel like home.”
“Dexter.” My hands grip the side of his face and his slide up my body, tightening his arms around me. This is what love is. Completely unconditional, willing to do whatever, fight against any and all odds.
He grips my nape and forces me to look at him. “This is going to sound…irresponsible. And maybe I’m being a little selfish too…” He pauses, looking at me like his life depends on his next words. “I know we agreed we had last night. And it was wonderful, but…I want—it doesn’t have to end here,” he says through a hoarse voice. “We don’t have to end things because we’re going back to our separate lives.”
My eyes ping-pong between his, and they fill with so much. So many different thoughts and scenarios that make me want to agree with him. To free-fall. He’s asking for more. He’s telling me he wants more. To no longer make this temporary but indefinite.
“There’s no instruction manual. No how-to when it comes to long distance or whatever this would be between us, but we can figure it out together,” he continues.
“But how? I mean, you have your life back in New York. And with Janet?—”
“I know,” he interrupts, sounding so sure of himself. “And you have LA and this new job. But it’s okay. We’ll work through it, one day at a time. Please, just trust me. ”
My entire body stills. A huge part of me wants to say yes. Because maybe we can figure it out. One day at a time. “Are you sure? I mean, really. You’re really sure you want to do this?”
He cups my cheek, brushing his thumb against my skin. “I don’t think I have a choice, Lucy,” he says, his voice cracking when he says my name. “I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if we don’t give it a shot.”
I look at him, searching for a whisper of doubt or fear, thinking there must be some considering how much of his heart he’s allowing to be vulnerable. But I don’t find any. “You’re serious about this.”
He nods. “I am.”
And I free-fall. “Okay.”
His face lights up. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah. One day at a time.”
“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” Nat whines while she drags my suitcase behind her.
I smirk, hooking the strap to my tote bag over my shoulder. “You’re leaving for Kauai in the morning, and I have a home to get back to.”
Nat pouts and Hayden stands by her side with his arm draped over her shoulder. The white gold ring on his ring finger glints in the light, and Nat slips her fingers through his, her own ring sparkling in unison.
“I’ll call you when we’re back,” Nat says sadly, pulling me in for an embrace. “Maybe I can fly you out or we can visit you over Labor Day weekend. ”
“Yeah, that’ll be fun,” I tell her, squeezing her back. I pull away and reach for my suitcase from her. She reluctantly hands it over as if her keeping an iron grip on it would prevent me from leaving.
“It’s good both of your flights are at the same time,” Hayden comments, gesturing toward Dexter standing next to me with his own suitcase in his hand.
Dexter nods, his steps already leading to the cab waiting in front of the hotel. We mused over whether or not we should be sharing a cab, wondering if it may appear a little suspicious, but ended up not even caring. We even threw in a little fib saying we found out during the rehearsal our flights were leaving around the same time.
Our flights weren’t leaving at the same time. In fact, they were hours apart, but that didn’t stop us from wanting to leave the hotel at the same time. Anything so we could get a few extra hours alone before parting ways.
Carmen already left early in the morning, and I said my goodbyes to my parents up in the hotel room where they were packing too, their flight leaving later this evening.
“Text me when you get home,” Nat instructs. The attendant takes our luggage, helping the cab driver load everything into the trunk of the cab.
“I will.” She pulls me in for another short embrace before we both stubbornly part.
“We’ll see you back home?” Hayden asks Dexter.
Dexter nods. “When you guys get back,” he says. “We’ll catch up.”
Nat pulls Dexter in a quick embrace, and I change places and hug Hayden too, prolonging our farewells for as long as we can. I enter the back seat, with Dexter close behind. He closes the door, and we hear Hayden thump the top of the car. We continue our waves and sad smiles through the window until the cab curves down the road and Hayden and Nat disappear.
I turn to face Dexter, and we both smile.
“Do you wish you would have stayed a little longer?” he asks .
I shake my head. “I wanted to see you off at the airport anyway.”
He nods and lifts his arm for me to fit under it, letting a satisfying hum rumble through his chest.
We spend the cab ride to the airport with comfortable small talk. Like how much I’m going to cuddle Jeremy when I get home or the beautiful purple scarf he got for Janet from the gift shop. When the cab comes to a stop in front of the airport, we exit and check in. Once we’ve made it through the security check and walked to a part of the airport where foot traffic isn’t too heavy, we sit on a row of chairs in front of Dexter’s gate.
“I have some vacation hours saved up,” he announces, his fingers linked through mine. “I can try to take a day off for a long weekend and fly out to you.”
I smile at him with sad eyes. “That would be really nice.”
We stay quiet for a moment longer. An announcement sounds on the intercom, announcing a boarding call from Honolulu to New York City. Dexter looks down at his ticket, where his seat call is marked, and we both stand.
“Text me when you’re about to board. I might not get it until I land, but still, I’ll feel better knowing you did.”
“I will,” I agree.
He takes my hand in his, lifting it so he kisses my knuckles, and his arms wrap around my waist. I let out a small sob, and I bury my face into his shoulder.
“We’ll see each other soon,” he tells me, the same tightness in his voice as mine. “And I’ll call you every day. And we can FaceTime and text. There’re so many things we can do to still be a part of our everyday lives.”
“But I won’t get to touch you,” I cry. It’s then a lone tear slips down my cheek, and he swipes it with his thumb. “I won’t get to kiss you or come home to you. ”
“I know.”
Another sob slips through, and I feel so silly. So silly for crying over a goodbye like this, with someone who I’ve only really gotten to know over the past few months. Someone who I never thought I would have to say goodbye to in a drafty airport surrounded by hundreds of weary travelers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, ducking my head and wiping more tears. “I’m making such a scene, and it’s so embarrassing.”
“No,” he urges, gripping the sides of my face. “I told you, you’re my home. And this is…it’s killing me just the same.” He pauses to swallow a lump in his throat, and when he talks again, it’s raspy and weak. “But we’re going to figure it out, Lucy. We have to.”
When I finally look up at him, I realize he’s having as much difficulty saying goodbye as I am. He may be keeping his composure, assuring me with future visits and focusing on the silver lining of our separation, but all of that’s just on the surface.
I nod, a sad up and down motion of my head, and his hands stay cupped to my face. “You should go,” I say softly.
He looks up at the gate, where the line of people boarding has started to grow thick. “We’ll talk to each other soon.”
We part, our fingers refusing to let go of each other until we have no choice but to pull apart. I watch as he stands in line, taking occasional glances back at me, and then he disappears.