Chapter 12
TWELVE
Ethan
I’d never realized you could feel physically fucking sick from missing someone.
We’d been in the air for two hours, which meant I hadn’t seen Anna in three, but I still missed her. During our time in London we’d spent plenty of time apart when we were at work but it hadn’t felt like this. It hadn’t felt like I’d been sucker punched. In my gut. In my heart.
“I’ll have another whiskey. In fact, just keep them coming,” I said to the flight attendant.
I don’t know what she said in reply. I just kept my eyes on the screen in front of me and tuned her out.
I was watching Pretty Woman. Of course I was.
I was a walking fucking cliché. I’d become the chick who wallowed in post-break-up misery.
Except we hadn’t broken up. But it made me feel closer to her, knowing she’d watched it a million times and knew every line.
She’d laugh if I told her. And I liked making her laugh.
I had a mountain of prep for the meeting the next day but I couldn’t face it.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t care if I went into the meeting tomorrow hung-over and unprepared.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
Nothing except being with Anna. That was the goal and I was going to make it happen.
I nearly hadn’t made the flight, not wanting to leave.
We stood at security for what seemed like hours, until the last possible moment.
Our arms clamped around each other, we didn’t speak—we’d said all that we needed to say.
We just needed to be with each other. And she held on to me tight, as if it were the end or at least the beginning of complicated.