June Again
Brian
Airports aren’t built for stillness.
Everything about them is movement. Noise. People rush past me with half-zipped bags, voices overlapping in accents I don’t recognise. There’s a steady drag of suitcase wheels rattling across the floor. Activity all around me.
And yet, I am perfectly still.
I’m so far past pacing at this point. Too anxious to do anything other than stare at the arrivals board again, where her flight has changed to landed.
Any minute now she’s going to walk through the doors, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. Do I run to her? Hug her? Kiss her?
I know what I want to do.
Every instinct I have tells me to pull her into my arms and never let her go again. Handcuff her to me so she can never leave my side.
But I’m not sure what kind of impression that leaves.
I look back to the doors as they slide open again and a new wave of people spill out. Tired mothers corralling their children, businessmen already glued to their phones, couples who spot each other across the room and run to one another with smiles that threaten to split their faces.
Everyone moves with certainty, knowing exactly where they’re supposed to be.
I don’t.
I’m just here. Waiting.
Every time those doors open, my attention snaps to them before I can stop it. A flicker of hope ignites in my chest only to extinguish far too quickly.
Not her.
Not her.
Still not fucking her.
She’s not coming.
I drag a hand over my mouth, exhaling slowly. Of course she’s coming. She wouldn’t do this to me again.
Would she?
God, don’t fucking dwell on that thought. I’m not sure I can forgive her a second time. I glance back up at the board, as if it’s going to tell me something new.
Landed.
Still landed.
I check the time and do the maths in my head even though I’ve done it a dozen times already. Taxiing, disembarking, passport control. Baggage claim. A minute to get her bearings.
She’s coming.
God, I hope she’s coming.
Another set of doors slide open and I straighten naturally. My gaze flicks over every face that walks through. Searching. Scanning.
Not fucking her.
My shoulders sag as dread turns my blood to ice. This is torture. Forget teeth pulling or thumb screws. If you wanna fuck with someone, have them reunite with the woman they love after that woman abandoned them.
I’ve spent weeks psyching myself up for this. Wrestling with myself, convincing myself I was ready. I was so sure I could play it cool, take it slow, give us the space to fall in love all over again.
And now I’m stood here, counting the seconds between the automatic doors opening.
Get a grip.
What good am I to anyone if I’m a nervous, bumbling wreck? How do we move forward if I’m so fixated on her repeating her mistakes?
She’s not going to do this to me again.
She’s…
The door opens again. And this time…
I don’t hear the announcements anymore or register the movement around me. I can’t hear the noise or recognise the rush of people coming and going. It all fades into the background like someone has turned the volume down on the world.
Because she’s there.
She’s a few steps back from the crowd, one hand curled tight around the handle of her suitcase, the other clutching her phone. Her eyes flick across the room, searching. A little uncertain. A little overwhelmed.
And then they land on me.
Fuck.
She’s here. She’s actually here.
All of a sudden, all the shit I’d been telling myself doesn’t matter. Take it slow? Yeah, right. Play it cool? As if I could. Don’t fuck it up?
God.
I’m moving before I even realise I’ve made the decision, my feet carrying me towards her. She abandons her suitcase as she senses my intent, barely taking two steps before I’ve pulled her into my arms.
My lips crash into hers, my hand curling in her hair. I’m relieved when she kisses me back, my heart threatening to beat right out of my chest as she clings to me with a desperation I didn’t expect.
Fuck, she feels good.
“How was your flight?” I murmur against her lips.
“It’s got nothing on this moment,” she whispers back, sinking into another kiss.
I lose myself in her, forgetting everything else but the feel of her against me.
And for the first time, Detroit feels like home.
2 Jun | From: Jesy Mason | To: Isla Lawson
Subject: Detroit
City is beautiful. Apartment is beautiful. Brian is beautiful. Life is beautiful.
2 Jun | From: Isla Lawson | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Detroit
You got laid, didn’t you?
2 Jun | From: Jesy Mason | To: Isla Lawson
Subject: RE: Detroit
A lady never kisses and tells.
2 Jun | From: Isla Lawson | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Detroit
Good job you’re not a lady then.
Spill it, Mason.
2 Jun | From: Jesy Mason | To: Isla Lawson
Subject: RE: Detroit
Okay, okay.
If you must know…
He dragged me into a bathroom in the airport and fucked me while I bent over the sink.
2 Jun | From: Isla Lawson | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Detroit
Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
2 Jun | From: Jesy Mason | To: Isla Lawson
Subject: RE: Detroit
Oh, okay.
If you insist.
2 Jun | From: Isla Lawson | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Detroit
Jesy Mason, behave yourself! Did you actually?! God, I always knew you were a bit freaky but the bathroom of a busy airport?
2 Jun | From: Jesy Mason | To: Isla Lawson
Subject: RE: Detroit
How many times did you fuck Ewan in your office while the rest of us were hard at work?
2 Jun | From: Isla Lawson | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Detroit
… Fair point well made.
Well? How are you feeling? What’s going on? Are you together now?
2 Jun | From: Jesy Mason | To: Isla Lawson
Subject: RE: Detroit
Oh, please. As if I’ve addressed any of that. We went straight from the airport to his apartment and that’s where we’ve been for the past… fourteen hours or so? He’s dead asleep but I’m so wired I’m just pacing around the apartment.
It all feels very surreal and very familiar. And I’m worried I’m going to do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing and he’ll put me on a flight back home and will finally be done with me.
2 Jun | From: Isla Lawson | To: Jesy Mason
Subject: RE: Detroit
Well, look at you working yourself up into a panic.
Chill out, Jes. You’re clearly nuts for each other and as long as you can be patient and open to hearing what the other has to say, you’ll be fine.
2 Jun | From: Jesy Mason | To: Isla Lawson
Subject: RE: Detroit
Thank you, oh wise woman.
I gotta go. Sleeping Beauty is awake and I got a crazy man to meet. (Remind me to tell you about Justin.)
3 Jun | From: Brian Trainer | To: Darrell Griffin
Subject: She’s here.
She arrived safe. Everything is in place. Life is pretty great.
3 Jun | From: Darrell Griffin | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: She’s here.
Uhuh.
You fucked, right?
3 Jun | From: Brian Trainer | To: Darrell Griffin
Subject: RE: She’s here.
That is a very personal question, Darrell. I’m surprised at you. And that you’d think I’d rush into bed with her after everything that happened.
3 Jun | From: Darrell Griffin | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: She’s here.
Uhuh.
Only, it’s odd that you’re reaching out now, as opposed to when she arrived on the first. I’m sure there’s a perfectly justifiable reason other than you being locked up together and shagging like newlyweds.
So maybe you didn’t rush into bed. So where did you fuck?
3 Jun | From: Brian Trainer | To: Darrell Griffin
Subject: RE: She’s here.
…. Airport bathroom.
3 Jun | From: Darrell Griffin | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: She’s here.
Nasty.
3 Jun | From: Brian Trainer | To: Darrell Griffin
Subject: RE: She’s here.
Oh, shut up. Didn’t you and Alana fuck in the backseat of the cinema when you were dating?
3 Jun | From: Darrell Griffin | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: She’s here.
Ha. You got me there.
Are you good though? No regrets?
3 Jun | From: Brian Trainer | To: Darrell Griffin
Subject: RE: She’s here.
Absolutely no regrets, mate. I’m so happy to have her back, even if she’s still running on UK time. Honestly, I already don’t want her to go back home. It feels like we picked up right where we left off.
There’s so much laughter. So much fun. Even the prospect of going to the office tomorrow doesn’t feel like as much of a chore anymore.
I know we can’t just slap a band-aid over everything that went wrong, we are going to have to talk about it. But I’ve forgiven her. Life’s too dull without her.
3 Jun | From: Darrell Griffin | To: Brian Trainer
Subject: RE: She’s here.
I’m happy for you.
My only piece of advice… let yourselves date rather than rushing into a relationship. You’re right. There’s still healing that needs to happen. Don’t let your happiness now overshadow the sadness you felt then.
3 Jun | From: Brian Trainer | To: Darrell Griffin
Subject: RE: She’s here.
Appreciate the advice, Yoda. I’m gonna shoot. Sleeping Beauty has arisen from her slumber.
See ya!
Brian
I close my laptop with a soft click, looking over my shoulder as Jesy stirs, her hair fanned across my pillow. I should have woken her earlier so she could acclimate to the time difference, but she looked so peaceful, so beautiful, I didn’t have it in me.
Darrell’s words linger, replaying in my head. Let yourself date. Don’t rush. I know he’s right. And if the girl wasn’t in my bed, it might be easier to follow. But having her here is, admittedly, clouding my judgement.
I can’t help it, though.
She makes everything better. More tangible. Sunlight spills in through the tall windows, catching on the edges of things I’ve never noticed before. But with her here, I feel like I’m seeing everything through new eyes.
I head to the kitchen on autopilot, grabbing two mugs and filling the kettle. But even that throws everything into sharp focus. How domesticated the action is. How much I love to take care of her in this way.
And yet there’s still part of me that doesn’t quite trust her. The part of me that expects to walk back into the bedroom and find it empty. Like Blackpool all over again.