Caroline
If anyone pays too much attention to me, they’ll think I’m a criminal.
I’m jittery, my legs are bouncing, and I’m biting on my fingernails.
I’m either a terrible criminal, or extremely high on drugs.
The good thing is, no one is paying me any attention as we all wait for our plane to start boarding.
My palms are sweaty and it’s a good thing I’m wearing black leggings and a light, black hoodie, so when I wipe my sweat off on my clothes, they won’t be dirty.
Funny, how life can change in one day if you’re determined enough. Yesterday morning, I was stabbing my fiancé and sitting in the police captain’s office. Today, I’m sitting in an airport because I’m running away to New York.
After the gala last night, I headed home with my parents. I showered and changed into my pajamas and then I laid in bed, wide awake and trying to memorize my bedroom ceiling.
I tried to imagine what my life would be like if I did what was expected of me, like I always did.
I could turn a blind eye to Beckett’s affair.
It would make our parents happy and our mothers would get the wedding of their dreams. My mother will finally get to see me in the dress she’s painstakingly designed with the designer and approved every stitch of.
I imagined the wedding, the marriage, the kids. Living in a house with a husband I knew could never love me or be loyal to me. For the rest of my life, I’d have a time-share for my own husband, knowing that when he left the house, he was free to do anything he wanted with anyone he wanted.
If I stayed and went through with it all, didn’t that mean I was choosing my own misery? Sitting up, I got out of bed and walked to my dresser. Opening the top drawer, I pulled out the small metal jewelry box which housed the key to the apartment Geraldine had gifted me.
Darling, if you hold onto broken glass because it’s what someone expects, you’re only hurting yourself.
Come with me, Caroline.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the timber of his voice. The sound of his voice has faded from my memory and no matter how hard I try, I can’t recall it exactly. It’s been five years since I last heard it. My fist closed over the key, the teeth pressing into the soft skin of my palm.
I can kill every part of myself and stay here for their happiness.
Or, for once in my life, I can do something for myself.
I snuck out of my room into the quiet hallway and down to my father’s office.
The house was eerily quiet, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I expected someone to wake up and ask me what the hell I was doing sneaking around my own house like a thief.
But it was the middle of the night and everyone was asleep.
I unlocked the family safe and took out my passport.
I might be going to New York, but I wasn’t going to leave my passport here.
Picking up a pen from my father’s desk, I quickly scrawled out a note telling them that I couldn’t marry Beckett and I was leaving.
I removed my ring and set it on top of the note.
Fear made my palms clammy so the ring slipped off easily. It felt heavy in my hand, like the weight of all their expectations. I set it down on top of the note and stood up from the chair.
Rushing out of the room, I threw clothes into a suitcase, stuffed all my essentials, and left.
I’ve been sitting at the airport for the last four hours, waiting to catch my flight.
The sky’s just starting to lighten and by the time my family wakes up and realizes I’m gone, I’ll be halfway to New York.
But I can’t let go of this anxious feeling that any minute now I’m going to wake up in my own bed and this will all be a dream.
Until now, I’ve only dreamed of running away.
I don’t know what it looks like to do something without seeking my parent’s approval first. Without thinking how it will affect them.
There’s still time for me to change my mind.
I can go back and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.
And that’s the crux of the problem. For my family and the Yorks, nothing happened.
All they expect me to be is a cardboard cutout that looks pretty in pictures and that they can pull out and parade around when the need suits them.
Pulling out my phone, I scroll to my brother’s contact information. I wonder if he’ll understand my decision to leave. If he’ll respect it. I think better of it and put my phone back in my purse. There’s a reason why he’s the perfect child and I’m a pale impression.
I wait until the last boarding call, giving myself the time to change my mind. But there’s no going back. Not now. And maybe the universe agrees with me because as I take my window seat in first class, a gorgeous man sits down next to me.
He’s wearing glasses, hair disheveled, and the smile he shoots in my direction makes my stomach swoop.
I’d be remiss to mention that I don’t have a lot of experience with men.
I had exactly one boyfriend before Beckett, someone I thought my parents would approve of, and they did.
Now that I think about it, when he dumped me, my parents thought it was my fault and that I’d surely made some mistake.
I give my seat companion a smile that I hope seems normal, though I can feel how tremulous it is.
“Nervous flyer?” He asks, once he sits down.
God, even his voice is perfect. It’s deep and rich, and like an utter fool, I can imagine this turning into something more.
What if he’s the one I’m meant to be with?
What if I was always meant to take this flight just so I could meet him?
If he’s from San Francisco, could it mean we’ve almost crossed each other’s paths, like ships passing in the night?
Belatedly, I realize he’s looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer. My cheeks heat and I look away, clearing my throat.
“Um, not usually, no,” I reply.
“Well, let me know if you feel like puking or something. These are new shoes,” he says.
And just like that, my crush evaporates. Apparently, I am surrounded by Becketts. Beautiful on the outside, rotten on the inside.
“Don’t worry, if I feel like puking, I’ll aim for your lap rather than your shoes,” I say with a sweet smile.
I watch horror dawn on his face as I put on my noise cancelling headphones and turn on my audiobook. It’s going to be a very long flight.
Somehow, I manage to fall asleep as soon as the plane takes off and I don’t wake up until the flight attendant shakes me awake because we’re about to land.
I straighten in my seat and rub a hand over my face, surreptitiously wiping away any drool. There’s no time to go to the bathroom.
I look out the window as the plane lands at La Guardia, almost like it’s going to descend into the water. There’s no going back now.
“Welcome to New York,” my seat partner says.
I throw him a look. “And I didn’t even get to throw up on your pants.”
He looks shocked and I feel a fissure of horror at my own words. I’m not the person who talks back, not even to strangers.
I open my mouth to offer an apology when the man grins and laughs, shaking his head.
“If I’d known you had such a sharp tongue, I wouldn’t have been such an ass,” he says.
His words make me cringe. “I feel sorry for any person who dates you, unless they’re exactly like you, in which case good luck to you both.”
His face twists and I already know he’s about to say something pejorative so I put my headphones on and turn up the music.
I turn on my phone as soon as we land, my heart sinking to my stomach when I see missed calls from my parents, my brother, Beckett, the wedding planner. There are messages as well.
I scroll through them as we get off the plane.
Beckett
Where the fuck are you?
You’re not going to survive a day in the real world. Get your ass back home right now and I’m willing to forgive this.
Get back here now!!
You’re not going to do this to me!
I stare at my phone in disgust. He’s willing to forgive me? That’s rich coming from a man who’s been cheating on his fiancé for the entirety of our relationship.
My brother, Carter, has also left a message.
Carter
Where the fuck are you?
I can’t decide if he’s actually worried about me or the clients. I ignore the rest of the messages and head into the bathroom to freshen up before going to get the rest of my luggage. As I’m waiting at the carousel, I take the chance to call Gerry. At least someone should know where I am.
“Hello, darling,” she answers on the second ring.
“Is that her?” Someone asks in the background. I think it’s Beckett and my palms turn cold thinking I’ll have to speak to him.
“Beckett, control yourself,” Gerry snaps, her voice muffled. “You’re emotionally overwrought and it’s off putting. If you have to be so emotional, please leave and let me speak with Alice in peace.”
Alice is Geraldine’s oldest friend. Those two have been in cahoots since they were little girls living next to each other.
“How are you dear?” Gerry’s voice rings clear.
“I’m fine. I’m in New York,” I say.
“Oh, that’s wonderful news! I’m sure this trip is exactly what you’re needing.”
“I hope so.” I chew on my lip. “Is it really bad there?”
“It’s absolute chaos,” Gerry admits, laughing lightly. “I’m not too worried about it.”
I feel a pang of guilt at her words. Chaos is never something I’ve wanted. I wanted to live a peaceful life even though I knew I was never going to be enough for my parents. The only thing I’ve ever gotten from my family is expectations and patronization.
“What if someone calls Alice to check if I’m with her?” I ask. My luggage does its second round of the carousel, but I want to finish my conversation with Gerry.
“Darling, you know me better than that,” Gerry says. “I’ve made things perfectly clear with her. There’s nothing to worry about.”
I take a deep breath. “I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
“Sometimes the risk is worth it. There’s no age for adventure and if not now, then when?”