39. Mia
The departure lounge was empty, save for a small family on their way home on the same flight. Hopefully we weren’t in the same vicinity because I couldn’t take hearing a baby scream on the plane for all of those hours.
Millie sat on the hard plastic chair, stabbing furiously away on her phone. She had been quiet since we left the clubhouse this morning, determined to go home but she still looked around at the crowd who came by to wish us farewell for a familiar face.
I couldn’t blame her when I did the same.
Rex left yesterday after our interlude and never came back. I’d lain awake in a cold bed, hoping he’d return so I could see him one last time… but he never did.
I’d finally drifted off to sleep in the early hours, my alarm blaring too soon. Rex hadn’t been back at all and wandering around the compound showed his bike still missing.
Sly had offered a tight smile in apology, telling me he’d see me soon and not to worry about Rex. But he never even showed up to say goodbye, his only parting message was the code to the lockbox and wet underwear.
This morning had come too swiftly, my bags packed and Link waiting outside with a brand new truck to ferry us to the airport. With Millie’s current mental state and Rex’s furious goodbye, I’d booked the first available flight for us which happened to be the next day. With a click of a button, I’d booked our journey home. I thought I’d feel relief that I was finally leaving, it was what I’d pushed for so long, but there was an ache in my chest that wouldn’t leave no matter how much I tried to rub it away.
Collapsing into the seat beside Millie, I tried to drag my attention to anything else that wasn’t the man I was about to leave and travel thousands of miles away from.
The strange couple sat beside each other, their baby at the stage where she could finally hold her head up, brief smiles flashing up at her parents who clearly adored her. His arm was around his wife, leaning over her and making faces at his young daughter. She watched him with reverence, love lighting her face as her family sat safely in her embrace.
A wash of envy was bitter on my tongue, a picture of familial love that was out of my reach.
Millie sniffed and swiped a tear away angrily, she dropped her head forward, her brown hair falling forward and hiding her sadness. “This is what you wanted, Mills,” I muttered. “You wanted to go home.”
She flung her hands in the air. “I know ok, I want to go home. I’m not ready for this… this stuff.” Shoving her phone in her bag, she threw herself out of the chair, stalking toward a vending machine and staring into the glass forlornly, her reflection in the glass was of complete sorrow.
She hid behind her hair as if it was a shield, armor against the realities of the world. Even now, she ran away from the life she had started to build here—the flower shop, her friends. Life had thrown her a curve ball lately, with Margot’s murder and the very real problem with the Sinners and wherever the hell Mickey had got to. But now, with the deal going through with the Ukrainians, they were far safer than they’d ever been. The Street Kings had the backing of a man with a whole host of resources, that meant Millie could have gone back to the shop, re-opened and ran it. She knew the business inside out and it’s something she loved.
But she chose to run away. Go home to her parents who would provide her with anything she asked, she never had to lift a finger.
The tinney voice over the speaker called our flight, and I grabbed my bag, hoisting it over my shoulder, ready to get this over with.
With one last look at the family, busy strapping their baby into a harness on Dad’s chest, I walked away, refusing to look again at the life that I couldn’t have.