Chapter Twenty-Six ~ Fiona
Arriving at Pearson feels much different today than it did two months ago.
For starters, I was so lost in a grief fog, I barely remember that day in March.
I have almost no recollection of the flight itself, I just remember sensations: the heaviness in my chest, the lump in my throat, and a sick feeling of dread in my gut.
Today it feels almost like coming home. I’m not entirely sure if Honeywell Hollow will ever be my permanent home, but a piece of my heart is there, the same way a piece is in London, with another in Ardmore, and another in Edinburgh.
Over the last three weeks, I’ve realized where the biggest piece lies, though, and it’s not in a place. It’s in a person.
Despite the heaviness and regret I experienced over leaving Nathan, I feel lighter now that Mila and I are officially free from On the Go Travels.
It all went much smoother than either of us anticipated.
Thanks to intel from Deirdre in Sanjay’s office, we were able to ambush him the day after he returned to London.
He was so fed up with our attempts to track him down, he told us he’d give us whatever we wanted.
He accepted our resignations, which saved us from having to arrange a meeting with our bosses, and told us he’d contact the company lawyers about dissolving the non-compete clause.
He’d been cold and dismissive, and yet, he’d stopped us as we were leaving his office, and told us that despite his personal feelings toward us, we were two of the best guides On the Go had ever had.
My favourite moment, though, was Mila’s parting shot.
“Oh, and Sanjay,” she’d said, her voice as sweet and smooth as honey.
“Just a friendly reminder that the rules of the company apply to you too. We have a lot of friends working for On the Go. If I get so much as a whiff of unprofessional behaviour from you, I won’t hesitate to turn over screenshots of our chats. ”
We were both giggling from a mixture of relief and adrenaline by the time we exited the building.
We spilled out onto the sidewalk, delighted to discover even the London weather seemed to be celebrating with us, having shifted from the heavy rain that was falling when we entered the building, to bright sunshine.
Mila and I packed up our things that same day and checked into a hotel.
We spent the next week saying goodbye to friends and coworkers, all while hitting our favourite places in London.
We called it our Farewell Tour, even though we both know our love story with London is far from over.
After our week together, Mila headed home to Czechia to visit her family, while I gave in to my itchy feet and took myself on a little solo trip through England and Scotland.
I admit to experiencing some warring emotions over the last three weeks.
I spent nearly eight years working for On the Go.
I made incredible friends from all over the world, and experienced countless moments that live rent-free in my head.
For it to end so unceremoniously—first with what still feels like an unfair suspension, and then having to force a meeting so we could quit—feels wrong.
I’m trying not to let the emotions of the last several weeks taint my overall feelings toward my time with On the Go, but it’s going to be a process. In the meantime, I’m free, and my future feels wide open.
Just like I did back in March, I have checked luggage this time around.
When Mila and I packed up our things, I discovered I owned way more stuff than I realized.
I donated what I could, but still filled two large suitcases, which were stored with a friend while I travelled.
I’m not looking forward to hauling it all home on a bus and then a taxi, but my arrival is so last-minute, I told Mum not to send anyone for me.
After years of international travel, I’m perfectly capable of getting to Honeywell on my own.
Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t search the waiting crowd for Nathan.
We haven’t spoken in the three weeks I’ve been gone.
I picked up my phone countless times to call or text him—the way I still do to call or text Dad—but stopped myself.
I honoured his request for space before I left, and I figured that should extend to after I left too.
I’m heading for the exit when I hear someone call my name, followed by the sound of running feet. I only have a few seconds to release my bags and brace myself before Rex flies into my arms. I drop to my knees, laughing and crying as I wrap him in a hug and cover his face with kisses.
A shadow falls over us. For one blissful moment, I allow myself to hope it’s Nathan, and yet I’m not at all disappointed when I look up into Liam’s familiar brown eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “I told Mum not to let anyone come for me.”
“Just like I bet you told her not to make a fuss when you get home, but you know she’s cooking up a storm right now,” Liam says.
I push to my feet, keeping hold of Rex with one arm as I loop the other around Liam. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He brushes a kiss on my temple and then releases me to take charge of my bags.
Rex grips my hand, swinging our arms back and forth, and humming a jaunty tune as we make our way to the exit. Liam and I meet each other’s eyes and exchange a smile. What a change from that day two months ago.
“Auntie Fi, did you bring me any snacks?” Rex asks.
“I brought you a ton of snacks,” I tell him. “I’ll dole some out in the truck so you won’t be tempted to eat it all on the way home.”
Rex says, “Yay!” while Liam gives me a wry look and says, “My upholstery thanks you.”
* * *
The second I step into the house, I’m greeted by the comforting, familiar scents of Mum’s cooking. As wonderful as that is, nothing compares to the genuine smile Mum gives me when she sees me, or the long hug we share.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” she says into my hair.
We’ve talked in some capacity every day since I left, but I missed her.
Dad’s death, and the weeks we spent together afterward, have brought us closer in ways I never expected.
Between my packed schedule with On the Go and the cost of international travel, I typically only made it back to Honeywell once a year, but I know I won’t be able to be apart from Mum for such long stretches now.
Thanks to the money Dad left me, that won’t be an issue.
“I’ve invited everyone for dinner,” Mum says. “Why don’t you go get settled and enjoy a bit of peace before everyone arrives?”
I agree, and take my first suitcase upstairs to my room.
When I return to grab the second one, Nathan is coming through the front door.
I freeze partway down the stairs. As eager as I’ve been to see him and tell him everything I’ve been thinking and feeling during our time apart, I didn’t know what to expect when we saw each other again.
Would he have reverted to his cool indifference?
Would he be friendly, yet distant? Would he avoid me altogether?
My worries scatter when our eyes meet, and a slow smile unfurls across his face.
The sight sends an electric thrill skittering across my skin, along with a deep sense of rightness that settles in my bones.
We’re silent as we take each other in. The dark circles are gone from under his eyes, and his hair appears freshly trimmed.
He’s wearing a green plaid shirt I’ve never seen before, paired with well-worn jeans that showcase those gloriously muscled thighs of his.
He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m suddenly aware I’m still in my plane clothes—black yoga pants and my comfiest loose-fitting sweater—and that my hair is secured in a messy pile on top of my head. The way Nathan looks at me, eyes bright and searching, makes me think he likes what he sees.
“Fiona,” he says finally, his voice low and gravelly.
“Nathan. Hi.” I descend the last few steps and stop with a few feet of space between us. “I really want to hug you, but…”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he holds out his arms. I step forward, closing my eyes as he wraps me in a tight embrace. I can feel his slow, deep inhale, and I know he’s smelling my hair, just like he’s done for as long as I can remember.
When we part, we go back to staring at each other.
There are so many things I want to tell him.
Things I need to say. I figured out so much while I was away.
For starters, I’ve decided I do, in fact, have a favourite colour: the exact shade of Nathan’s blue-grey eyes.
Beyond that, and more importantly, I’ve realized that as much as I love exploring the world, and as life-changing and life-affirming as it is, it’s all meaningless without love.
Without him. His voice, his eyes, the way he looks at me and touches me.
The way he laughs, and the look on his face when he makes me laugh—part pleasure, part surprise.
The way his eyes sometimes light with wonder when he looks at me.
It’s the way I imagine I look when I see the ancient rolling hills in the Scottish Highlands or the masterpieces in Italy. It’s priceless.
“I need to tell you—” I say at the same time as Nathan says, “I want to talk to you about—”
The words die, and we both laugh awkwardly.
“Go ahead,” Nathan says.
I don’t have a chance to speak before the front door flies open and Rex barrels in. He bumps against Nathan playfully as he grabs my hand. “Come out to the treehouse, Auntie Fi! I want to show you the new bookcase Uncle Nathan built.”
“To be continued?” I ask Nathan over my shoulder as Rex hauls me toward the door. He doesn’t have a chance to respond, but I don’t miss his enigmatic smile.
* * *