to keep them—it’s in the contract after all.
He closes his eyes until they reach the lobby, then he steps up to the welcome desk and clears his throat. “Can you call for a car to the airport.”
The man gives him a look, but he nods. “It should only be a minute, sir.”
Avery steps outside in spite of the winter chill. It’s snowing again, but he’s safe under the awning. The valets are stealing surreptitious glances at him, but he ignores them in favor of pulling up his mom’s contact and sending her a text.
Avery: You win, I changed my mind. Pick me up from the airport? I’ll text you details when I have my flight info.
Part of him feels irrational as he climbs into the car and shuts the door. Maybe he should have stayed and given Alejandro a chance to explain himself. But he knows it’ll be worse hearing it from his lips, because Alejandro will try to make it gentle, and he knows he’s not strong enough to stand up against that level of pain.
So, instead of going back, instead of letting himself open up, he turns his phone off, presses his forehead to the cool glass, and watches as the city lights pass by.
17
Winter Heart
“You don’t have to tell me the details,” a voice says, and Avery doesn’t roll over, but he feels the bed move and then the warm hand of his mother as it passes up and down his back. He wants to be young enough and small enough to curl into her arms, because even though it won’t make the pain stop, he wouldn’t mind the comfort.
He hasn’t said much since she arrived at the airport. He turned his phone on long enough to send her the text letting her know what time his plane was set to arrive and what gate he’ll be coming out of, with every ounce of willpower he had, he shut the phone back off. There were seven texts and two voicemails, and he knew they were from Alejandro, but he wasn’t brave enough yet.
He spent the whole time waiting for his flight in the café with his eyes staring across the security line, waiting for the big movie moment where Alejandro figured him out then bursts through the crowd to declare his undying love.
“Avery,” he would cry, “it was all a mistake. You misunderstood. It’s only you I want.”
Or… some bullshit like that.
Instead, he boarded a plane with way too much caffeine running through his veins, and he got a four second hug before he was shuffled into his mom’s car so they didn’t get yelled at by the security officer. She was suspicious about the fact that he arrived with no coat or bags, but she didn’t say a word while they navigated the busy holiday streets, and eventually they made it out of the city and into their little neighborhood.
He likes the place his parents found. It’s off the beaten path, surrounded by a lot of green, though most of it is white with snow from November to March. But it’s got a little yard where his dad can garden and no stairs, so neither of them risk falling as they get older. He’s got a bedroom because his mom will always have a bedroom for him. It even has some of his old books and a few sweaters he never bothered to pack away when he started college.
It doesn’t feel like his though—but really, neither does his apartment. But over the last two days, he started to feel like maybe he belonged, and now he knows the price he paid for waking Alejandro’s heart to love again.
He feels his eyes get hot, and he rolls over to face his mom, trying find the words for, ‘I broke my own heart, and I don’t know how to put it back together again.’
She doesn’t say anything more, though. She just uses her fingers to wipe at his tears, and there’s struggle in her eyes because he knows her. She wants to help, but in situations like this, there’s nothing she can do.
“Want me to fix you a plate?” she asks, the familiar words comforting in the best way.
He smiles at her and shakes his head because he can’t even think about eating. “I promise I’ll make it up to you at breakfast.” It’s too late for food anyway. It has to be well past midnight, and he knows she needs her rest. “You should get to bed.