Without another thought, I turn toward the door and fling it open again. My heart is racing. My vision is clouding with premature tears. My legs aren’t even controlled by my brain anymore, just two limbs doing their own thing, carrying me back in front of Aiden just as he glances up and smiles.
“I found a flight from Austin that would put me in New York tomorrow before noon,” he says, setting his laptop on the coffee table then heading off toward the closet.
What?! Already?!
“Oh, really?” I sound like I’m unimpressed. “Early morning flights are always tough because it’s like, do you go back to sleep? Do you ask for another coffee? But then what? That much caffeine? Phew. Good luck. You’ll have to ask your seatmate in the aisle to let you out to use the bathroom, and you know they always get annoyed—”
He laughs. “It’ll be fine.”
I squint. “Will it, though? I mean, what airline are you flying with?”
“Delta.”
“Delta?! Yikes. I mean, at least Southwest gives you peanuts.”
“I think Delta gives out snacks too.”
Shit. Do they?
I hear him yanking clothes off hangers. He’s really leaving. Like right now. If he has an early-morning flight out of Austin, that means he has to drive home today.
I bite down on my knuckles, fumbling for a plan. When I marched back in here, I thought he’d be sitting right where he was, having the same doubts as me. He’d see my expression, frown, shove his laptop aside, and say, Don’t worry. I know exactly how you feel, and of course I’m not taking the job. I’d never leave you.
Then we’d kiss for soooo long and gallop off into the sunset on noble steeds.
CRAP.
“Aiden!” I call out suddenly.
He comes back into the room, moving fast as he circles the bed so he can unplug his phone charger from the wall and wrap it up into a clean ball.
“Yeah?”
“Are you absolutely sure about this?”
“About what?” he asks, not bothering to stop and look at me.
Courage seeps out of me like helium out of a balloon.
“The…flight.”
He laughs. “Delta is fine.”
Then I stand immobile as he carries his phone charger and laptop back into the closet so he can finish packing up.
I’m not doing this right. I wrongly assumed binge-watching romantic comedies my entire life would have equipped me with better skills for this moment. I’m fresh out of grand gestures. I don’t have giant poster boards and a boombox à la Love Actually. I am not leaning casually against a red Porsche Sixteen Candles style. I don’t even have a microphone handy to croon “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” like Heath Ledger did on those bleachers in 10 Things I Hate About You.
I look around me, uninspired by the decor in our desert bungalow.
Here, Aiden, take this succulent as a token of my affection.
I hear him zip his suitcase, and my heart shreds into tiny pieces. He emerges a moment later with his luggage in tow. He’s flustered, looking around to confirm he has everything he needs.
“I’m sure I’m forgetting something. Will you just bring it back to the condo when you get—” His gaze finally snaps up to me. “Crap, I wasn’t thinking. How are you going to get back to Austin?”
I shake my head. “I’ll have Stephanie coordinate it. Remember, there’s that fleet of SUVs out front.”
He looks relieved.
“Okay, good. I won’t be in New York for long. I booked a return flight for the day after tomorrow.”
What does it matter?
“You’re not mad I’m leaving, are you?” he asks, his dark brows scrunched together in concern.
I train my face into a neutral mask that shrieks, I couldn’t care less!
“Pfft. No! Of course not. I mean”—I point toward the door—“yeah, it’ll suck without you here, and…”
This is it.
THE moment.
“And…I really hope you don’t take the job.”
Those are the words that hang on the tip of my tongue.
Then fists pound on the door and a drunk Stephanie lets herself in.
“Where have you two been!? No sneaking off to have sex in the middle of the day.” She wags her finger back and forth as if chastising us. “This is a party!” She hurries over to me so she can grab my arm and start to drag me back out the door, then she pauses when she sees Aiden’s suitcase. “Why do you have that?”