Sparks - Wendy Higgins Page 0,70
happening. A sob escaped me then and I raised my phone to muffle the sounds.
“Please don’t cry, Harlow, please,” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I’m so fucking sorry. I swear to God, I never meant to hurt you. I meant everything I said. The connection is real. I wish I would have met you first.”
“I have to go.” I was about to lose my shit.
“Please don’t hate me. I can’t handle it if you hate me.”
God above. This man who’d faced death in a warzone had been fucking neutered by a woman. “I don’t understand how you can make plans with me one day and go back to her the next. You were just with me. It’s like it meant nothing!”
“I know. And I hate that I hurt you. I will never forgive myself for that. It did mean something to me—all of it—especially last night. I meant it when I said you’re a good piece of gear. And if this doesn’t work out, I’m telling you right now Harlow Robinson…I’m coming for you.”
“Don’t say that.” In the space of a heartbeat my tears dried, and my sadness turned to anger and defiance. “Do you expect me to sit over here, waiting around, filled with hope that I might get to be your sloppy seconds someday? That’s totally fucked up! If you’re breaking things off with me, Shawn, break it off for good and mean it.”
He paused a long while and I closed my eyes, my teeth clenched, a hand on my forehead as I waited.
“For the record, I would have never thought of you as sloppy seconds, but you’re right. It would be selfish of me to try and leave things open.” He paused a beat, his voice softening. “It’s over, Harlow. For good. You should move on.”
I nodded. And I kept nodding. Something inside of me hardened. “Good luck, Shawn.”
I hung up, fully and unequivocally wrecked.
I had the next day off from work. On a whim, I called the airline.
“Is there room on the last flight out to Norfolk?”
“Yes, we’ve actually got a few seats. But it leaves in an hour and fifteen.”
“I can make it.” I hung up and shoved a change of clothes in my bag with a few other things. Then I went out into the living room where every one of my roommates sat waiting. All eyes went to me, then my bag.
“It’s over with Shawn,” I said, almost collapsing at the shocking weight of the words. “I’m going to fly home tonight. See my parents. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Rhea stood, but I literally would break down if anyone tried to hug me.
“I have to go, I’m late. I’ll text you guys.” I rushed from the apartment, feeling guilt for pushing away my friends on top of everything else. Luckily traffic wasn’t too bad. I parked, shuttled, and ran through employee security, getting to my gate ten minutes before takeoff. I sat in the middle between a goth teen with earbuds and an older man who eyed me as if he wanted to get chatty. I quickly put on my headphones, though nothing was playing, and laid my head back, closing my eyes.
Don’t think, I told myself. Don’t think. If I let myself think I would start to feel all the things, and I would make a scene by crying on the plane.
I’d texted my mom from the shuttle and she was beyond thrilled that I’d be coming for a visit, even if only one day. I’d always been close and open with my parents, but in the past month since they’d been traveling, and I’d been busy, I had hardly spoken with them. We had a lot of catching up to do.
They met me outside of the gates and as I went into their smiling embraces, I began to tremble, not wanting to let go.
“Honey, what’s the matter?” Mom asked. I was too overwhelmed to respond.
“Okay,” Dad said, taking charge and putting my bag over his own shoulder. “Let’s get to the car.”
It was late, almost midnight. Thankfully they only lived fifteen minutes from the small airport and it was easy to get in and out of. In the time it took to get home, I’d told them nearly everything about Shawn. I left out how he’d come to see me straight from Japan and we’d blown each others’ minds. I felt pretty gross about that now.
We pulled up at home and Mom took me in