still there.
I’m still in love with him.
That kiss was bliss, and it was terrifying.
Eventually, though, the fear won out, and I had to go.
If I let him back in, all the way in, will he just end up hurting me again?
I wish I knew the answer to that.
I wish I had some kind of guarantee that Luca will never break my heart.
But life doesn’t come with guarantees. When you lose both of your parents at the age of nine, sadly, you come to understand that stark reality more than most.
I know the baggage of my past makes it difficult for me to open up and trust people, especially in relationships. Throughout my twenty-four years of life, I’ve had all of three boyfriends, none of whom lasted more than a few months.
Mostly, I just dated, taking comfort in the temporary without having to commit to the future.
But with Luca, opening up and trusting was the easy part.
It was the whole him breaking my heart thing anyway that was hard to deal with.
Ron Swanson waxes poetic about his love for breakfast meats, and I shove the last pair of shoes into my suitcase and zip it up. It’s a little after five p.m., and my flight leaves at nine this evening.
Once I toss on my boots and throw my hair up into a messy bun, I call Ralph and let him know I need a cab to the airport.
“Of course, Billie. I’ll have one here in about fifteen minutes,” he obliges.
Sheesh. Pretty sure when you’re on a first-name basis with hotel staff, you’ve probably spent a little too much time inside the fucking hotel.
When I finally check my phone, I see a few texts and missed calls from Olivia and Callie.
Apparently, since no one needs to leave for New York until late tomorrow, most of the cast and crew are going to meet for dinner and drinks downtown.
Quickly, I shoot them a text and let them know my current status—heading to the airport for a flight to West Virginia. And thank them for the invitation.
And then I grab my purse and suitcase and head for the door.
Ralph greets me by name again at the front desk, helps me check out, and into the waiting cab.
The ride to the airport is quick, and before I know it, I’m there, all checked in and through security, and my boarding zone number is on the screen.
I give my ticket to the gate agent and walk down the jetway that leads to my plane.
When I find my seat, I toss my carry-on in the overhead compartment and sit down, buckling myself in and staring out the window while the rest of the passengers file on to the plane.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to find Incoming Call Luca flashing across the screen.
Like a dam breaks inside my brain, memories of last night filter into my mind again, and I just kind of stare down at the screen of my phone, unable to hit accept on the call.
I still don’t know what I’m feeling.
He kissed me. I kissed him.
He told me he loves me.
I told him I needed space.
And he respected that, didn’t question it, and simply put me in a cab.
Other than his text last night to make sure I made it back to the hotel safely, I haven’t heard from him at all today.
Not while I was getting ready to leave.
Not when I was in a taxi on my way to the airport.
And not when I was waiting at the gate to board my plane.
When the call goes to voice mail, my heart drops.
Fuck. I probably should’ve answered.
Even if I’m a mess of confusion and doubt, I should’ve at least given him that.
But not even a minute later, a text comes through.
Luca: I thought you’d be at dinner with the crew, but you’re not here. Are you okay?
I type out a response and hit send.
Me: I’m fine. I’m at the airport. I have somewhere else I need to go for a few days, but I’ll meet up with everyone in New York.
Luca: I know you said you needed space from me, and I respect that, but I need you to know that I meant what I said last night, Billie. Everything I said.
Tears fill my eyes, and I just stare down at his words.
Luca: And I have something for you.
A moment later, a video clip comes through.
My finger hovers over it as my mind wars with itself, going back and