In the end, she couldn’t agree to stay. I had to accept it. I got us a ride to the airport because there was no fucking way I could drive safely.
“This isn’t the last time,” I whispered in her ear through my tears. If someone recognized me, it was just too fucking bad. I couldn’t say goodbye to her in the parking lot.
“What if it is? You’ll find someone else,” she cried, her arms snug around my shoulders.
“I won’t. I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes,” I sobbed. “I will, Kitty. I’ll wait until the day I die.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Guy,” she hiccuped.
“Okay, maybe I’ll fuck someone else, but I won’t love anyone else,” I half-joked.
“That’s more realistic,” she said, pulling back with a sad smile and rubbing her thumbs over my cheeks. I held her face in my hands, needing her eyes so she could feel what I was saying down to the core of her being.
“Kitty, I will always love you. I will never stop,” I forced out. “No matter where you are, I will be loving you.”
She nodded, crying all over again. “You’ll always be the one, Guy. I’ll never stop loving you.”
Always. Never. We were both.
And then we were nothing.
Part 4:
The Ghost
Chapter 28
Kitty
A zombie looked back at me in the dim light of the airport bathroom. I didn’t warn Mom that we’d broken up. I didn’t tell her that Guy proposed. But when she saw me at baggage claim in our tiny little hometown airport, she knew I wasn’t okay.
With a big hug, she just whispered, “I’m sorry, sweetie,” in my ear, took me home, and made me a cup of tea while I bawled at the kitchen table.
I held it together for that whole flight home. I felt like I was drugged. I wasn’t even old enough for the first-class booze, though the flight attendant was kind enough to offer me some anyway. No amount of Bloody Marys could cure what was wrong with me. I’d walked away from the greatest love I’d ever known, knowing that we both still loved each other down to our bones.
The distance just wasn’t worth the stress of it. We both had big things to do and needed the freedom to do them. Long-distance doesn’t work if you can’t even find a way to talk once or twice a day. We needed connections we weren’t getting.
Mom put a steaming mug of tea in front of me. I warmed my hands with it but didn’t drink it.
“Tea’s disgusting, Mom,” I grumbled. “It’s just watery leaves.”
Mom cackled. “Glad to see you’re still funny in your misery. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Later, Frank knocked on my door. He sat on my bed, where I was curled up in a pile of used tissues. His tone was gentle, something he rarely employed.
“Hey, sissy,” he said, a name he rarely used. “Guy wanted me to check on you.”
That started me sobbing again. “I can’t believe it’s over.”
Frank twisted his lips to chew on them. “I know it’s hard, but you made the right choice.”
“It doesn’t feel that way. He still wanted to try.”
“Well, he wasn’t doing great, either. Not being able to talk to you enough was killing him.”
“Yeah, but now we’re not going to talk at all,” I moaned.
“Maybe you can talk again soon. But you probably do need to grow up a little on your own.”
