"You need to go," I repeated, firmer this time. "He's your dad. Yeah, he's complicated, and yeah, things are messy, but if something happens—if he... if he dies, and you weren't there? You'll never forgive yourself. Trust me."
My voice cracked slightly, memories of Nana's last days flooding back. The rush to the hospital. The fear. "I know what that regret feels like. Don't carry it."
"But regionals are in two weeks," he argued, though his resistance was weak. "You need—"
"I don't need you here for that. Iwantyou here, but I don't need you. I've got Pops, I've got Cassie, I've got Bandit. I'll be fine." I squeezed his hand, trying to pour every ounce of reassurance into my touch. "Go. Be with your family. A day or two, like Z said. Then come back. We'll still be here."
He searched my face, his expression torn—guilt and fear and longing all tangled together. "I don't want to leave you. Not after everything. Not with the reporters and—"
"I'll handle it. We'll handle it." I leaned in, pressing my forehead to his. "This is what you do when you care about someone, right? You let them go when they need to go, and you trust they'll come back."
His breath hitched. He kissed me—desperate, clinging, like he was memorizing the shape of my lips. "I'm coming back. I swear. A few days, tops."
"I know."
He kissed me again, deeper, his hand cupping my face.
Cassie—bless her—made exaggerated gagging noises from the passenger seat. "Ewwww! Okay, I said I'd be quiet, not blind! Save the tonsil hockey for private time! There's a child present!"
"You're twenty-three," I muttered against Beau's mouth, but I was smiling, the tension breaking just slightly.
"Emotionally, I'm twelve!" Cassie protested, covering her eyes dramatically. "And this is grossly romantic! Stop being cute! It's making me feel feelings!"
Beau pulled back, laughing despite everything, and pressed one last kiss to my forehead. "Alright. Alright. I'll... I'll book a flight tonight. Leave first thing tomorrow morning."
"We'll drive you to Tulsa," I said immediately. "To the airport."
"You don't have to—"
"We're doing it. End of discussion." I looked at Cassie. "Right?"
"Damn straight. Road trip part two: Emotional Airport Edition." Cassie lowered her hands, her expression softening. "Beau, for real though. I hope your dad's okay. Even if he's kind of a dick from what I've heard."
Beau snorted, the sound half-laugh, half-sob. "Yeah. Thanks, Cassie."
He put the truck in gear, pulling back onto the road. But the easy joy from before was gone, replaced with a heavy quiet that pressed against all of us. I kept my hand in his, my head on his shoulder, and tried not to think about how everything could change in the span of one phone call.
I tried not to think about how "a day or two" might turn into forever.
.
BEAU
A scare
Tulsa International Airport
6:45 AM
"I should've known better than to cheat a friend / And waste the chance that I've been given / So I'm never gonna dance again / The way I danced with you"
- George Michael
***
The pre-dawn sky was a bruised purple over the airport parking lot, the kind of half-light that made everything feel temporary, like it could vanish if you blinked too hard. Pops' old Ford idled at the curb outside departures, exhaust curling in the chill air. I stood there with my single black duffel bag slung over one shoulder, feeling like an idiot for only bringing one piece of luggage.
It was all I needed—jeans, a few shirts, toiletries. I wasn't planning on staying.Two days, max. See Dad, make sure he was breathing, hug Mom, and get the hell back to Oklahoma before I missed my chance to be… whatever I was becoming.
