“Yeah? You really think so?” Ruby asks, his voice quiet. I don’t think I imagine it shaking a little.
My arm tightens around him. “With everything in me,” I assure him. “Thisisn’tgoodbye. I promise.”
Ruby nods and takes a step back. There are tears in his eyes that are reflected in mine and Alka’s. Alka kisses him. It’s sweet and sad and breaks my heart. Then I get to experience the emotions I witnessed for myself when I kiss Ruby.
“Soon,” I swear. “We’ll count down the days, Ruby.”
He nods and wipes his eyes. “Okay.”
Before I change my mind and cancel our flight, I take my husband’s hand and the handles to our suitcases in my other hand and lead him toward the gate. He looks back, waves, and faces forward again.
“This was always going to be hard, but it feels like my heart is in a juicer,” Alka mutters.
“I’m going to make you the same promise. Soon. I swear.”
He nods. “I know,” he whispers. “Butnowfeels really awful.”
It does. I don’t argue that at all.
We make it through check-out quickly, keeping our bracelets long enough for our BioScan-locked boxes to be retrieved which requires our fingerprints to open. Then they’re removed from our wrist with a little device that looks like it cuts them in two.
I drop my phone into my pocket and put my watch on my wrist even though it’s dead. It’s too bad there isn’t a service that will charge both before we pick them up. I understand why there’s not—it defeats the purpose of a securely locked box that protects our belongings. You simply can’t have both.
We’re silent on the shuttle and don’t speak through the tiny security line. As soon as we’re on the small plane, we plug inour phones to charge. Our hands rarely unclasp unless necessary. In a way, I think we’re clinging to each other for more than comfort.
It’s a good ten minutes before either of our phones have enough juice to turn on. Alka immediately fishes out Ruby’s phone number and programs it into his phone before sending a text.
It’s three simple words. We miss you.
He flinches. “I’m not sure those are the words he should see first.”
“Why?”
“Because I think he’s already going to be sad. Will it make him sadder?”
“Maybe. But I think it’ll also assure him that we’re missing him as much as he’s missing us. It’s mutual.”
Alka sighs. “Three days of silence is going to suck,” he mutters as he opens his emails. I try not to look at the number of unread in his inbox. It’s astronomical.
As mine will be. I don’t even bother. That’s a tomorrow Oscar problem. Not today.
My head on his shoulder, I absently watch as he clicks through work emails. He opens one from his assistant coach, Harper.
Revision. This is the final roster. I added one more late transfer. He was endorsed by Gabe Zanderman! I figured if a pro player will take the time to give this guy his praise, he’s worth the change.
Alka doesn’t open the attachment. He sends over a quick:
Thank you. On my way home. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.
It takes him most of the flight to get through the work emails.I’m glad for the distraction even though they have nothing to do with me and aren’t incredibly entertaining.
Once through the airport and in the car to drive home, Alka starts responding to text messages. We’re quiet as we drive. The music is on but barely loud enough to hear. It’s little more than elevator music right now.
“Declan wants to get together before school starts,” he says. “He also invites us to a birthday party—one of Vulcan’s kids.”
I smile. We hang out with Declan somewhat regularly, and since he shares a… uh… life, I suppose is the most accurate word, with his boyfriend, who also works on campus, his twin, his twin’s husband, their best friend, and their best friend’s boyfriend, who also happens to be a dean on campus,andsaid dean’s bestie Vulcan and Vulcan’s big family of four boyfriends and three kids… Yeah, I don’t remember where I’m going with this.
Oh right. Vulcan’s kid’s birthday. So that’s how we know a man named Vulcan and why we’re being invited to his kid’s birthday party.
