“Preston, that’s not necessary. I’m used to it.”
“I know you are, but I don’t like the idea of them attacking you when I’m not there to protect you.” Tears fill my eyes again. “Please don’t cry. I don’t think I can take it if you cry.”
“Where is your gate?” Please let it be close to mine.
“A17, you?”
“B5. When do you leave?” My connection leaves within the hour for LAX.
“Same time as you.” Our teams tried as hard as they could to get us home as quickly as possible and out of the public eye.
“I’ll walk you to your gate.”
“You can’t, Hollywood. You need to get to your gate.”
“I’m not ready.” Clutching Preston’s hand, I bring it back to my face. “I don’t want to leave yet.”
“We have to.” Preston’s thumb strokes my cheek through the fabric on my face. Nodding, I soak him in until the door opens telling us it is time to go. Preston and I depart the plane before everyone else. Grasping my hand in his, Preston leads us up the ramp and into the concourse. The Dallas airport is busier than the Belize airport but not anywhere close to what it normally is. Preston lifts my hand to his covered mouth but I can feel his lips press against the back of my hand.
Wrapping me in a hug in the middle of the terminal, he says, “This is where I leave you.” Burying my head in his chest, I try to ward off the tears until I am alone. Preston pulls back too soon. “Good thing I gave you my number already because it would be really awkward to ask for it now.” A watery laugh bubbles out at his joke.
“Good thing.” I sniffle, looking up at him. Preston fixes the hat on my head, pulling it lower to shield my eyes and tucking my hair in. “Let me know when you get home.”
“I’ll call you.”
Preston doesn’t move as I back away from him. He holds my hand until I’m too far to keep it in his grasp.
“Be safe.”
“I will.” I try to keep my head high as I walk away from him. My feet are moving but I’m leaving half of me behind. My heart feels like it is being ripped out of my chest. Immediately my mind starts to spiral. Did I give Preston the assurance he gave me? Was it enough? My steps stutter as panic sets in. I can’t breathe. It feels like someone is sitting on my chest. I grasp at my throat trying to calm myself. My vision feels blurry. I can’t leave like this. Oh god, what have I done?
Spinning around, my eyes franticly search the concourse for Preston. I find him standing in the same place I left him. He’swatching me with furrowed brows. Then, I’m running. Preston takes two steps toward me but stops to brace himself when I show no sign of slowing down. Jumping when I get close enough, Preston catches me as my legs wind around his waist and my arms lock around his neck.
Tugging my mask down, I pepper kisses along his neck and jaw. Preston lowers one side of his mask allowing me access.
Kissing him hard, I pour all my emotion into him as the panic leaves my body. “I couldn’t leave without telling you I believe you. I believe in us. I trust you. I love you. I love you so much, Preston. You came into my life when I least expected it, but you have shown me how to live. You’ve shown me how to love. You’ve shown me it's okay to be my real self and to share her with the world. It’s going to be hard. It’s going to suck. But we can do it. We are stronger than this.”
The worry around Preston’s eyes eases. The stress in his shoulders relax. My words hit home like I hoped they would. Preston is strong. He is the backbone for us both. I knew he was hurting but he was trying to hold it together. It’s time I became an equal partner in bearing the load.
“I love you too, Ives. She was in there all along but I’m happy you let me meet her first.” With one final kiss, Preston lowers me to the ground. Checking his watch, Preston curses under his breath. “You have to go. Now. You’re going to miss your flight.”
“I’ll talk to you soon. I love you.” Preston leaves first this time, walking down the concourse to terminal A with me staring as the man of my dreams heads towards home.
“Thank God, you’re home.” Taylor rushes me as soon as I walk in the door of my condo.
“What are you still doing here? I’m supposed to quarantine before seeing anyone.”
“I had to make sure you were okay. We can quarantine together.”
Taylor has been staying in Santa Monica since she fled New York. It seems to have been good for her. It will be nice to have the company while I work through the media firestorm and my heart in Tampa.
“I’m okay. Just sad.”
Taylor’s sympathetic smile matches my sad one. My tears have dried but my soul aches. If this is how it feels after a few hours, the next four months will suck.
“I hate to dive right in, but we have work to do.”
“How bad is it?”
