“But your wrist.”
“I only have to roll everything the short distance to the gate. I’ll be good.”
“Well. I really liked spending time with you. New York. Here. Wherever. I really like—”
“I had a really good time with you.” I don’t want to hear what he has to say. It can only make things harder now.
He doesn’t press. “Call me if you can’t get on the flight or need anything.”
“Thank you.” But I’m already walking toward the building.
Inside I stop behind the automatic doors, giving myself one last look back. Beau’s still standing by his truck, looking toward me. I cut my look short so I don’t do something I’ll regret, like run out of the building and throw myself at Beau, promising to quit my job, telling him I love him and that I’m moving here.
Because even though I think I do love him, I can’t give up my entire life when there are no guarantees in love. I can’t take the risk.
So I turn back around and walk straight to the check-in counter.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I get to Atlanta with no problem, except a lot of tears and pitying/ annoyed looks, and then I have a long wait. Plenty of time to make the call that I’ve been dreading.
I wipe the tears from my eyes before I click on the contact, because she’ll be able to use her efficient magic to know something’s wrong. And since I never cry, she’ll know it’s something major.
I had originally decided to stop crying when I was in middle school and realized that no matter how much I cried, my parents wouldn’t stay. It’s kind of stuck since then. And I’m really not enjoying that it’s made a reappearance now.
With each ring I breathe a little easier, thinking I can avoid this conversation for a while if she doesn’t answer.
But then the line goes silent, and Priya says, “What’s up, buttercup?”
Priya’s familiar voice breaks through my composure and my tears start leaking again despite my best efforts to keep them in my eyes.
“I’m at the airport in Atlanta waiting for my return flight home.” It’s hard to get the words out, but she hears enough.
“What? What’s going on? Did you knock the peachperson out and stuff him in a suitcase? Because kidnapping is illegal, but I’ll harbor your criminal ass. And your victim’s ass, too.”
Priya is off her game. Normally she can tell what I’m feeling before I have to explain it to her. I knew marriage made people soft.
“No. I left. I...couldn’t... I just couldn’t,” I whisper to her, burying my face in my free hand.
Priya stays uncharacteristically silent and then is unusually subdued when she finally does say something. “I’m sorry, Sonia. I wish I could slap your parents for you.”
That gets a little laugh from me. “I don’t think Chachiand Chacha would be too happy with you.”
Priya scoffs. “We both know Mom lets me get away with murder ever since I insisted Dad take more vacations away from my offices.” Probably so Chacha doesn’t hear her call his officesheroffices. “Come home, Sonia. We’ll take care of you.”
“Yeah. You will.”
“We always do.”
“Love you.”
“Love you more.”
I don’t bother arguing with the queen of competition. Just because she would really like it.
“Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m set. I’ll see you soon.”
