Once inside, my heart calms down even more. Until I realize that I now have to spend more time in a small space with Beau, with no buffer humans.
I take out my phone and open my email. Maybe he can think I’m a very busy human working on this emergency I invented. I stare at the unrefreshed email, because I still have no service. I guess I should be glad his eyes are on the road and he can’t see the subterfuge I’ve worked, and failed, to create.
“What’s the emergency?” he asks.
“Rogue vendors.” If it was a good enough excuse for him, it’s a good enough excuse for me. “If I don’t get back, there won’t be any food for the Christmas dinner we’re hosting right before the auction. Or alcohol. And full, drunk buyers spend more money.” I can hear the crack in my voice and hope he thinks I’m just really dedicated to the job, to the point I’m getting choked up over a lack of canapes.
“That sucks. You can’t do it over the phone?”
Probably. Since the issue doesn’t exist. “I organized them. And people are more willing to work with you in person.” I mirror the same words he used on me when he had to leave New York.
“So much technology but the old-school ways still work the best.”
“Yeah.”
“I hope it’s a quick fix for you.”
“Yeah.” I keep my answers short. Less evidence to give me away.
We get to the house, and I flee up the stairs, ignoring Bubba as he tries to greet me like he hasn’t seen me in a month. Don’t get attached, little guy; I’m leaving just like everyone does. I don’t want to be the one to teach you this lesson, but I have to if no one else will.
Beau stays downstairs with the dog, giving me some privacy.
I throw things my things into my suitcase with my uninjured arm, not worrying about the expensive packing cubes I got to make my life easier. I get the packing done in record time, changing into leggings and a comfortable shirt with a lot of difficulty and pain to my fractured wrist.
Beau runs up the stairs to take my suitcase before I can come down. I let him have one last display of gentlemanly behavior without complaint before I leave. Also my wrist couldn’t have taken the luggage down the stairs anyway.
“Are you sure you can get a flight?” Beau asks.
If I have to, I will spend the night in the airport. Or outside the airport if it closes. There must be a hotel nearby. Even around the smallest airport I’ve ever seen in my life.
“It’ll be fine.” But I do open my phone and search for flights. Might as well buy one now while I’m hooked up to the house’s Wi-Fi. My phone tells me there’s one last flight that I can just barely make and then I’ll have a long layover in Atlanta, but eventually I’ll be back in New York. I buy it immediately while Beau loads up my suitcase.
A short, silent drive later, during which I grunt responses so Beau can’t tell from my voice I’m still panicked, we’re at the airport.
“I hope everything goes well with work.” Beau makes a last-ditch effort to get me in conversation as he gets my suitcase out.
“Thank you. I think it’ll be fine. I just need to be there.” Or anywhere that isn’t here.
“Well. I’ll be back in New York to check on the battery team soon. Maybe we can meet for dinner?”
Hopefully I’ll be done with his office by his first visit. A lot of pieces are already delivered and he bought more while we were in South Carolina, so I need to find him just a few more and arrange everything. Tasks that I will work overtime and on weekends to finish so it’s all done and I won’t have reasons to take his calls when he’s in town.
“Sure. Shoot me a text when you get to the city.”
Now please leave me alone so I can cry alone at an airport gate, like a cliché. I’ve held it together at the thought of how embarrassing it would be to cry in front of him. But I’m not a machine; I can’t keep up this façade of emotionally stable person much longer.
“Yeah. Maybe I can come up sooner than the work needs? Maybe come up for a long weekend?” Beau sounds hopeful at the question, but he doesn’t know how this ends because no one’s ever left him. I, however, do know. Enough for the both of us.
I look at my phone to avoid the wave of intense longing that crashes into me at the suggestion. I’ve never wanted anything more. But to what end? Just to watch each other leave for years before we decide it’s not worth it? But by that time, I’ll not only be in love with him like I am now, I’ll also get too used to having him around, even if only periodically. So I’ll be in painandhave to learn how to be completely alone again.
I hold up the phone, showing the time. “I better go so I don’t miss the flight. But I’ll text you.”
Spoiler alert: I will not be texting him.
“Of course. Let me help you in.”
No. I already let him do his last gentlemanly act toward me. “I don’t think you can leave your car here. And anyway, I’ll be fine. I think I can handle this two-gate airport.” I send him a quick kiss on the check and then a quick smile. The very last bit of perfidy I can manage for the night.
