Before I leave, I cast one final look and smile, already feeling the regret that comes with walking away. My heart breaks into two before I walk out of his life. Hoping that next time we meet again, I’m whole, or at least something close to it. Hoping that he can find it in himself to understand why I need to do this. Why it has to be this way… Once outside, I walk slowly towards Alexa’s parked car. My stomach turns on itself with each step. I think I’m gonna be sick. The feeling isunlike anything I’ve felt before, leaving him there, unaware that tomorrow he would wake up and I wouldn’t be here… that I lied when I said I’ll spend the night. Tomorrow, he will realize that I didn’t stay with him, like he wanted me to. My heart sinks, and the butterflies die. I sigh, pulling open the door and sliding into the passenger seat. Alexa frowns at me. “Wanna talk about it?”
“No.” I shake my head, wrapping my arms around my wet clothes, hating the way they feel on my skin. I'm gonna have to change, but that’s a problem for the airport. Right now, all I do is bring the fabric to my nose, chasing his scent like a hound.
The ride to the airport is quiet. Too fast, and yet, painfully slow. Streetlights smear across the windows in long, distorted streaks, like even the world outside is refusing to look at me clearly. I can feel the heaviness of Alexa’s gaze. I know she’s worried, but she doesn’t voice it, and for that, I’m grateful. By the time we pull up to the departure lane, my insides feel scraped raw.
“Ronnie,” Alexa finally gives in and pushes, and I open the door before she can finish. If she says anything else, I’ll fall apart. And right now, I need all the strength I can get. All the willpower to continue with my plan and find myself. The cold air slaps my face the second I step out, waking every nerve. My legs feel unsteady, and the wet clothes cling to my skin. Uncomfortable and damp. Under it all… him. His scent lingers around and motivates me to push forward.
Opening the back door, I grab the bag I had packed for the trip and sling it over my shoulder after briefly looking in the pocket, making sure everything I will need for traveling is with me. The bag feels heavier than it should. Maybe it’s just me. Only when I’m convinced that I will not cry, I turn to wave at my best friend. She looks like she’s been punched in the chest, already a mess of tears.Fuck, by the wetness on my face and the blur in my vision, so am I.
“See you later,” she mouths, and I repeat back the words before turning away and heading inside. The airport hum swallows me whole. I wonder for a second if Isaac woke up. Did he already notice that I left? Normalcy buzzes all around me, reminding me of why I’m doing this in the first place. Normalcy. The onething I’m desperate for. But my body is still in Isaac’s bed, my heart is still on his pillow, and my soul is etched into his. I find an empty corner by a pillar and stop, pressing my forehead lightly against the cool metal. For a moment, a singular fucking moment, I consider turning around. Running back out that door and heading straight back into the safety of his arms, but I don’t.
Because if I go back…. I’ll never find myself again.
I would be living, but it would be for him, and if I can’t piece myself together, he will rip himself open just to make me whole again, and I love him too much to hold him back from the future. That single thought revitalized me, straightening my spine and continuing towards the TSA to check in. Swallowing fast when the agent inches me forward. My body freezes, casting one final look, expecting him to be here, ready to catch me. Only to realize this time, he’s not here to. Snapping out of it, before following mechanically, just moving on autopilot as I hand over my documents and ticket since I already checked in prior to arrival.
Things run pretty smoothly, despite the storm holding strong inside me, growing and intensifying by the minute. My chest tightens, pulse hammering in my chest. The lights feel too bright, the noise too loud. Every time someone brushes past me, I flinch. Hyper aware of everything and everyone. The airport begins to spin, my hand curls firmly around my bag, the buzz in my ear growing louder. A woman in front of me stops me. “Are you okay, Sweetheart?”
I blink rapidly. “Yeah.” I lie
ISAAC
The sound of my phone ringing causes me to jolt from sleep, my eyes flutter open while my hand searches for the warmth. Forher. My heart sinks, and panic surges before my mind conjures an excuse for her absence.She has to be in the bathroom. That’s why her side is empty. Ronnie couldn—My thoughts are interrupted by myfuckingphone that just keeps ringing. My hand continues to search until I find it—tucked beneath my bed. Sledge. His name on thescreen has my body jumping from its position, already bracing myself for the worst. My brows pull together as I bring my phone to my ears, clearing my throat. “Yo.”
“You need to get the fuck up… if you want to stop your girl,” He says abruptly, making me spring into action so quickly thatThe Flashwouldn’t have shit on me with how quickly I move.
“She’s—” I begin to say, only to realize that her clothes and bag are gone, my heart sinks to the deepest part of my stomach.
“She’s on her way to the airport. You might get there in time,” Sledge adds. I’m already slipping back into my clothes, grabbing my keys, and slipping on shoes. My body moves before my brain does. Multitasking with an efficiency that surprises me. Each movement with purpose, not one is wasted on anything but getting myself downstairs, in my Camaro, and down to that fucking airport.
“Thank you, brother,” I mutter, running towards my Camaro and sliding inside, wasting no time. Sledge says something else, but truthfully, I stopped listening the moment he said airport. I promised I would give her space, not afuckingocean between us. Not somewhere I can’t keep her safe, or drive by to see her face. I couldn’t let her walk out of my life, no matter how badly I wanted her to fly. The Camaro fishtails out of the lot, tires screeching against the wet pavement. Every passing streetlight blurs into gold and red streaks.
“Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…” I tap on the steering wheel before sharply turning towards the highway and merging recklessly. “Don’t fucking do this… Fuck. Fuck.”
A couple of miles down the road feels like an eternity. It takes me far too long to get to her. By the time the airport comes into view, my heart beats so rapidly I can feel it in my stomach. I don’t bother with properly parking my car. Like a complete asshole, I leave it in the spot where you unload. Yet none of that matters when the woman I love is leaving me. I run down the aisle, searching for any flight that’s leaving towards the only place I can think of, Puerto Rico. When I can’t spot it, frustration takes over. Rushing towards the attendant, I slam my hands on the desk and ask, “Flight to San Juan, where is it?”
“Gate C,” the attendant says.
“Thank you,” I say, before taking off in a sprint. Running towards the gate, even if my legs tremble, even as the cold from the airport bites into my bones. I don’t feel shit but the fact that she’s slipping away. Just as I arrive at the TSA Checkpoint, I stop searching for her in the sea of faces that blend amongst the crowd, and like a sore thumb, my girl sticks out, looking devastated at the boarding line.
“VERONICA!” I shout, snapping her from whatever spiral she was definitely working herself into. Her head snaps up, she freezes, and I swear my damn world comes to a full stop. Right now, at this moment, it’s only us who exist. She takes a step forward and, for a split second, I think this might actually be it. I inch forward, trying to get to her, because only if we could talk, maybe I could change her mind.
“Sir, you can’t come past this point.” The security guard steps in front of me, blocking my view. “Please, please, just…” I try to look past him, shifting my body so I outmaneuver him, but it’s hopeless when she moves away, her hand moving to her heart. Her lips move, and with three words, she devastates me. “I love you.”
A tear slips down her cheek, and she turns before I have a chance to beg her not to leave me. Before I have the chance to tell her, “I love you, too.” From outside the gate, I watch as she hands over her ticket and walks down the jetway. The part that hurts the most is watching her leave and her never once looking back. Realizing that I need to let her go, my knees nearly give out, but I hold it together because I’ll wait for her forever.
Chapter Forty Three
Veronica
My pen hovers over the paper, unsure of what else to write. Not much has changed besides the fact that I now live in Puerto Rico and also have a job that I love—enough for me to fight the urge to panic. Enough to think I can make a future here for myself. Talkingabout said job, my lunch break will be over in exactly fifteen minutes. I glance down at my watch and smile. Takinga bite from my beef pastelito, I gaze into the small ripple of waves on the beach before closing the journal and placing it back in my bag. After a couple of bites, I’m done with my pastelito, and shortly after, my malta india.
Walking back towards the clinic, I still find myself getting lost in the culture, in the beauty of the small colonial plaza. It’s truly beautiful seeing all the historic and colorful buildings, the cobblestone streets, busy with locals and tourists who frequent the area. Unfortunately, the walk back is too short to fully enjoy the scene. I push open the small metal gate before stepping inside, making sure to close it behind me and head to the front of the small coral colored building. Clinica Santo Benito is a non-profit group that focuses on mental health and domestic violence victims. Still in awe, every time I take in the hand-painted mural decorating the outside walls.
Abstract painting that hides everything special. The Coqui, the Puerto Rican flag, believe it or not, Bad Bunny, amongst other things. It makes it hard not to stop every chance I get. It’s so different living here than back home. Life moves at a much slower pace, and people are friendly. I can’t shy away from the fact that I’ve contemplated making this move more permanent. There’s just one thing that holds me back. Love. Moving towards the small office in the back, I listen to the laughter coming from the front desk as the girls talk about their night and sexual encounters. Sometimes the urge to join them tugs at me, yet every time I work up the courage to do so, I stop myself.
All I’ve done since arriving here is focus on work, which leaves little room for anything else. Just as I place my bag on the desk, Nieves, one of the counselors in the clinic, pops her head inside the room. “Veronica, they’re about to start the survival circle group,” she says gently. “I would love it if you could join us.”
My stomach knots as I nod. “Of course.”
