“Okay, boys,” she said, glancing between the five members of Noctis. They still had another hour before their gate opened. “Behave yourselves.”
“We’re always good,” Thump protested with a pout.
Clara muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Yeah, right.”
They all stood, forming a loose circle around the two of us. Mick, Ghost, and Thump had been filled in on everything that morning, and despite my nerves, I’d had nothing to fear. They’d hugged me while I cried, brushed off my apologies for lying, and told me I didn’t owe them a thing.
Thump had cried too, then promptly informed me I was still hot, substance abuse issues and all. It made me laugh despite myself. He didn’t mean anything by it. He never did. It was just Thump being Thump. A lovable idiot with no filter and even less tact.
A bit like me, I supposed.
Just like Bodhi promised, they’d shown up for me. Reassured me they’d still be there when I walked out of rehab in three months for the second time. Knowing that had made it easier to pack up my things with Bodhi’s help.
I wasn’t taking much. Just a small duffle bag filled with comfortable clothes. The rest of my belongings would be shipped home to Gloria over the next few days, along with my makeup kit that was currently travelling with Dylan and the crew to Rome. Bodhi and Clara had arranged everything, and I’d barely had to lift a finger.
And now it was time to say goodbye.
I hugged Thump and Mick first. Mick pressed a hastily scribbled list of book recommendations into my hand, in case I got bored at the Willow. Thump swore he’d fight Bodhi for phone time on Sundays.
Ghost handed me a care package of duty-free sweets and apologised, yet again, for the painkillers. Naturally, I told him I was the one who should be sorry. For lying and lashing out. For putting everyone in a position they never asked to be in.
When we’d finished saying our goodbyes, all of our eyes were wet. Then Bodhi, Clara, and I left the lounge and followed the long stretch of gates.
I watched the planes through the glass, lined up and waiting to be filled. Families clustered together, children bouncing with excitement. Groups of friends laughed as they talked about holidays, reunions, home. All the while, I let Bodhi tug me along, trusting him to lead me where I needed to go, memorising the warmth of his hand in mine in case this was the last time I’d ever feel it.
A queue had already formed at our allotted gate. Flight attendants checked passports and boarding passes, ushering passengers through the double doors one by one.
Clara squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll go get in line,” she said gently, her eyes flicking between me and Bodhi. “Come and join me when you’re ready.”
I nodded and watched her disappear into the queue.
Then it was just us.
Me and Bodhi.
I turned to him, tears already slipping down my cheeks. He smiled softly and wiped them away with his thumb, even as his own eyes shone. Without thinking, I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his chest. He hugged me back just as tightly, like he was trying to memorise me. My weight. My shape. The way I fit against him.
We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. We’d said everything already, earlier that morning, without words.
Eventually, Clara waved me over. There were only a few people left ahead of her.
Knowing we were out of time, I cupped Bodhi’s face and pulled him in for one last kiss. His tongue brushed my lips, familiar and gentle, and I sighed into it, tasting mintytoothpaste and the faint sweetness of the smoothie he’d bought earlier.
“I’ll miss you,” I whispered when we broke apart, my voice cracking.
“I’ll miss you too, Iggy Pop,” he said, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, his thumb pressed over my pulse like he was grounding himself.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” I blurted, panic bleeding into my words. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, y’know, for me to—” I gestured vaguely at myself. “To get better. I’ll understand if it’s too long. If you—” I swallowed hard. “If you move on without me.”
Bodhi’s eyes widened. For a heartbeat, he didn’t say anything, and as Clara called my name, fear flared that I’d ruined this. That I’d said the wrong thing at the worst possible moment.
Then he smiled. Big and bright. A single tear slipped down his cheek.
“You’re an idiot sometimes, Iggy,” he said with a quiet chuckle.
“I—I . . .” I stumbled, unsure how to respond.
He pulled me into another embrace, leaning in so his words were meant only for me.
