Because she knew the truth. No matter what anyone else believed, Gwen would never choose her.
CHAPTER 22
Gwen
The airport wasall white noise — wheels clattering on tile, boarding announcements echoing off high ceilings, people hurrying all around them.
They stood in a loose circle near the security checkpoint they’d just shuffled through, between where their gates diverged, everyone rumpled and puffy-eyed from too little sleep, arms looped around carry-ons like lifelines. Pete and Izzy, the seasoned fliers of the bunch, looked calm and relaxed, while Danica held her boarding pass and her passport in her hand despite only being on a domestic flight. They were all traveling to Denver together, and Maggie and Gwen’s gate was in another area, leaving slightly later.
The hugs started. When it was Maggie’s turn, Gwen watched as she folded each of them tight into her arms, mascara smudging at the corners of her eyes. By the time she pulled back from Kiera, her voice cracked.
Pete patted Maggie on the shoulder, looking like a proud dad with a belt bag around her torso. “This is the first timewe all made it to the airport at the end of a trip without someone weirdly bailing first.”
“And I didn’t want to jinx it, but this is also the first time I’ve made it through a trip without a terribly embarrassing injury,” Maggie added.
They laughed, because it was true. Maggie had come home from their Telluride trip with a broken arm and showed up after the San Diego trip with a broken nose and two black eyes. Gwen also knew that usually someone disappeared before the last night, sneaking out early to avoid conflict or resolution. This time, against all odds, they were all here.
Gwen watched Maggie wipe at her cheeks, laughing through tears. It hit her in the chest — how much Maggie loved this group, how much she was already mourning the end of this trip, how much Gwen wasn’t sure she could give her.
She wanted to reach out. Say something. But she only adjusted the strap of her bag, keeping her face carefully composed.
“Text when you land,” Danica said, hugging them both again for good measure before tugging Pete toward their side of the gates. Izzy and Kiera trailed after, still hand in hand, still glowing with their renewed wedding excitement.
And then it was just Gwen and Maggie, the noise of the terminal rushing back in around them.
The others melted away, swallowed by the shuffle of shoes and the hollow calls of the boarding agents over the loudspeaker. It was just the two of them now, hovering by a row of molded plastic chairs, their bags at their feet.
Maggie sniffled, swiping at her cheeks with the heel of her hand. Gwen’s chest squeezed.
Without thinking, she reached out, brushing her fingers over Maggie’s shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly. “It’s okay.”
Maggie flinched — not a big movement, just a shrug sharp enough to make the contact fall away. Her mouth twisted intosomething that was almost a smile but didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, voice raw. “Don’t you have some work to catch up on?”
Gwen’s hand fell back to her side. She swallowed, steadying herself against the sudden hollow. “Maggie…”
But Maggie was already grabbing her bag, eyes narrowed on the departure board like it had personally wronged her.
Gwen stood there for a beat, rooted, the ache settling in her ribs. All her giddiness from that dawn light was gone now, replaced by the sharp reminder of why they were here, why Maggie had walked away in the first place. Gwen shouldered her own bag, forcing her face into its usual composure, and followed her toward their gate.
They walked in silence, past random clusters of slot machines with their volume up way too loud, families corralling kids, other couples dragging roller bags.
Maggie hitched her bag strap higher on her shoulder with a jerky movement. Her face was blotchy from crying, but her jaw was set.
“I think when we get back to Austin,” she said suddenly, not looking at her, “you should get your own apartment.”
The words sliced through the terminal din, clean and merciless.
Gwen stumbled for half a step before catching herself. She stared straight ahead, throat thick. She’d known this was coming — hell, she’d been bracing for it for months — but hearing it out loud was different. Final. “Maggie?—”
But Maggie was already speeding up, weaving through a knot of travelers, not giving her room to answer.
Gwen forced her legs to move, her breath steady, her face composed the way she’d trained it to be. Inside, though, it was unraveling. The fragile hope she’d let herself taste in that hotel bed, the giddiness that had bubbled up at dawn — it all collapsed under the weight of Maggie’s disappointment.
Her own apartment.
Separate keys. Separate lives.
By the time they reached their gate, Gwen’s chest ached so fiercely she thought she might actually break open. She sat down across an aisle from Maggie, folding her hands in her lap, pretending she wasn’t dying inside.
