Page 262 of What We Brave
"You treat airports like a military operation. Shoes off before you hit TSA. Laptop already out. That look on your face like you're clearing a building."
"It's efficient."
"It's terrifying. Last time, that family in front of us literally moved out of your way. The dad grabbed his kid."
"We made the flight."
"We were two hours early."
"And we made the flight."
He shakes his head. Zips the duffel — mostly. One corner of a t-shirt is sticking out. I look at it. Look at him. He sees me looking.
"Don't."
Not a fucking chance. I reach over and tuck it in. Zip it closed.
"Thank you," he says, not meaning it at all.
I sit on the edge of the bed. My duffel by the door, his disaster next to it. Tomorrow morning we're on a plane. A week in Guatemala. Noclients, no deadlines, no sawdust. Laine's parents, their village, and whatever a vacation looks like for three people who've never taken one together.
"You eat?" I ask.
"I had a thing."
"What thing?"
"A food thing. Earlier. Cereal adjacent."
"That's not dinner."
"It's dinner if you commit to it."
I'm about to argue when I hear Laine's keys in the front door. Her bag hitting the counter. Shoes off. The small sigh she makes when she's shifting from work-Laine to home-Laine.
I know this soundtrack. Didn't used to let myself pay attention to things like that.
Her footsteps come down the stairs. Slower than usual. She appears in the doorway and leans against the frame, arms crossed, watching us.
I wait for the smile. The soft one she gives when she first sees us. I fucking crave that smile.
It's not there.
There's a tightness around her mouth. Her eyes move from Reid to me and back.
"Can we talk for a sec?"
Reid's hand stops halfway into his backpack. My shoulders don't tense. They go still, which is worse.
"Yeah," I say. "What's up?"
She sits on the chair across from us. Not next to me. Not on the arm of the bed where she usually lands, close enough to lean into someone. Across.
That's when I know.
I don't knowwhatyet. But Laine Mitchell does not put distance between herself and the people she loves unless she's about to say something she thinks they won't want to hear.
Reid clocks it too. His eyes flick to me.
