Page 89 of Run To You
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Sloane
Two weeks without having Eden close to me is paramount to torture. I know we had two years apart, but I was in a very different headspace then, and I didn’t think we’d ever have the opportunity to live out our happily ever after. This time is different because I guess, to some extent, we’re living our HEA right now.
The only problem is that we’re living it in different countries and time zones. Temporarily. I repeat that word endlessly when I’m struggling with the distance. Maybe at some point in our lives we’ll figure out how to have a relationship in the same space. Eden chuckles whenever Isay that to her, because it will happen. I just like to pout about the fact it isn’t happening right now.
Dropping Eden off at the airport was an experience I never want to recreate. I was seconds away from shouting “fuck it” and buying my own ticket. We shared several hot kisses before a woman waiting in line behind us had to clear her throat. She grinned at us like she knew exactly how it felt to separate from the person you love and get all dramatic about it.
Since Eden has been away I’ve worked my ass off for a couple of reasons. First, I’ve taken on three more private physical therapy clients. I’ve had to arrange my time carefully as Holcroft is now in session and I work there at least four days a week. Second, because I plan to fly over to the UK in a couple of days and needed to curry some favor with Mr. Porter. He’s a great coach, and I owe him for setting me up with this job, but my heart is telling me I need to get to Eden sooner rather than later.
Her Gran is scheduled for her double mastectomy. Far later than first thought, but that’s the NHS for you, according to Eden and her parents.
I’ve got all the paperwork completed and uploaded for the students I’ve treated. My private clients are aware I’ll be out of the country for a couple of weeks and havebeen super sweet about it. My parents have come around to the fact I’m no longer living close by and are starting to act like I’m a functioning adult again, which is great. Mom still stops by the apartment every few days to drop off food. Bella thinks it’s fantastic. Becca too, considering she’s being supplied with Doritos. It’s my mom’s way of coping, and that’s cool.
Todd helped me move all my boxes in the day after Eden flew out. It was a good excuse to see how he was coping, because the tension between him and Pia was at an all-time high. He didn’t divulge anything, and I didn’t want to poke too much. I’m going to talk to Eden and see if she’ll have a heart-to-heart with Pia. It’s horrible watching two of our closest friends struggle.
With my last day of work done I can concentrate on packing. Unlike my girlfriend, I’m very organized and have my suitcase ready to go in under an hour. My passport is in my bag, along with the taxi transfer confirmation for when I land. I’m ready to go. Just two more days.
“Sloane!” Bella bellows from her room.
It’s amazing how quickly I’ve gotten used to living with her.
I step out into the hallway, almost colliding with Bella, who is marching towards me in fluorescent pink cyclingshorts and a t-shirt that reads: I’M POISONOUS. She has a cereal bowl in one hand and a fistful of panties in the other.
“I have no idea what to take with me!” she declares.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply.
“Oh shit, I didn’t tell you. I’m coming to England with you.”
My shock is replaced with a wide grin. “Oh my god, that’s awesome.”
She snorts. “Of course it is.”
“Eden’s going to be blown away.”
“She needs her people. I should have gone with her in the first place. Out of all of us, I’m the one who can work from wherever.”
Shaking my head, I lead Bella back to her room, which is as close to a punk dungeon as it can be. There are piles of clothes everywhere, similar to when Eden tried to pack. It’s no wonder they get along so well.
“Eden needed to do this on her own for a little while, but I agree. She needs her people now. Have you booked a flight?”
“Yup, and guess who we’re sitting next to?”
“We?”
“Yeah, obviously Bec’s coming too. Pia really wanted to as well, but you know, she has a newborn demon to handle, so…”
Bec’s voice floats down the hallway. “We got aisle or window?”
Bella shouts back, “Both. I was on it, babe!” and throws her arms to the ceiling in a pose somewhere between victory and supplication. The milk from her cereal sloshes over her hand, and she licks it off without missing a beat.
I perch on the edge of her unmade bed, moving a pair of leather pants with a fork still stuck in a belt loop—not even going to ask—and try to picture all three of us crammed into the same economy row, hurtling over the Atlantic. It’s honestly the best image my brain has conjured in days.
“So what are you packing?” I ask, but Bella’s already whirling around her closet, pulling out articles of clothing and tossing them into a heap the size of a small child.
“I’ve got exactly three goals,” Bella says, counting off on pink-manicured fingers. “One, don’t look like a basic American. Two, bring Eden a treat she can’t get in England. Three, keep you from dying of lesbian longing in the next seventy-two hours.”
