Page 114 of Almost Yours
“Baby.” His voice is strained, immediately putting me on edge. “I’ve got bad news.”
I sink onto the edge of the bed, already knowing what he’s going to say. “You’re not coming, are you?”
“The airport’s a nightmare.” Frustration bleeds through his words. “All flights are grounded until further notice.”
“I’ve tried everything,” he goes on. “Private charters, connecting through other cities—nothing’s moving out of Mexico City right now.”
I watch another raindrop trace its way down the window, joining others at the bottom. Just like all my expectations for this trip, pooling into a puddle of disappointment.
“Violet? Say something.”
“What do you want me to say, Rowan?” I sigh. “It’s not your fault.”
“I’m so sorry, Violet.” His voice deepens with regret. “I know how important this is to you.”
This was supposed to be ours. Our first real trip together. The kind where we’d hold hands walking through cobblestone streets and steal kisses in ancient castles and laugh over pints in some cozy pub. Where I wouldn’t have to explain to every single person at the wedding why I’m here alone or have to field sympathetic looks from my cousin or dodge questions from my parents.
My throat tightens. I wanted him beside me when I walked into the rehearsal dinner. I wanted to introduce him to my extended family, watch him charm my grandmother, see him in a suit that would probably make me forget how to form coherent sentences. I wanted to dance with him at the reception.
Instead, I’m going to show up alone.
“I’m tired of this, Rowan.” The words spill out before I can stop them. “There’s always a reason why I have to wait. But I smile and tell you I understand because that’s what I always do.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I want to scoop them back up and smooth them out. My pulse thuds in the silence, and Rowan doesn’t rush to fill it.
“NowI’msorry.” The apology breaks on a sob. “That came out harsh.”
I rub my thumb along the edge of the phone, watching therain smear the world outside into watercolor. “I know you don’t do this on purpose. I know you’re trying.”
A breath. Then another.
“But I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” I admit. “Loving someone who’s always half gone. Missing dinners, weekends, the little things that make life purposeful. I don’t want to measure us in apologies and airport delays.”
His inhale is audible this time.
“I’m not giving you an ultimatum,” I add quickly. “I’m just… I need more presence than this. I don’t know how to make that work if this is always how it is.”
“I don’t want to lose you,” he says.
“I don’t want to lose us, either,” I say, and it hurts because neither of us sounds sure about where this goes from here.
“I just don’t see how I’m supposed to be everything at once.”
“That’s not what I’m asking for, Rowan.”
Another pause. He’s breathing harder now, like he’s pacing. “I’m trying, Violet. But every time we talk about this, it seems like no matter what I do, it’s never going to be enough.”
“I’m not asking you to be perfect! I just don’t think it should feel like I’m losing you every time you leave the house.”
“Maybe I’m just not that good for you.”
I hear my own heart break in two, a jagged snap that makes my chest ache like it’s physically splitting apart.
“Rowan…you don’t mean that.”
“I think I do, Violet,” he admits, voice breaking. “I’m just fucking this up. And I don’t want to hurt you, but I keep doing it anyway.”
I close my eyes, pressing the phone to my cheek like holding it closer might somehow make the distance disappear. My chest is hollow, but my mind is racing because Iknowhim. I know that guilt in his voice when he thinks he’s failing me.
