The plane shook again and this time it was accompanied by a stomach dip. The pilot was on the overhead speaker in the next beat, informing us that we were beginning our descent into Atlanta and the rest of the ride might be bumpy. Equal parts relief and dread washed over me.
We were almost home.
Fuck, we were almost home.
Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t watch her fake it anymore.
Yet, I would.
Day after day.
Until I took my final breath. Because not having her in my life wasn’t an option. It would suck. It would hurt. It would shatter me. But I’d do it. I would fucking be there for her.
At least, that had been my mindset before I realized the world owed me nothing.
There had been so many times over the last few months when I’d told myself we were at rock bottom. Things couldn’t possibly get worse. However, being engulfed by the flames of hell once didn’t mean you were exempt from them in the future. The odds of lightning striking the same place twice were so small it should have been an impossibility. But it must have happened at least once for there to have been odds at all.
As I listened to Sally clicking her seat belt and the flight attendant collecting trash up and down the aisle, I was oblivious that it was about to happen again.
If I’d known—if only I’d fucking known.
I would have grabbed her face and told her that, despite everything we’d been through, loving her was the single best thing I’d ever done in my life.
I would have dropped to my knees and begged for her forgiveness for not having been more patient when she’d needed me.
I would have kissed her and made sure she knew that, no matter what happened, there would never be a day when I didn’t love her with my whole heart.
I would have pulled her into my arms. I would have made sure she wasn’t scared. I would have made sure my Sally went out of this world cocooned in the very same unconditional love she’d always offered me.
We weren’t a hundred years old after having spent the better part of a century together. We didn’t have kids, much less grandkids. There was no porch swing. There was no crawling into bed together before whispered I-love-yous. But dammit, if I had only known it was the end, I’d have gone with her. Wherever it was, whatever that looked like. I just wanted to be with her.
However, I didn’t know.
So, when she leaned in close, the scent of alcohol ghosting over my cheek as she murmured, “Come on, Bowen. I know you didn’t fall asleep that fast,” I pushed her away.
I didn’t even open my fucking eyes to steal one last glance.
“Leave me the fuck alone, Sally.”
Yeah. That was what I said to her. The very last words I said to the woman I loved more than my own life were “Leave me the fuck alone, Sally.”
And hers to me?
She sighed, kissed my cheek, anchored her hand to my thigh, and mumbled, “Right. Love you too, jerk.”
The world owes you nothing.
I knew this because, not ten minutes later, it stole my entire life.
Bowen
My hands rested motionless on the keyboard, a spreadsheet open, but my eyes were aimed at my desk. Staring without seeing, I’d been sitting there for hours. A million thoughts swirled in my head, crashing and colliding, ricocheting off each other. I was too numb to make sense of anything.
It was all so fucking empty.
My life. My chest. My ability to put one foot in front of the other without feeling like I was going to buckle under the pressure of it all.
But there I was at work, wearing my best façade to hide the agony, when all I really wanted was to disappear.
“Bowen?” Emily, my new secretary, called over the intercom.
I startled, straightening my tie before clearing my throat to reply, “Yeah. What’s up?”
“Your mom is on line one.”
No surprise there. It was a miracle I’d almost made it all the way to noon without her blowing up my phone.
Sighing, I scrubbed a hand over my beard. I’d been growing the damn thing for over a month, but after thirty-two years of sporting the smooth-as-a-baby’s-butt look, it still felt foreign. Truthfully, I hated it, but I’d desperately needed a change. Something, anything to make the outside feel as different as the inside.
Sally would have hated it too.
I screwed my eyes shut and let out a loud groan.
Leave me alone, Sally.
Just thinking of her sliced me to the core. It had been six months since the plane crash, yet the searing pain made it feel like only yesterday that I’d lost her. It never changed or disappeared. It hadn’t even faded with time the way everyone swore it would.
