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“Will get to spend more time with their Ya-Ya.” Her mom had tears in her eyes. “I’m proud of you too, sweetheart.”
As good as it felt to have her family’s support, it would’ve been so much better if she could call Monk and give him the news. But she couldn’t, because she hadn’t been brave enough to share her dreams with him. Since they were flying back to the East Coast, maybe she’d have time to see him. If she did, she’d tell him all of it and hope he understood better than she did why it took her so long.
—:—
Onyx had been moved to a room on the rehab floor, which meant the number of visitors he could receive at a time had doubled. The nurses, however, reminded them that a hospital was no place for the party that was currently taking place.
“Too bad Saylor isn’t here to toast with us, but Mantis was anxious to get back,” said Merrigan, clinking her glass of sparkling wine to Monk’s.
“What do you mean?”
“I think she was hoping they’d have a layover.”
Monk looked from Merrigan to Doc, who appeared to be following their conversation. When Monk walked out to the hallway, Doc followed.
“What’s she talking about?”
“We’ve offered Saylor a permanent pilot slot as soon as she completes her final commercial test.”
Monk leaned back against the wall. “She didn’t say anything.”
“We didn’t talk to her until this morning. I know Mantis mentioned it to her yesterday, but maybe she wanted to wait until she knew for sure,” said Merrigan, who had joined them in the hall.
“I gotta go,” he said, pushing off from the wall. Rather than wait for the elevator, Monk looked for the stairwell. He ran down the nine flights of stairs and stalked out the hospital’s front entrance. He walked by his building and kept going. Nothing about the conversation he had with Doc and Merrigan made any sense. When in the hell had Saylor become a pilot?
Monk had been walking over an hour when he found a park bench under a tree. He pulled his phone out but just stared at the screen. If he called, what would he say? He sure as hell couldn’t send her a text. Plus, didn’t Doc say she was already flying back to the West Coast?
The sick feeling in Monk’s stomach got worse. Before he put his phone back in his pocket, he turned it off.
28
“I’m sure you’re way overthinking this,” said Poppy. “He’ll be thrilled for you.”
“I’m not sure.”
“No offense to either of you, but it isn’t like either of you communicate very well.”
Saylor glared at her friend. “That isn’t fair.”
“It isn’t? The man comes back from butt-fuck Egypt and doesn’t bother to get in touch with you when he does, even to say he’s planted himself at his comatose friend’s bedside and, by the way, Merry fucking Christmas.” Poppy shook her head. “You aren’t any better. Did you call him? Hell, no. You just ‘understood.’ Well, yo
u shouldn’t have understood.”
“Are you finished?” Saylor asked, folding her arms.
“No. There was a reason you didn’t tell him. Think about that for a minute.”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”
“I don’t know Monk very well, because he never talks, but how does that even work? Do you know anything about his life?”
“He’s told me things he never told anyone else.”
“Okay, let’s say that’s true.”
“Are you serious? Why would I lie?”
“I don’t know, Saylor. Why would you?”
