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I smiled to myself as I arranged for an Uber.Not as good as mine.
Okay, you first.
The incoming picture made my heart sink to the floor. It was a selfie of Lark, smiling and lovely as ever... in a fucking airport. The large windows in the background provided a clear view of airplanes and a tower behind her.
No. No no no no no. This can’t be happening.
Please tell me you’re still in LA.
I watched as three bubbles appeared and disappeared four times. Then... nothing.
Lark, are you in LA?
Finally, a text came through.
Lark
I wanted to surprise you and Penny. I thought you’d be happy.
I immediately dialed her number. When it connected, I didn’t even let her get a word in. “Are you in LA?”
“Wyatt. Hey. Yes, look... if you don’t want me to make the trip, just say so. I—”
“Where are you?” The words rushed out harsher than I’d intended, but Ihadto see her. Immediately. Relief that she hadn’t left the city flooded over me.
Emotion filled her voice. “LAX. My plane is boarding in five minutes.”
Five fucking minutes.
“Donotget on that plane.” My eyes scanned the screens as I searched for outgoing flights from LA to Chicago. One of them had to be hers.
Gate 28. Five minutes.
I took off like it was fourth and goal in the fourth quarter and hauled ass toward the gate. Ignited by excitement and my love for Lark, I wove around luggage carts and families with slow-ass children. I was sure I looked crazed, but I couldn’t fuck this up. She deserved the big act of service, the words of affirmation—all of it. I needed to show her in every way how much she meant to me.
As I approached the gate, the flight attendants were scanning the boarding passes of the last remaining passengers. Lark wasn’t among them.
“Hold up! Wait!” I called between sucking in breaths of air.
One flight attendant looked at me, startled. “Are you on this flight, sir?”
“No, I—” I bent over, sucking wind, and was convinced I was going to puke all over the startled flight attendant.
“I’m sorry, sir. Boarding is over. If you’re not a ticketed passenger, I am going to have to ask you to leave.”
Damn it! Why did I hang up? I should have told her I was here so she’d stay.
“Are you Wyatt Sullivan?” A young kid wearing my old NFL jersey walked up to me, looking hopeful and a little stunned at my erratic behavior.
I straightened and exhaled. “Yeah.”
He held out a piece of paper and a pen. “Do you think... ?”
Anger burned in my throat. I’d fucked it up. I bit back my annoyance and tried to focus on the young fan in front of me. I hastily scrawled my name across the paper and offered it back with a thin smile.
“Thanks, man. I’m excited to see what you do with the Midwest Michigan team.”
I nodded woodenly as my hands dropped. A small crowd had gathered once people started to realize I wasn’t just some late passenger, but someone worth getting an autograph from. Murmurs and whispers surrounded me, and I felt like an asshole.
