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‘I can’t. I have my family, my job, commitments.’
He nodded, his eyes suddenly sad. ‘I know.’
‘Stay,’ I breathed, shocking myself as much as him. ‘Cash in your ticket and stay.’
I liked the way he paused much longer than I had, before sadly shaking his head. ‘I can’t. I have plans, commitments.’
Brown eyes that I could have lost myself in for ever locked on to mine.
‘Our timing sucks.’
I nodded, suddenly far closer to tears than I realised.
‘It does. It really does.’
His arms tightened around me as the PA system burst into life with a message that sounded urgent. ‘Will passenger Finn Douglas, travelling to Sydney via Singapore, please proceed immediately to Gate 28.’
I stiffened in his arms. ‘They’re calling for you.’
He nodded, and there was a sadness on his face as he bent his head and kissed me harder this time, with an urgency that left my lips tingling.
‘I have to go.’ I nodded, suddenly unsure if my voice was up to the task of replying. ‘This isn’t over. I don’t even know what it is, but it’s not over.’
And then, without another word, he scooped up his bag and ran towards the entrance to Security. He never looked back and yet I stayed there, in the middle of the terminal, for a very long time, hoping that he would.
*
‘I’m sorry, but they’re about to close the doors on the plane.’
I was jerked back to the present. Standing before me was the kind-faced check-in lady, the one who’d clearly been told my story by her colleague.
‘If you’re going to get on the flight, you have to do it right now.’
I shook my head sadly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
She nodded and spoke briskly into the walkie-talkie in her hand. She turned as though to return to the desk, then paused, a look of sympathy on her face.
‘He didn’t show up then?’
For a moment I wasn’t sure if she meant for the wedding or for the flight. It didn’t much matter. It was the same answer either way.
‘No. He didn’t.’
*
‘Come back home, Gemma.’
I smiled sadly, cradling my phone against my ear. ‘This is my home, Dad.’
He cleared his throat several times, as though searching for and then discarding a variety of persuasive arguments. The one he eventually selected was a weapon so sharp, I didn’t see it coming.
‘Finn’s not coming back, sweetheart.’ How was it possible for the words of someone I loved to wound so deeply? ‘You have to accept that. He’s left.’
‘I can’t, Dad. I won’t.’ But even to my ears, it sounded like the denial of a child.
Dad’s sigh was raw, almost painful. ‘I don’t know what else to say to convince you. Finn’s cleared out his flat. He’s not answering his phone. None of his friends have heard from him. He’s done a runner, and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep on running.’
My dad, the saviour of spiders, the rescuer of half-mauled rodents, the man who didn’t have a single aggressive bone in his body, sounded ready to kill my fiancé should he ever reappear.
