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Margot doesn’t say anything though I can hear her breathing on the other end of the line.
“Mom, please do this for me, and I promise to tell you everything when I get back.”
“Does this have anything to do with the Raven Mission and Everly Simard?” Her pointed tone pricks at me. Clearly, a night’s sleep hasn’t lessened her distaste for my career choice.
That’s okay. I have confidence we’ll get there. Once she gets past her fear of embarrassment, she’ll see the good we can do. My mother has a place in this work—I know it—and I hope one day she realizes it too.
“No. Mom, this is personal.”
“Fine. I’ll text you an estimated time of departure once I’ve spoken with Carmine.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
Once I’ve got my bag and I’m on my way to the airport, I make another call to Doctor Hemming. I’d texted her before driving away from August’s home asking to chat. With less than an hour to go before I’m in the air, I need all the help I can get.
Doctor Hemming and I talk right up until I’m seated on the jet. Her calm, supportive words of reassurance give me the courage I need. But once off the phone, the plane taxiing along the runway, I swear I’m going to be sick.
I could take a valium to help me relax. Dr. Hemming says there is no shame in that, but if I take it then I’ll be numb and a little disoriented when I see Tom. I don’t want that. Instead, I focus on my breathing and the grounding techniques the doctor taught me.
As the plane takes off, I pull up a picture of Tom. The same one I took when Fallon goaded me. His image and the anticipation of seeing him somehow stills my heart, steadies my nerves, and gets me through the short plane ride.
* * *
Windswept and still buzzing from the fear and high of flying, I bolt up from the chair in the hotel lobby alcove on wobbly legs at first sight of the crown of his mussed, golden head, then his casual, confident gait, and oh, his laugh.
He’s deep in conversation with Drew, both animated and smiling. I step onto the marble walkway right in the path of Tom and his family and friends. He’s here, in front me. Finally.
Exhausted and weirdly exhilarated by the day’s roller coaster of emotions, I’d spent the past several hours waiting for Tom in the hotel lobby. While I knew the game was still on and I wouldn’t miss him, I didn’t dare leave my spot.
During some of that time, I paced the space in front of the chair in what feels like the equivalent of a half marathon. Eventually, lightheaded and sickly, I sat down and once again, went back to the techniques I’d learned during therapy. Some of it helped, but I never fully settled, not when I anticipated his arrival at any minute.
Now he’s here, and a tiny hopeful voice in my head reminds me to squash any past doubts and fears. So what if he isn’t thrilled to see me. Or never wants to talk to me again. I have so many things I need to say to him. So many things I need to say for me.
Tom and I stare intently into each other’s eyes. Volumes of emotion, an echo of our entire time getting to know each other, pass between us in what feels like an eternity. But in reality, it’s more like a blink of an eye.
Shock and wariness are evident in not only the taut square of his shoulders but his words. “Leighton. What are you doing here?”
31
TOM
“Hi.” Leighton sheepishly waves, and a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.
“I, uh, had to see you. You weren’t answering my texts or calls and I didn’t know where you were.”
The sight of her softens the jagged edges of the gaping hole in my chest left by the vision of Felix all over her.
I sense her urgent need to talk, but we’re standing in the middle of the lobby. No privacy at all.
“Let’s go to my room.” I lead the way to the elevators.
Silently, we ascend to my floor. I’ve got a thousand questions and can’t seem to focus on only one. I still can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that she is here.
Once inside my room, the second the door clicks shut, she starts and barely pauses to breathe let alone give me a chance to talk. Her words tumble from her mouth like a gushing waterfall, and I can’t keep up or comprehend what she’s saying.
She mentions August, TIFF, her parents, and her flight. Like I’m hit by a bolt of lightning, my whole body jerks. Her flight?
“Wait a sec.” I hold up both my hands in the universal sign for stop. “You flew here?”
