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“Two weeks is fine. Is it a Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My hometown.”
“Back to Massachusetts, then. Are we driving or flying?”
“The rates for flights are ridiculous right now, so I was going to drive on principal.” It’s not that I didn’t have the money, but I didn’t want anyone volunteering to pick me up from the airport. I’ve had enough awkward car rides to last me a lifetime. Today's included. Though I’d take almost five hours in a car with Laurent, over twenty minutes in one with anyone of my family members.
“You can fly if you want.”
“Don’t couples usually arrive together?” He shot me a glance before focusing on the road. “You want this to be believable, then we arrive together. We should leave Friday.”
“Yes, that’s what I planned on.”
I knew this was the entire purpose of why we were together in the first place, but I hated the structure. I hated the rapid-fire questions and the lack of depth to our conversation. A part of me wished we could have easily fell into our old world where we joked and laughed and spoke for hours about everything and anything.
It was hard to realize we may never get that again, and the only person to blame was me.
“I’ll drive,” he said.
“I’m not having you put all those miles on this car.”
“I wasn’t planning on taking this car. It’s too small.”
“Good. My car has plenty of room.”
“We’ll take my Range Rover.”
“You have a Range Rover, too?”
“Do you think I can drive this in the winters here?”
“No, but… that’ll cost too much in gas.”
“I’m not worried about that.”
“Well, I am.”
“Then waste your time worrying, it’s decided.”
I huffed out a loud breath.
“What?”
“I forgot how controlling you can be.” I never thought it was a bad thing. Back then, I needed direction, and Laurent was good at keeping me on track, at being there and always knowing what to do. I might have relied on him a little too much. He had become my compass, guiding me through the darkness of my life.
“Do you still like chicken wings?” he asked.
I blinked at him, confused by the change in subject. “Honestly. I haven’t had them since college.”
“Why not? They were your favorite thing.”
“For one my metabolism isn’t what it used to be. They’re full of fat and cholesterol.” I ticked them off on my fingers.
“That’s what makes them so good.”
