My eyes burn from unshed tears. In that moment, two years ago, I was the happiest I’d ever been. I had just married the man I was going to share the rest of my life with—have kids with. A gracious, protective man who always put me first.
I replace the photo and look at my phone. I’ve called him several times and the few times he’s answered, he’s either been really busy or in a loud area and can’t hear me. I’m too nervous to just spring something like this on him out of nowhere and a part of me thinks I should just wait to tell him when I’m at the airport and boarding my flight, that way he can’t really say anything to stop me. I’ll be there and it’ll be happening. Gah, I’m so selfish.
I take out my cellphone and give John another call. It rings several times before sending me to his voicemail. I decide to leave one for him this time. Hopefully he listens to it when things are less chaotic.
“Hey John. So…um, listen. I think I’m going to go to Paris. It’s a last-minute trip, but Dr. Barad said it is okay for me to go and you can call him and double check if you want. I know you won’t be too happy to hear this,” I sigh. “And maybe by the time you do, I won’t be able to answer your call, but either way, I’ll call you as soon as I land. Please don’t be upset. I need this. I love you so much and I hope you kick ass at your competition.”
I hang up, guilt eating away at me for not telling him who I’m going to Paris with. But he’ll call back and he’ll ask, and I’ll tell him who I’m with. He won’t be pleased, but I will.
This trip is for me to get away—to stop betting on which day my life will end. Everyone dreams of doing something spontaneous in their life. Fulfilling a dream. I think I deserve at least some of that before I go.
I hang up and the front door swings open. Max charges in, picking up my suitcase as I slide my phone into my tote bag.
“You ready?” he asks.
I nod, turning to face him. He smiles down at me. “I’m really glad you’re coming, Shakes.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
Once I have the house locked up and the alarm set, we are in Max’s car and strapping our seat belts. He pulls out of the drive way slowly and it’s now when my pulse catches speed.
I can’t believe I’m really doing this.
It’s so crazy for me to travel hours away from my home—away from my doctor and the love of my life. It’s fucking insane, but honestly? This is what I want right now. I really, really want this. I can’t keep denying myself happiness. Maybe John will finish the competition early and he can fly there too…
I sigh.
What the hell am I thinking? That would never work.
I’m hoping once John hears my voicemail, he’ll understand and won’t overreact. I hope he accepts my reasons once I get the chance to explain.
I look at Max as he talks nonstop about the places we’ll explore and the things we’ll eat and the fun places he’s heard about. I smile at him. He’s making this happen. He should be proud.
We check in at the airport and board our plane, settling into first-class seats.
My phone rings as I place my tote bag on my lap and I fish it out. It’s John.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but we need all cellphones and electronic devices off or on airplane mode. We’re about to take off.” One of the flight attendants touches my arm, smiling kindly as she looks from my phone, to the tubing in my nose, and then into my eyes.
“Oh. Yes. Right. Sorry. I’ll shut it off right now.” I put the phone on airplane mode then tuck the phone away in my bag so the attendant can walk away.
“Come on, Shakes.” Max slouches back in his seat. “Tell the hound you’ll talk to him in a couple days. This time is all yours.” He thinks John already knows I’m on this trip with him.
I look at my phone again and a new message is there. Must have come through before I hit airplane mode.
John: What the hell are you thinking, Shannon!?
PARIS??? Do NOT go on that trip!
I breathe evenly through my nostrils as best I can, turning the screen of the phone off as the flight attendant walks past me again.
I turn to look at Max. His eyes are already closed but as if he feels my stare, he reaches over to place his hand on top of mine. I glance down at his hand, how his skin is about two shades lighter than mine.