“I don’t know…”
Alex reached over and squeezed her hand. “You deserve better, Sydney.”
She knew he was right. Sydney looked down at him. His head was heavily bandaged, but he still managed to look ruggedly handsome. She leaned down and kissed him on the lips. Alex reached up and placed his hand on her cheek as they lingered for a moment, lips locked in place. She felt electricity course through her body, awakening something within her that she had kept buried.
Sydney heard the click of the door handle and pulled back. Inspector O’Connell made a loud entrance into the room. Not only did his wide girth seem to fill the room, his presence seemed to overshadow anything else the light touched. Sydney leaned back, away from Alex, as if being caught kissing a middle school boyfriend.
“Alex, glad to have you back with us,” O’Connell said, making a direct path toward him. He reached down and shook his hand firmly. Sydney guessed that was as warm and friendly as the inspector got.
“Sydney,” he said, nodding in her direction. “Might I have a few words with Alex?”
“Sure,” she said. She leaned down and gave Alex a quick kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be a stranger.”
O’Connell raised an eyebrow at her as she walked out of the room. She breezed down the hospital hallway, a bit lighter on her feet than when she had entered. As she pulled out her phone to call an Uber, she thought about what that kiss meant. Maybe there was more there between them or maybe not. But after everything Alex had done for her, the kiss was well deserved.
A few minutes later Sydney was ducking into a silver four-door sedan with an Uber sticker on the front. She was ready to get to the airport, join Marissa, and leave Jamaica behind for good. The driver was wearing a Chicago Cubs baseball cap. Sydney noticed it as she stepped into the car.
Sydney caught up on emails and direct messages as they drove. When they were about five minutes from the airport, she finally spoke to the driver.
“Are you a Cubs fan?” she asked politely.
“I used to be,” he said, looking in the rearview mirror. When she caught a glimpse of his brown eyes, her heartbeat froze in her chest.
“Jack? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Don’t worry, Sydney. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye? Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet, but I need a fresh start.” He flicked his turn signal on and they made a right turn into a large airport terminal. “I’m sure you need one too.”
Sydney sat in silence, too stunned to speak. There were so many words that she could have said, feelings she could have shared. But it didn’t matter now; she had changed. Jack didn’t hold the same meaning in her heart anymore.
As Jack stopped her in front of the private terminal, he jumped out of the car. He ran around the side and pulled the door open for her. She could smell the heat from the concrete drive mixed with his oaky, cinnamon scent. She had always loved the way he smelled.
As he peered up at her from under his baseball cap, he said, “I’m sorry Sydney, for everything.” He touched her arm lightly as he spoke.
“I know,” said Sydney, remaining perfectly still. “I…forgive you.” She pulled her vintage bag a little tighter to her body as she moved toward the airport hangar. She could almost see a faint sheen of tears over his eyes, but he said nothing.
“Goodbye, Jack.”
“Goodbye,” he said.
And with that, Sydney turned her back and walked toward the private jet waiting for her.
Forty-Four
Sydney
Sydney leaned back into the caramel leather seat next to the jet window and tried to get comfortable. She should have been comfortable; the seats were probably filled with down. She ran her hand down the arm rest, watching as the long airplane hangars zoomed past her, occasionally punctuated by a cluster of palm trees. She was finally leaving Jamaica behind. She had only been there a few days—less than a week total—but it had seemed like an eternity given the epic events that had transpired during her stay.
In many ways she was a different Sydney than the one who had left Chicago last week. She didn’t need an Ambien; she needed clarity. She felt stronger and more sure of herself in some ways, in others she felt exhausted and jaded.
As the palm trees grew small on the ground beneath her, she thought about her next steps.
She still loved fashion, as was evidenced by the hour she spent getting ready this morning, curling her hair, splashing on her makeup, and pulling on her favorite cashmere sweater. She had even managed to post a photo on her site, which felt superficial and decidedly fake. But the reality was, she still had bills to pay and she couldn’t just throw all the work from the last few years out the window. But she knew she couldn’t go back to that perfect life she had portrayed. She wanted something real. She thought about writing a book, telling her experience as an average girl who was wrestled into the workings of an international criminal.
“Champagne?” she heard Marissa say as she walked into the main cabin.
“Yes, thanks,” she said.
Marissa placed two fluted glasses on the table between them and began to pour. As she sat down across from her, Sydney smiled.
“So, I guess Jack and Ethan turned out to be different from who we thought they were,” Sydney said as she tipped her glass back into her mouth. Marissa sighed.
“I knew Ethan was a bit of a bad boy. I guess that was a part of him I was attracted to.” She looked out the window. “But I had no idea how bad he really was. I guess I have a lot to learn about people.”
“You’re telling me. I thought I had the perfect life. I was so focused on impressing a bunch of people I didn’t even know, I missed all the lies that were piling up around me.”
Marissa looked at her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Syd.”
Sydney smiled. “I wish Lizzy was here.”
“Me too,” she said, cocking her head as her eyes welled up with tears. Marissa held up her glass in the sunlight that was peering through the windows. “To Lizzy.”
“To Lizzy,” Sydney responded, tipping her glass to meet Marissa’s. “And to the truth.”