“How so?”
“He became a lot more selfish, and he didn’t do little things for me like he used to. No random dates, no telling me I’m pretty just because, nothing.”
“I paid his way through law school and he was supposed to pay my way through journalism school once he finished. But instead of doing that, he changed his mind and decided that it didn’t make sense for me to go to journalism school. According to him, we needed to focus on building a life together, and he needed to focus on making partner at his firm as quickly as possible so he could make even more money. After that, ‘if I still wanted to go to pointless writing classes’ he said he’d pay for it. My credit is beyond shot right now, so I couldn’t get a loan for school if I wanted to, and—” I stop. Saying these words aloud makes my heart ache.
“I’m sorry.”
Shrugging, I lean back in my chair. “It’s not your fault,” I say. “It’s mine.”
All those years. All. Those. Years.
I was such a fool.
I’d wake up at the crack of dawn to catch a bus downtown, to wait tables at a premier hotel bistro all morning. Then, with backaches that never seemed to go away, I’d walk eight blocks to a dental office where I filed papers from noon until closing time. After that—usually around six or seven, I’d take a final bus to a private airport and lug lost luggage across the terminal.
I never complained to Adrian about working those three jobs. I never told him how badly my body ached day after day—partly because I was stupid in love, partly because I knew this was only “temporary.”
I knew the second he graduated from law school, the second he landed a job, that he would return the favor and help me pursue my dreams.
I was such an idiot.
Blake hands me his other gin and tonic, and I happily toss it back.
“I would have turned on my filter if you had mentioned it was such a bad break up,” he says.
“So, you do have a filter?”
“Yes.” He pulls the handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs my eyes with it. “It’s just hard to turn off when I see someone I’m highly attracted to.”
“I’m sure that happens quite often.”
“This is the first time in years.”
I blush and look away from him, refusing to let myself believe that over the last twenty minutes he’s made my body react so easily, that he’s had this much of an effect on me at all; I’d never felt this type of heated attraction with Adrian. Ever.
Now, I honestly want him to get my attention again, to strike up another conversation, but he doesn’t.
For the rest of the flight, he leaves me alone.
Three
“Ma’am? Ma’am?” A flight attendant is tapping me on my shoulder, shaking me out of my sleep. “We need to clear the plane for cleaning.”
I sit up, realizing that the plane has long landed and I’m the last one on board.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I notice a small piece of paper on my thigh. I flip it over and read the small scribbled note:
It was a pleasure meeting you, Paris. Have a safe flight to Boston.
—Blake
I’m not sure why I feel upset that he didn’t say goodbye (or wake me up), but I quickly brush away the thought. I have an hour to get to my next gate and I’m determined to be one of the first to board so I can finish my nap.
As I head through the connecting tunnel, I take out my phone and see that there are new voicemails: Five from my mother, two from my sister, and one from Adrian.
I listen to his first: “Seriously, Paris? Are you so immature that you can’t say no to my face? You needed to go across the country? I told you I was sorry about the grad school thing months ago and you’re still not over it? Is that what this is about? If it is, that’s bullshit. You and I belong together, and you know it. This is just another silly misunderstanding and I would appreciate it if you came back. Call me when you land so I can fly you home and we can talk...Remember that the ring is two carats. I spent a lot of money on it, so I think you should be more grateful. Talk to you soon.”
Typical Adrian.
No “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right between us,” no “I love you” at the end.
Nothing.
I don’t bother listening to the other voicemails. I want to wait until I have some alcohol on standby. Until I can comfortably curse aloud and yell at anyone who dares to tell me that dumping Adrian is a bad move.
Too lazy to pull out my ticket, I look up at the wall of screens ahead and look for my gate.
Dallas, Orlando, Boston.
Gate F.
Delayed?
Great.
I squint my eyes so I can better see the number next to the gate, and a voice comes over the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen of Reagan International Airport, due to warnings from the National Weather Advisory Board regarding an incoming snowstorm, all of tonight’s flights have been indefinitely grounded. Please check with your airline’s respective desk agents for updates regarding rescheduling and for hotel accommodations, if you choose to leave the airport. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience, but please know that the safety of our passengers is our first and utmost concern.”
“What?” “Are they serious?” “Get the hell out of here!” “I need to get out of here tonight!”
Angry voices are heard everywhere, and everyone is pulling out their phones to relay the bad news.
Annoyed, I head to the nearest desk agent line and return my mother’s call.
“Paris!” She picks up on the first ring. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” She clucks her teeth. “Adrian’s been telling us how you threw him hints about marriage for a while and he was just waiting to buy the perfect ring. You broke his heart today by pulling what you did. Have you even called him? He looked so broken when David told us where you’d gone, when he said you knew all about the engagement party and chose not to show up. David even cried as he told us the story.”
I remind myself to punch David the next time I see him. “I’ll call Adrian later. I don’t feel like talking to him right now.”
“Why are you acting this way, Paris? Adrian is a great catch! He’s a lawyer now! I’m sure he’ll take great care of you, and he loves you!”
Holding back sighs, I try not to groan as she continues to list all the things that are not Adrian: Caring, considerate, and generous.
Unbeknownst to her, Adrian only cares about himself and the real reason he wanted to propose to me (in front of all his colleagues, mind you) was because it would move him up in the rankings at his firm for partner. I’d overheard him talking to one of his associates weeks after he landed the job, saying he’d do whatever it took to make partner in five years: “Even if it means I have to marry Paris earlier than I want to. Even if I’m not ready to commit to her for life.”
As far as being considerate? That’s laughable, along with the word “generous.”
Just as she’s in the middle of telling me how Adrian understands me like no one else can, the desk agent beckons for me to approach the counter.