Page 56 of Veiled Fantasies

She kissed him and hurried into the shower before his words set her off. She needed a good, cold shower to numb herself to the pain. And breath control—she needed that too—all the way down the elevator and out to the shuttle bus with Erik at her side, his arm around her shoulders.

“See you soon,” he whispered, resisting as she pulled herself free.

Her head was already throbbing with his words, all the more when he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“See you soon,” she mumbled, feeling like a cheat.

The minute the bus drove away, it all crushed in on her again. Her shoulder throbbed, as did the faint bruise on her cheek. Fear, pain, and shame egged each other on, wrestling in her gut. When her breathing threatened to veer into gasps, she imagined running endless laps, eyes closed tight. A suffocating eternity crept by until the bus tilted to a halt at the airport. Jill stumbled to the sidewalk and heaved great gulping breaths. Willing herself to focus on two safe-looking men in business suits, she followed them inside until she spotted a bathroom, where she locked herself into a stall for another attack of unstoppable tears.

When she finally worked up the resolve to emerge, Jill was so preoccupied with controlling her trembling that she didn’t notice it at first. The buzz in the air, a thousand busy bees going about pressing business. People everywhere, faces full of purpose. Every morning until now had been a silent waiting game, but now, things were moving.

Overnight, everything she’d wished for had come true. Her luggage was found. Departure boards were no longer showing red letters—canceled—but white numbers. Times. Flights were opening up. People were congratulating each other on the trial endured. They could all go home!

Only Jill had stopped wishing for those things a long time ago.

She jumped when someone nudged her elbow. Already at the front of the line? She stepped forward stiffly, a woman on her way to the gallows, not halfway home. She presented the flight vouchers in a half trance. Jill Bowden, bound for London. Louise Lewis and family, Manchester. Erik Bergstrom, Stockholm.

She was half expecting the usual rejection, but a sheaf of boarding passes came instead.

London at noon, one person.

Manchester at 2:00, family of four.

Stockholm at 3:00, one person.

After being in possession of her newfound luggage for less than an hour, Jill checked it straight back in and left. She would have to get moving if she was going to make it—first to Louise, then the hard part, Erik.

Hard? Crushing. She felt it already, constricting on her ribs.

Louise showered Jill with heartfelt thanks as she scooped up her children and headed for the airport with an uncharacteristic bounce in her step. Jill embraced the feeling, because she needed something positive to get her through the rest. What would she say to Erik? But when she got to his room, he wasn’t there.Out for five minutes, read the note.I’ll be right back.

She looked around. Room service had been in. The shades were drawn, and the windows locked fresh air out. The beds were freshly made, tight and hard, and the curtains veiled the familiar view. Everything was ready to receive the next occupants, as if she and Erik had never passed through. As if it had all been a dream.

She slumped down on a corner of one bed. Time to face facts.

Even the most beautiful mirage would eventually shimmer and fade, leaving the parched nomad alone in her harsh reality. She’d been kidding herself. Kidding herself that Dubai was safe, for one thing. Kidding herself about Erik, for another. He was a lovely guy, but it would never last. Good looks and a passionate fling were not the basis of a strong relationship.

And the other Erik? The scarred one, badly in need of someone to coax him out of his shell? She would leave that to Anna, or the next best substitute. Jill wouldn’t, couldn’t, live with being second best. She’d been there, done that with Roger. She’d make sacrifices for true love in a heartbeat, but only if she were more to Erik than a charity case. But it was not to be.

Her mind did a slide show, replacing Roger’s face with Erik’s, and she almost melted all over again. But a girl had to have some self-respect, even if the footprints she left on her way out were overflowing with tears.

She reached for a pen and turned Erik’s note over to the blank side, ready to write.

Write what? That goodbye was for the best? That this was the easy way?

*Stockholm at 3:00. Ticket here. I’m off to London at noon. Thank you for everything. Everything. Have a good trip. Love, Jill.*

She looked at the second to last word. Love. If this wasn’t it, then there was no such thing.

A sound rose up outdoors. It was a call to prayer, but for Jill, a call to get moving.

She didn’t leave any contact information. It was best if they did this quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. A flash of pain, then everything would be all right. She gathered up her things and left the room, forcing her eyes ahead as she squeezed the last drop of willpower out of her stuttering heart.

* * *

Erik made his way back up to the room, wishing the police hadn’t taken so long. Overly officious, those men, calling him down to the hotel manager’s office to follow up on his call from the night before. He kept his story short and vague, leaving Jill out entirely. She didn’t need any more trouble. He told them he made the call after overhearing a passer-by and had otherwise spent the night at work in his room. That was all he knew of the matter.

The police seemed satisfied with his story. The good news was, the criminal was back in custody. Erik maintained a composed expression as the police described the boy hero who led the way to the crook’s secret den. He could picture those wide saucers right now.

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