The wheels of my bag clack against the floor as I tug it behind me. People crowd around the doors past the security cordons, holding signs and balloons for their loved ones. A smile spreads across my face at one little girl, holding a bear that dwarfs her, waving a still-chubby hand at someone returning home.
A couple embraces near me, one woman wiping away the other’s tears before they kiss, leaning their foreheads together.
This. This is real—this crowded, too-busy airport, teeming with people reuniting.
What would it be like to have someone look at me like I was their person? That I created a hole in their life while I was gone?
What would it be like to be worthy of a love like that?
My throat closes up.
One of the women glances in my direction, and I offer a small smile before looking away from their hug.
“Abigail?” A familiar voice calls my name, and surprise drops my jaw.
“Oh my god, Darren,” I cry out, jogging awkwardly, my luggage trailing behind me like a clumsy puppy. “You did not have to pick me up. I thought the studio was sending someone,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him. He smells like sandalwood and vanilla, and I breathe it in.
“I figured you might need a friend,” he says. Then he jerks hishead toward the black-suited man behind him. “It’s not like I drove. I just decided to come along.”
“I’m glad you did.” I squeeze him again, in desperate need of touch.
He gives me a long look, and I swallow hard under his perusal. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly, pushing my hair back behind my ear.
“For such a good actress, you really are a terrible liar.”
I finally let him go and give him a watery smile.
Darren tucks me under his arm, and we follow the driver to the waiting car. “It’s okay if you’re not okay.”
“It’s stupid,” I argue. “We had, what, one good week together?”
“You liked him. He hurt you, and you made…a few choice choices.”
“I did like him,” I whisper.
“Have you…talked to him? He was frantic when you were sick, Abs. I don’t think…” He pauses, shaking his head as we both get in the car.
“You don’t think what?” I prod, clicking my seat belt into place.
The car bounces slightly when the driver sets my luggage in the trunk and slams it closed.
He sighs, stretching his legs out, then fixing me with a serious look. “It might have started as something they put him up to for a publicity stunt. I’m not saying he was right for that.”
Silence unspools between us. Darren’s jaw twitches, and he twists his mouth to the side, considering me.
“But?”
“But I think he cares about you.”
“Cared, maybe,” I correct. “Past tense. If he cared about me, he would have apologized by now.” It comes out bitter, and the words leave a foul taste on my tongue.
“Oh?” Darren cocks an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms over hischest. “And how did he take it when you apologized for trying to make his life hell?”
“Something you were a willing partner in,” I grouse.
“Don’t deflect.”