Page 11 of Before I Should Leave
I took the slip and stepped away from the counter with Diesel following. He didn’t say anything until we cleared the crowd, and then, he said, “I’ll stay wit’ you.”
I turned to him, brow raised. “What?”
“Hotel. I’ll ride it out, make sure you’re good. I just gotta talk to valet real quick to keep my truck overnight.”
“That’s… you don’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I know that, too.”
“So why stay?”
He looked at me like the answer was obvious. “Because I want to, Emani.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again and looked around the terminal like someone might pop up and tell me what the hell to say. “I don’t want to hold you up—”
“You’re not.” He didn’t move or even blink. He just waited for me to believe he meant that. I sighed, lips parted like I still had something to argue, but nothing came out. Diesel glanced down at his phone. “Lemme go handle my truck. I’ll be right back.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
Then I watched him jog toward the exit doors, his tall frame moving with purpose, hoodie damp from the rain, phone already at his ear as he disappeared into the curbside madness.
And for the first time since the moment I saw that cancelled notification, I stood there alone. My hand tightened around the handle of my luggage. My heart still beating a little too fast. My phone buzzed again, and it was Jonnae calling. I finally answered. “Hel—”
“Girl, what the hell?!” Her voice was already panicked. “Why am I just now getting a cancellation alert? I've been in this damn dry-ass sushi spot thinking you're on the way to Chicago!”
“I was, and then the airline decided to play in my face.”
“Is there another flight?”
“Nothing until tomorrow morning.”
“Shit,” she muttered. “Shit. Okay, okay, so you’re staying out there? Where are you? Do you need me to call—”
“I’m staying at the airport hotel. They comped me a room.”
“Okay. Good. Okay. And that driver? Is he still there? He didn’t just leave you, right?”
I glanced toward the glass doors, heart doing something I didn’t like. “He’s handling his truck,” I said, my voice softer. “But… yeah. He’s, uh... he's staying.”
There was a pause on her end. “So… let me get this straight,” she finally said, slow and suspicious like she was building a case. “You’re stranded at the airport… in the middleof a thunderstorm… and the man who drove you there is now staying...overnight?”
I sighed, shifting my weight and looking away from the glass doors like doing that would make her less annoying. “Jonnae…”
“No, no. Don’t ‘Jonnae’ me,” she said, already giggling. “Girl! What kinda rom-com soft-core Black movie of the year are you in right now?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Mmm. But you see howfinehe is?” I didn’t answer. “See,” she said, laughing louder. “That silence is loud. And you didn’t deny itagain.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s just making sure I’m good.”
“He can make sure that pu—”
“Jonnae.”
