Page 181 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
I hop out of the car, following him to the trunk.
“Sorry,” I say about my ancient car. “You have to jiggle it a bit.”
He shoulders his backpack once it’s open and grabs his checked luggage. Opening the backseat door, I hear him tell Monroe he loves her. When she begins to cry, he does his best to comfort her, but there’s only so much he can do, because no matter what, he’s leaving.
“She’ll be okay,” I assure him, when he finishes hugging her.
“I know,” he sighs, staring at me.
We need to go our separate ways. I have no doubt we’re seconds away from being reprimanded, but it’s like neither of us can move.
Finally, he says, “I know Monroe is going to call me, but maybe you could call me some, too?”
“Maybe.” I’m not trying to be a tease, but I don’t know what’s going to be best for me.
“Maybe,” he repeats. “All right.” He nods. “I’ll take what I can get.”
He goes to walk away, but I grab his arm. “You’re not going to hug me goodbye?”
He cocks his head to the side. “I wasn’t sure you wanted that.”
“A hug would be okay.”
He lets go of his suitcase and wraps me into the tightest, warmest hug of my life. My body practically melts into him, sighing in relief because he feels like home.
When he lets me go, he’s grinning, and I’m glad at least we’re parting ways on a positive note.
“I’ll check in with you on my layover.”
“Okay. You better go.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, rubbing his jaw. He seems to be warring with something and yet it still takes me by surprise when he kisses my cheek.
With that, he wheels his suitcase behind him and heads for the entrance.
I’m sliding into the car when he looks back over his shoulder.
I lift my hand in a wave, and he does the same.
Then, he’s gone.
The ice cream shop is mostly empty when I park. When Monroe asked if we could stop for ice cream, there was no way I could tell her no. Not today.
There’s an excited skip in her step as we head inside. “Can I send a picture of my ice cream to my daddy?” she asks, eyeing up all the flavors behind the glass case.
“We can, but he might not get it until later.”
“I want that one.” She points to the pink and blue cotton candy flavor.
It’s finally our turn to order, so I let her tell them what she wants before I get my own. Sitting down at one of the bistro tables by the window, we dig into our ice cream. I think I needed this treat, too.
I’m halfway through my two-scoop order—it’s a multiple scoop kind of day—when Monroe lights up in front of me. “Jae!” she cries, hopping up from her chair and taking off in a sprint.
My head whips around to look behind me and sure enough, there he is, looking just as surprised as I do.
Monroe all but tackles him and he rocks back a step in surprise.
Neither one of us look away. There’s shock in his eyes, as I’m sure there is in mine, but there’s also unmistakable pain there. Pain I know I’m responsible for, so as much as I want to drop my gaze, I don’t, because I deserve to face his hurt head on.
