Page 37 of Holiday Romance
“Never mind then.”
“I’ve been concentrating on myself,” I tell him.
“Have you now?” He smiles slightly. “And what does that look like?”
“I do hot yoga on Sunday mornings. And I get a massage every second Tuesday.”
“Swedish?”
“Deep muscle.” I grimace. “Usually because I’ve strained something in hot yoga.”
He smirks. “Well, I’m glad you’re not dating anyone. It means I get you all to myself.” He sits up as he speaks, stretching his arms over his head. The movement lifts his T-shirt, revealing a thin band of skin just above his jeans that suddenly has me furious.
I snap my gaze away, my jaw clenching in a way my dentist wouldnotbe happy about. “So, you want me to be alone then, is that it?”
He pauses. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It sounds like you did.”
Andrew goes quiet beside me, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. My anger disappears as quickly as it came, leaving me tired and embarrassed and still so very, very confused.
“Sorry,” I say after a long moment.
“Me too. I really didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“I know. I just…” Need to get away from him. “I’m going to go stretch my legs and text Zoe.”
“Molly—”
“I’ll be right back.” I stand so fast my vision swims, but I ignore it as I stride off, limping slightly from a dead leg. I focus on the pins and needles so I don’t focus on him and march down the terminal before taking an abrupt left at a restroom sign.
The hallway is empty and thankfully so is the ladies’ room. So, as millions of equally confused women have done before me, I lock myself in the first stall, sit with a huff on the toilet lid, and just… ugh.
Maybe I drank too much. Maybe I’m tired and I’m stressed and I had one too many glasses of champagne. That can be the only explanation for why I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind. Because Andrew and I…
Sometimes I feel like he’s been the one constant in my life since I moved to this city. Through the chaos of my early twenties, of finding my way, finding myself, he’s always been with me. Maybe not physically. There were years I only saw him a handful of times, but he was always there. I could always talk to him. Could always moan to him. Could always celebrate and commiserate. And now I’m hiding from him in an airport bathroom.
I shouldn’t have kissed him.
Whydid I kiss him?
I close my eyes, dropping my head to my knees as I feel the beginnings of a headache forming at my temples.
I’m just not going to think about it. That’s what I’m not going to do. Instead, I’m going to compartmentalize and focus on getting us back to Ireland and then,then, I am going to quit my job and book a vacation and on that vacation I will eat a lot of food and I will fall in love. I will fall in love with a masseuse and he will be very handsome and have an impeccable dress sense and won’t be confusing at all.
But for now, I compartmentalize.
I stay there for as long as is socially acceptable and only then force myself to move in case I miss boarding. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead do nothing to help my confidence. I’ve been playing with my hair all night and it now hangs limply around my face, while my makeup has all but melted into my pores. I look like a mess. Which is understandable and not something I would usually care about with Andrew, but now I feel uncharacteristically self-conscious as I wet a paper towel and wash my face as best I can. It doesn’t help that I’d changed clothes back in O’Hare, trading my skirt and blouse for sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. They’re comfortable but aren’t exactly helping the whole girl-in-the-before-photo vibe. Especially when there’s not going to be an after photo anytime soon.
I give up on my halfhearted makeover, practice my I’m-totally-normal-and-just-a-little-tired smile, and open the restroom door, fully committed to acting like everything’s fine and—
“Finally.”
Andrew’s waiting outside.
I freeze when I see him and he scowls when I do, straightening from his slump against the wall as I stand there like a cornered mouse.
“Alright,” he says, peering down at me. “What the hell is going on with you?”
