Page 96 of My Brother's Best Men
When we get to the airport, I see the guys in line at TSA. My mom and dad stay by my side, talking about mundane things like which cafe has the best cinnamon rolls in the terminal based on some article someone wrote online.
I watch the three of them, wondering if they know I’m here. If they do, they don’t look at me. They just stick together like a pack of wolves.
I walk my parents to their gate, my gaze finding the boys again immediately. Benny ignores me, Elijah glances my way, but looks away quickly.
But Matthew…
His gaze lingers.
My mother hugs me, pulling my attention. “Have a safe flight, baby,” she says.
My dad adds, “Please call us when you get home.”
“I will,” I promise them.
Matthew’s sad expression hurts my heart. He gives me a soft wave, and the tears threaten to fall all over again. I wave back at him, and then I see Elijah get up. He takes two steps, and I know I need to get out of here or I will break down in front of them, and I can’t do that. I need to do this. I need to go home and start this job and I need to see this through. For myself.
I take off for my gate, and none of them follow me.
Though part of me wishes they would.
After two connecting flights and over a day’s worth of travel, when I get back to Seattle, I call Melissa and ask if I can crash at her place until I can arrange to get my things from Keaton’s.
I tell her everything over takeout and a few glasses of wine. About Keaton cheating, showing up unannounced days later…about the guys…about Keaton basically firing me when I rejected him.
“Shit,” she says as she drains her wine. “Well, you know you can stay here until you get your affairs in order.”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
She smiles. “I know it’s all chaos right now, but you know…everything happens for a reason.”
I sip my wine. “Yeah, of course.”
When it’s nearing ten pm, Melissa shuts off the light and heads for her room, leaving me on the couch. I pull the blanket up to my chin and breathe deep, praying that she’s right.
That the best is yet to come.
17
SOPHIE
2 Months Later
“Sophie Martin, please,”I say, the rush of nausea hitting me again.
The turbulence on this flight from Colorado to Vermont was something else. I swear, I thought a couple times we were going to burst at the seams. Which, of course, didn’t help the nerves I seem to get before I fly now.
I used to never get sick on planes, but ever since I took this job, the nerves are so much worse. Not to mention I’ve been so queasy lately from the travel and all the restaurants and rich food…
Heat flushes me, and I think I might be coming down with something.
I guess it was inevitable, after flying back and forth between ten cities in the last month and a half.
“Yes, Ms. Martin, we have your room ready,” the attendant says as they tap away on their keyboard.
I thank them once they procure the key card for me and all but rush up to my room because I feel like that last burrito I scarfed down in the Atlanta airport is coming back to haunt me.
I don’t even like burritos, honestly, but it looked appetizing and my mouth was watering for it. Plus, I was in a rush to make my connection.
