Page 79 of Night and Day
They followed the instructions towards security, finally stopping just before the conveyor belts and metal detectors. Mia turned her back at end of the queue, placing her hands on Izzy’s chest, desperate for one last moment with him. She could sense him slipping away, retreating somewhere deep inside his mind as he blinked at the bright lights and the blur of people moving past.
“Izzy?” She whispered. “This is it.”
She couldn’t reach behind his stony facade, eyes hard and impenetrable. The connection she remembered only hours before had disappeared.
His voice sounded like it was coming through a tunnel. “This is not how I... I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s not your fault.”
She should have never brought him here. They should have said goodbye in Hamilton, on the river. Izzy thrived in solitude. In darkness and silence. She could understand that. She couldn’t force him into a life that didn’t fit him. She’d break him. “Izzy, you don’t have to say anything. We both know that long distance doesn’t work. Finland is over ten thousand miles away. I looked it up.” She pinched her eyes shut, pain shooting through her heart. “You belong here and you have your goals, the amazing things you’re doing. Keep going. Promise me. We’ll keep our memories and one day, once I have enough money, I’ll come to see you again, but I don’t expect you to wait for me. It’s not fair.” Her eyes blurred with tears. They came so easily now. Would she lose that when she lost him?
“Don’t.” Izzy spoke, barely moving his lips, his jaw tight, eyes two flickering shadows. “Please...” He grabbed the headphones which hung from his pocket, coiled them, placed them into her hand, his eyes pleading, breath shallow. He looked like he was about to faint.
Mia shook her head, a surge a desperation gripping her. She’d done this to him. She’d forced him here and caused him this pain. “Look at you. You don’t even go to the supermarket. You can’t be in a relationship with someone from the other side of the planet. That involves travel. There’s no way around it.” She sucked in her lips, tasting the tears that had travelled all the way down her face. “You need to find someone local. I want it to be me, but I don’t know... stars would have to align.”
“They already did.” He spoke slowly, each word forced out with great effort.
Mia shivered. This couldn’t be the end. It was too cruel. If they’d met because of divine intervention, where was that intervention now? Mia glanced up, half-expecting the ceiling to fall, to stop her from boarding the plane. Why wasn’t anything happening?
Mia Forsman. Mia Forsman. This is the final boarding call...
The sound of her own name on the loudspeakers gave her a jolt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, placing a hasty kiss on his lips and rushing to the nearest security gate.
Not looking back, she threw her backpack on the tray and walked briskly through the gate, then ran through the duty-free shops towards her gate. She made it just as they were closing the entrance and presented her boarding pass with apologies, out of breath. The airline staff took pity on her, letting her onto the jet bridge. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she stumbled her way down the aisle, blinking back tears. Crying in public felt like such a foreign experience. This definitely wasn’t her.
Once seated, her head pressed against the tiny window, she wept for good. The tears of sadness, unfairness, shame... why had she run off like that? She was supposed to be a brilliant communicator. What had happened to her? She’d planned this farewell in her mind, imagining words she longed to hear, words she was dying to say back to him. She’d promised herself she’d graciously release him of any obligations but promise to return. She’d released him alright. She’d downright told him it was over.
Was it? Or had she just let the enormity of the distance that stood between them, and his visible discomfort, erode the faith she’d had only hours earlier?
Mia stared out the window at the stretch of tarmac ahead, trying to remember the way she’d felt in his arms, on the dock, and in his house. It already felt far away, like a mirage flickering in the distance. If she couldn’t sustain that feeling for one day, how could she sustain it for weeks or months? If she bought a ticket and came back, would he be waiting? She’d basically told him to find someone else. Someone local.
The plane jerked forward, rolling to the start of the runway. Mia fastened her seatbelt and dug up her phone. Maybe she could still send him a message, fix this somehow. After browsing her list of two contacts – Kati and Mikko, she realised her mistake. She didn’t have Izzy’s number. They’d been together the whole time, and she’d treated the phone as a temporary thing she’d only used to connect with people in Finland. In all honesty, she’d barely touched it in the last couple of days, too busy touching him. The only thing she found was a list of expenses she’d converted from the physical notebook into a digital one, showing a total of 345 dollars. It seemed too low. Their time together must have cost him more than that. But that’s what she officially owed him, and she’d already hidden the money in his house, with interest. On paper, she owed him nothing, yet she’d felt indebted to him in ways she could hardly explain.
As she stared at the phone, a flight attendant came round to tell her to switch it into flight mode. Mia complied.
Well, that was that. She couldn’t reach him at all until she arrived in Doha and hopefully found WIFI. Staring at the screen, her eyes landed on an icon she didn’t remember seeing before. Spotify. Had it always been there? Mia launched the app and it displayed a selection of songs she remembered from the car trip. Was it Izzy’s account? Mia navigated to ‘settings’ and stared at his username, dumbfounded. She had access to Izzy’s premium account, along with several downloaded playlists. It had to be a mistake. Maybe Izzy had forgotten to sign out on his old phone before handing it over.
Then she remembered the headphones he’d practically forced on her. Was this the reason? Her fingers trembling, she opened the playlists. The first one up was calledMia. He’d made her a playlist! Like two teenagers sharing headphones, he’d made her a mix tape. The silly thought shot through her heart, producing more tears, along with an involuntary smile.
Letting the tears run, enjoying their salty taste and the way they expanded her chest, she slipped on the earbuds and pushed play.
