44
DREW
Josh wakes me when it’s still dark.
“Drew,” he says, “your ride is here.”
He’s still dressed. I’m groggy, but awake enough to feel another flush of shame. I’ve never seen anyone want me gone as badly as he did when I showed up last night.
I rise from the cot, unable to meet his eye, and grab my backpack.
“I’m ready,” I tell him, with no emotion in my voice. I’m angry but it’s mostly at myself. I should have known better than to come here. I’ve spent my whole life determined not to do something this stupid again, and look what I did at the first chance that presented itself: I leapt at it.
“Here,” he says, handing me his Georgetown hoody.
“It’s hot out,” I argue. And I don’t want your stupid fucking sweatshirt. I want to forget I ever knew you.
“You need to wear it,” he says, “with the hood up. They need to make sure no one recognizes you.”
I do as I’m told. “I’ll mail it back to you,” I reply coolly. We’re right back where we were that first morning in Oahu—Josh reluctantly trying to do the right thing and me telling him, as best I can, to fuck right off.
“Keep it,” he says.
“I don’t want it,” I say, and I’m sure he hears the hurt that leaches out of me with those words. My God, I sound more like Sloane with every second that passes.
“Drew,” he says, pulling me toward him with his hands on my hips. “Look—”
There is a tap outside the tent. “Hey, Bailey?” someone says. Another American. “We gotta go.”
He presses his lips to my forehead. “I’ll call you.”
I glance up at him for one second, which is as long as I can stand. I think the memory of him is going to break my heart every day for the rest of my life. “Bye, Josh,” I say, and I unzip the tent.
He starts to follow me and I shake my head. “Don’t, okay?” My voice quavers and after a moment’s hesitation, he nods, and that’s it.
Two guys in camo wait outside. “This seems like overkill,” I mutter quietly when I see the armored truck waiting for us.
One of the guys raises a brow. “Only someone who hasn’t spent much time here would say that.”
Our ride back to the airport is entirely uneventful, certainly no scarier than sitting in the back of a New York City cab. The worst part of the whole trip is how carsick I am until the medicine kicks in.
I have to wonder, once more, how much of this was actual worry on Josh’s part and how much was him just being not wanting to be seen with me.
I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s over now, either way.
One of the guards escorts me all the way to the plane. “Thank you,” I tell him when I reach the door.
“If it makes you feel any better,” the guy says, “he called in a favor for you he’d never call in for himself.”
What does that mean?
It really doesn’t matter, though. It just goes to show how fucking unnecessary it all actually was.
45
DREW
When I finally land in LA, a full day later, there’s a text from Tali. The picture she’s sent shows Hayes holding a tiny human in the palm of his hand.
It’s a girl! it says. Audrey Bell Flynn.
I marvel at the photo. While I’m familiar with how people are created, I’ve never seen one come from people I know, people I’ve known since the beginning of their relationship, with all its starts and stops. It’s…a miracle. Out of their tortured back and forth, this gorgeous little girl was created.
They took the long journey and it paid off for them. Most of us aren’t that lucky.
I head to the first-class lounge at LAX to shower and change clothes, since I’m too gross right now to be seen much less be in the presence of a newborn.
I have texts from Davis about the interviews and some movie premiere in a few weeks for which he’s found me a date. I guess I’ve got no reason to say no at this point, do I? I also have several missed calls from Josh and several texts asking me to let him know when I’m back in LA. Responsible as always, our Joshua. Making sure everyone’s taken care of.
I’m back, I type, nothing more, and then I hit send. His obligation is done and so is mine.
I reach the showers and have just closed the door behind me when he calls. “How did it go?” he asks. “There weren’t any issues?”
“It was just peachy,” I reply. “I’m getting in the shower here so—”
“Drew, wait,” he says with a sigh. “I’m so sorry about how that all happened. I know you meant well and—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson. You’re the only one allowed to pay a surprise visit. So I guess in five years or whenever the hell you’re free to travel and willing to be seen with me, I’ll just wait for a knock on the door and drop all my plans.”
“You can’t be serious right now,” he says. “Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in? Do you have any idea—”
“Please stop,” I say. My throat aches with the desire to cry. “You made it abundantly clear when I was there that I was nuts to have shown up and I definitely don’t need to hear it all over again. More to the point, this is done. So you don’t need to worry about me anymore.”
“Drew,” he says hoarsely, “don’t do this. I know it’s a messed-up situation, but I’d give anything to—”
I’d give anything to—。 Those are the words that bring me up short. I’ve heard that before. It was bullshit then, and it’s bullshit now.
“No, Josh, you actually wouldn’t give anything, because if that was true you’d be here. And if that was true, you’d be willing to tell your family and you wouldn’t have hidden me from your colleagues. Let’s call a spade a spade: you’re not willing to give up a fucking thing.”
And then I hang up, block his number, and get into the shower where I cry like a child for a very long time.
A nurse ushers me back to Tali’s room. She, of course, is gorgeous and radiant, smiling wide when she sees me.
Only Tali would look this freaking cute right after giving birth. Hayes sits in the corner, still in scrubs, holding a baby so tiny in his arms she hardly seems real. There is something soft on his face, something I saw there on the day he and Tali married. He flashes me a quick smile but then his gaze is on the bundle once more, so besotted with tiny Audrey he can barely stand to look away.
“You poor thing,” Tali says. “You just landed, didn’t you? You look more exhausted than I do.”
“I wanted to see her before I sleep for a thousand hours,” I reply. “How’s the vagina? How ruined is it on a scale of one to ten?”
Hayes shoots us a quick, alarmed glance while Tali laughs. “I wound up needing a C-section, so I imagine things are intact,” she replies. She turns to her husband. “Hayes, you have to share the baby.”
Hayes gives her a sheepish grin and rises with the baby in his arms. “Do you want to hold her?” he asks.
I blink uncertainly, looking from him to Tali. Does anyone really trust me with the baby?