I burn the entire day with Nora and Colt, and they drive me to the airport when it’s time for my flight. Spending time with them was the best thing I could do, because it distracted me from Joe. But now that I’m at the airport, checking in, I look at my phone and realize that Joe hasn’t called. He hasn’t texted either. But everyone else in my life has.
Dad: Renn will wait at the airport to pick you up. Call me when you land.
Donna: I hope it went well. Let us know if you need anything.
Renn: Tell the pilot not to be late. It’s pizza and poker night at Clayton’s.
I answer all three of them and walk around the terminal. I haven’t gone through security yet. Something stops me. I know exactly what that something is. Joe.
Some part of me still expects the coin to flip on our fate again. I pray for one perfect movie moment where Joe chases me at the airport and professes his love for me. When I close my eyes, I can almost see him. Running frantically, catching me in his arms, going down to one knee . . .
You’re not a burden, Ever. And I don’t care that you don’t know what to do with your life yet. I love you just the way you are. We are not cursed. We’ll make it work, you hear me?
But this is not a movie, and it doesn’t happen. Nor should it. My own hypocrisy is not lost on me. From the get-go, from our time in Spain, Joe was the one to save me, to take care of me, to court me, to never give up on me. He was the one who wanted to work together. Create together. He was the one to come to San Francisco. In some ways, I became a bit of a rat too. Addicted to my next fix. To being desired and assured that he was still here, chasing me, loving me, fighting for me.
Joe deserves better. He deserves someone who is willing to fight for him, because he is worth fighting for. More than anything, he deserves a girl who wouldn’t let something like a crippling, illogical fear of being a curse get in her way.
And that girl is not me.
Because I fully believe I am cursed.
It’s when I go through security that I start to realize the magnitude of my mistake. Of leaving the way I have. Without talking it through. Again.
I pull out my phone and type him a message.
Ever: I think I made a terrible mistake.
One minute passes. Then two. Then twenty. He doesn’t answer. His words from yesterday hit me somewhere deep.
At some point, I’m just going to drown.
Maybe the final casualty in our affair is Joe’s hope.
“Ma’am? Do you mind putting your phone in the bin?”
The request snaps me out of it. I remove my shoes and go through the scanner. Collect my things. I make my way to my gate in a daze. When I reach it, I take a seat and stare at my phone. I start typing again. I can’t help myself.
Ever: Spoiler alert: I’m about to sound like a world-class wuss.
Ever: I thought you would come chase me at the airport.
Ever: You know? Like in the movies?
Ever: They’re always the best part in chick flicks. Casablanca. The Graduate. When Harry Met Sally. Almost Famous.
Ever: （Yes. I’m listing them chronologically because I know you will appreciate it）。
Ever: （And yes, I know I left out Love Actually. I wasn’t sure if you’d watched it. There are still so many things I don’t know about you）。
Ever: I just needed an assurance that our relationship is not cursed.
Ever: Because the truth is, I feel so unequipped to be with you. And I’m terrified something bad would happen if we get together again. That seems to be the pattern.
Ever: I’m done now. You are welcome for this pile of crap-tastic spamming.
Ever: Actually, I have one more thing to say—I’m really sorry. For everything.
By the time I board the plane, he still hasn’t answered.
TWENTY-NINE
If I had to describe the flight back to San Francisco in one word, I would probably choose excruciating. If I had to choose two—fucking excruciating. Out of all the right decisions I have made this year, including, but not limited to, moving back to San Francisco, reconnecting with Dad and Renn, deciding to go back to school, giving the engagement ring back to Gemma—the one decision that mattered the most is the one I screwed up.
“Ten minutes to landing,” the captain announces. Numbness washes all over me. The finality of my decision hits me with full force.
No more Joe. He said he was done chasing and fighting. He meant it.
“It’s true.” I press my forehead to the cool window, closing my eyes. “I have made a terrible mistake.”
“You think?” The guy sitting beside me belches. “To me it looks like you made the right choice, opting out of that sketchy airplane food. I’m starting to regret that tuna sandwich.”