Page 92 of Open for Negotiation
Chapter 20
Scarlett
Not having a cell phone certainly makes traveling very boring. Instead of checking my bag and heading right up to security, I had to wait in the most ridiculous line to get a physical boarding pass, then I had to ask a very nice older woman if I could use her cell phone to call Eden to tell her my phone was broken.
I didn’t divulge anything beyond that. I didn’t think doing so in the middle of a crowded airport was the way to go.
By the time I’ve reached my gate and settled down to wait for the plane to arrive, I have stopped crying. Not because I’m no longer sad, but because I don’t think I have any tears left to fall. At this point, I almost feel numb, like there is no emotion left inside of me.
Walking out that door, leaving Max sleeping so perfectly in my bed, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. Harder than dealing with the reporters after the story broke about Coach Whitmore, and even harder than saying goodbye to my family to move to Georgia. I had to pry myself out of the bed and once I made the choice to go, I couldn’t even look at him again. I knew if I did, I’d never leave. I’d never be able to.
I shouldn’t have even let him stay with me last night, but once I felt him, held him, told him that I needed him, I was at the mercy of my body and my heart.
There’s nothing left for me here. Everyone at Fortress, everyone who saw the newscast, thinks that I fucked my way to my position, and I refuse to put myself through that again.
I glance over my shoulder to check the time on the screen behind the desk. I’ll be boarding in about twenty minutes, and it will, no doubt, be the longest twenty minutes of my life.
Without a phone to distract me, to help me pass the time, all I’m left with are my thoughts.
And those are full of Max, Max, and Max.
“Is this seat taken?” a voice says in front of me, and I look up to see a much older man using a cane pointing to the chair next to me.
“No, it’s not taken. Please,” I motion toward it, “be my guest.”
He uses the cane for balance and lowers himself to sit then gives me a smile.
“Are you all right, dear? You seem very sad to be traveling.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of candy wrapped in a gold wrapper, and I can’t help but smile. Butterscotch. Just like a grandpa.
“I am sad,” I admit.
“Leaving someone special behind?”
“How did you know?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
“I’ve had a lot of years, m’dear. I’ve learned a thing or two.” He offers me a candy of my own, but I shake my head. “May I ask why you’re leaving if it makes you so sad?”
That is a very complicated question that I’m not sure how to answer, so I do the best I can.
“Sometimes, change is needed in order to spare yourself more heartbreak.”
“Ah, I see, it’s that kind of sadness.” He nods. “It’s a delicate battle that can have tremendous highs and the lowest of lows.”
“Have you ever had to leave someone behind before?”
“I have,” he nods, “it was just after World War II and I had come home to find that my love, Vivian, had found and fallen in love with someone else while I was away. This gutted me to my core, but I could see how happy she was. I didn’t want to interfere, but I couldn’t stay and see her with him. It wouldn’t be fair for myself.”
“So you left?”
“She moved on, so I had to as well, for my own happiness.”
“Do you regret it?”
“I’ve regretted it every single day, even as the years passed and I built a family with my beautiful Brenda, God rest her soul, I was still plagued with the burning question… what if?”
“Even though you found someone else?”
“Love, real, deep love, doesn’t go away just because you both move on. My journey, ultimately, ended up being the right one, and I knew that then and now.” He checks his watch then the screen to see the boarding time for his flight.
