Chapter Twenty-Eight

Going to make this right

Jamie sped down the roads in his impressive Ferrari, cutting through traffic and slamming on the brakes half a million times. We didn’t say anything. I was too preoccupied with my hectic thoughts. My body tingled with nerves as I clung to my packed purse and wallet, checking the time every few minutes.

He made it to the airport in record time and stopped in front of the entrance.

“I can take it from here,” I told him. “Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem,” he replied. He then took his aviator sunglasses off and handed them to me. “You’re going to need these when you’re there.”

I smiled and took them. “Thanks.”

“Yeah. Well, say hello to big brother for me, and try not to betray him often. Alright?”

I raised a brow. “Yeah, right. Great and appropriate timing and all to bring that up, Jamie.”

“Too soon?”

“Just a little.”

He chuckled. “Get lost then. I’m not going to wait around a second longer. You’ve got a man to grovel to, and I’ve got a lovely blonde to work my moves on.”

My eyes widened. “Hell no. Stay away from Emily, Jamie. She’s not the relationship kind of girl.”

“And I’m not the relationship kind of guy. We should be good.”

I just shook my head at him. I opened the door and stepped out. He honked once at me as he drove off. I turned around and hurried past the crowd of people with one thought in mind.

I have a plane to catch.

*****

Thirty two hours.

Thirty. Two. Freaking. Hours.

Why did people like to travel when their destinations were thirty two freaking hours away?

It gave me a shitload of time to reflect on everything. I ran our last encounter together, particularly the hate in his voice when he had spoken to me. What had changed since then for him to dare me to follow him?

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do when we saw each other. I tried to come up with lines in my head, but not even then could I properly piece together the right words for the occasion. It was overwhelming thinking about it, so I strayed from it and thought instead about Mom and the last words we’d said on the phone while I was waiting to board.

“If you knew I was leaving the country, but that I was going to be happy, would you understand?” I asked her.

“Well, I left the state to find my happiness, didn’t I?” she countered with a small sigh. “This is about Ben, though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. Could be a day. Could be a month.”

She was quiet, deliberating. “Well, sweetheart, you grew up before my eyes. You graduated high school, you graduated College, and you’re officially a qualified teacher. You’re not a rebellious party bopper, and you’ve matured into a beautiful young lady. I don’t have a say in what you do, but you have my approval.”

I smiled, blinking back the tears. “Then I’m going to Morocco.”

“Oh, hell, Claire,” she groaned. “That’s not a short distance away!”

Her approval meant the world to me.

It was 6pm Aussie time when the plane landed in Tangier. However, here, it was ten in the morning and crowded as hell.

As the plane began its descent, Tangier looked like a tropical paradise – a coastal city along the Mediterranean Sea, packed with people and, according to pamphlets I’d been given, highly historic places that made for good tourism. It looked like my kind of heaven.

I didn’t need to collect any luggage – I had the purse I’d packed everything into hanging on my shoulder. I was sweaty, tired, and uncertain of my next step.

Once I made it passed immigration, I stood in the airport as a line-up of family members crowded around, waiting for their loved ones to show. I looked all around me, feeling small and unimportant as I stood alone. I searched for his face, at times standing on my tippy-toes to glance over people’s shoulders.

But no grey eyes met mine.

After fifteen minutes of this, I was growing increasingly worried. Had I done something wrong? What if he had never intended on showing up to begin with? A feeling of melancholy passed through me. My hopes started to dwindle. I spun around frantically, searching and searching until…

My body froze. My mind froze. Everything froze.

Except my heart.

That little organ sped up, hammering away in my chest, as I stared on in front of me.

He stood ten feet away from me in grey cargo shorts and a casual, white button up. Still the most delectable man I remembered him to be, his black hair had grown some, curling at the nape of his neck. He was bigger than I remembered, and, like always, he stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of people around him.

Those intense grey eyes were locked to me. I could feel them sweeping up and down my body, taking all of me in. The look on his face was hard to read, but he seemed to be as affected as me judging by the way his chest rose and fell more rapidly.

There was no way I was going to allow him to make the first move. I was aware that even though he’d brought me here, that didn’t necessarily mean everything was okay. I had a lot of work on my hands, but I wanted to do it. I’d do anything to have another chance with him again.

I shook out of shock and began moving to him. My eyes stayed locked to his as I brushed past people. My body grew warmer the closer I got, as though I’d been a planet that’d spiralled out of orbit only to be thrust back around the sun again. And when I was finally standing a foot away from him, staring up at that beautiful face, all the anguish and pain I’d endured without him the last four months caught up to me, and I crumbled.

The tears fell and I tsked at them angrily, cursing, “I didn’t want to cry, dammit.”

His lips twitched, signalling a bit of life under that stoic expression.

I wiped the tears away quickly, unsure of what to say or how to react. So we just stood there for a few minutes in silence, in the noisy public airport, as I tried to overcome this heavy wave of emotion.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out, staring up at him. “I know you don’t want me to say it, but fuck, Ben, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything to have you back. I’ll prove it any way that’s good enough for you to believe me. I will never mess it up with you because I’d rather die than face losing you again. I just… I really love you and I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know where you stand. I don’t know anything. I haven’t heard your voice in four months, and I’m desperate to. I want to touch you too, but you’re staring at me like I’ve gone mad and I’m pretty sure I should shut up right now.”