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The Dissolution of Unrequited (The Science of Unrequited Book 4)

Page 4

by Len Webster


  “You’ll be phenomenal at MIT, Alexandra.”

  She pressed her lips together in a tight smile. “I’m so nervous. My Ph.D. at MIT is all I’ve ever wanted, so thank you for the recommendation letter. I don’t think I would have gotten accepted without you.”

  “You deserve MIT. You’ve worked so hard. I did nothing but tell MIT the truth.”

  “Well, I’m thankful, nonetheless. So you promise to make time for me if and when you’re in Massachusetts?”

  Dr. Rodahawe smiled as he leaned across the table. “So long as you promise you’ll come back to the institute if you’re ever in Europe. I expect to see you published.”

  She rolled her eyes. Graduating with her Ph.D. was seven years away and being a published academic would take even longer, but she appreciated his belief in her. “I’ll try my best to make you proud.”

  He reached over and grasped her hand in his. He reminded her so much of her father with that glint of pride in his eyes. “You already did the moment you turned down three years at the institute to follow your dreams. You’re going to be a remarkable physicist.”

  Suddenly, her phone vibrating on the table caught her attention. She smiled at the doctor and pulled away to pick it up, seeing the message from her father. She knew it was one in the morning back in Brookline and that he was probably making sure she got to the airport safely.

  Dad: Good morning, Alexandra. Just checking in. Did you make it to the airport okay?

  Alex: I did. I’ve checked in. Just having coffee with Dr. Rodahawe before I go through security. Flight leaves in a couple of hours. Are you still picking me up at the airport? I don’t want you to have to leave work. I can take a cab back to Brookline.

  Dad: My daughter is coming home after a year and a half in Switzerland. There’s no way I’m not picking you up. Seb is coming, too, so pretend to be surprised.

  Alex: Oh, God. I’ve missed him. I miss you, too, Dad. But, you know, Seb is the love of my life. Is Mum going to be at the airport?

  Dad: No, I’m sorry, my love. She has an important meeting with her publisher in New York. She’s so sorry, but she’ll be home later tonight. I’ll see you in twelve hours, Alexandra. I love you so much.

  Alex: I love you, too, Dad. See you at Logan!

  Three hours into her flight to Boston, Massachusetts, the plane hit turbulence, waking Alex from her sleep with the frantic whispers of the other passengers and the seat belt indicator coming on. She gazed out the window to find the sky dark and see a flash of lightning in the distance. At takeoff, it was nothing but clear skies. Alex turned away from the window and reached down to pull on her seat belt, ensuring it was tightly in place.

  The plane vibrated violently, and her breathing thinned.

  Nausea roiled through her as she clutched her stomach.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered as she gazed up to find the seat belt light still switched on, desperately hoping the turbulence would ease.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has switched on the seat belt sign. We are experiencing some heavy turbulence that will continue for some time. We apologize. Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened until the captain turns off the seat belt sign,” a flight attendant paged through the cabin, not easing Alex’s anxiety one bit.

  She had never had a fear of flying, but she had never experienced turbulence like this. Suddenly, the plane dropped, and her stomach jumped, causing her nausea to rise. Alex flung forward, searching through the seat pocket for the airsickness bag. Once she found it, she desperately opened it and threw up in the paper bag.

  “Oh, dear,” the elderly lady said next to her.

  “I’m so sorry,” Alex said as she removed her face from the bag and closed it. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as the woman set her palm on Alex’s shoulder.

  “It’s all right. You’re not looking very well,” she pointed out.

  Alex attempted a smile as she pressed her palm back to her stomach. “Airsickness.”

  Then she felt it. Another wave of vomit forced its way up her throat as she slapped a hand to her mouth and turned away from the old lady with silver eyes. She tried to force it down until she could make it to the bathroom, but the plane’s vibrations were making her feel worse. All she could do was attempt to get her body under control with each breath she took. But they weren’t deep breaths. She was heaving, struggling to fight against the sickness, and she was losing. So Alex opened the sickness bag once more and was hit by the smell of vomit and tears formed.

  “Here,” the lady next to her said.

  Alex craned her neck to find the passenger offering her a new sickness bag. She scrunched her used bag closed and took the new one from her savior. Once the bag was opened, Alex turned away and threw up for the second time just as the plane began to level out. To her relief, the seat belt light turned off just as she finished throwing up.

  “Thank God,” Alex whimpered as she sat herself up and scrunched the second bag closed. Then she turned to the lady next to her. “I’m so sorry you had to see all that. But thank you.”

  The elderly lady smiled as she unbuckled her belt and got out of her seat. “It’s all right, dear. I’ll let you go to the bathroom.”

  In her weak state, she managed to unclasp her belt and get up from her seat. A stewardess with a sympathetic and worried-filled expression walked toward her.

  “Miss, are you okay?” she asked as Alex shuffled out of her row.

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Just airsickness. I’m sorry, I’ll throw these out.”

  The stewardess with her perfect makeup and slicked back blond bun shook her head. “I’ll do that. And here,” she said, handing Alex a small toothbrush and toothpaste. “I wanted to come over earlier, but the turbulence kept me in my seat as per protocol.” Then she reached in her pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag.

  Alex smiled her appreciation and dumped the used sickness bags into the trash bag. The stewardess stepped into an empty aisle and allowed Alex to walk to the bathroom. Once inside, she slid the lock in place and set the toothbrush and toothpaste on the small counter and gave herself a moment just in case she needed to throw up again. After a minute passed, she pressed her hand to her stomach and knew that the nausea had passed. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. The passenger seated next to her was correct. Alex was pale, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

  Sighing once more, she reached over and picked up the toothbrush. Ripping the plastic off, she picked up the small tube of toothpaste. Just as she was about to run the brush under the water faucet, a knock on the door had her pausing. She spun around and slid the lock back to find the same stewardess with a bottle of water in her hand.

  “Here,” she said as Alex took the bottle from her. “The bottled water will be better for you.”

  “Thank you,” Alex said with much appreciation before she closed the door and locked it. Then she set the toothpaste down and uncapped the bottle. A deep breath later, she poured the water over the brush, added the minty toothpaste, and then brushed away the gross taste in her mouth. When she finished, she dumped everything in the trash and made her way out of the bathroom and returned to her seat.

  When she reached her row, the old lady smiled and got up, allowing Alex to return to her seat by the window. As Alex sat down, she could see the storm clouds had vanished, leaving behind clear blue skies. Setting her palm back on her stomach, she let out a sigh, hoping she could make it back to the States without being sick again.

  As she buckled her belt, a packet of crackers caught her eye. She turned her attention to the old lady and furrowed her brows in confusion. Humor gleamed in her silver eyes as she said, “Don’t worry. You’ll make a great mother.”

  Her heart dipped, as did her stomach, and she was fearful that sickness would roil through her once more.

  “You can tell?” Al
ex asked, dumbfounded.

  The old lady laughed as she reached over, pulled out Alex’s tray, and set the crackers on it. “Dear, I’ve had a few in my lifetime. I even have some grandbabies. How far along are you?”

  Alex glanced down at her palm clutching her stomach and then back at the passenger. “Eight weeks.”

  It was true.

  Alex was eight weeks pregnant.

  She found out two weeks before she left Zürich to return home.

  “Morning sickness is only going to get worse. I’m Ester, by the way.”

  “I’m Alex. I’m sorry, but how did you know I’m pregnant?”

  Ester took the crackers from Alex’s tray and opened them. “I saw you examining your food. You looked at the cheese and pushed it away. You only ate the bread. You changed your mind about coffee and settled for juice … then you threw up. These crackers from the stewardess should help.”

  Alex took the crackers from her with an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I barely know what to eat. I stupidly packed my pregnancy books in my suitcase and didn’t see one at the airport bookshop. Do you have any tips on what other foods I should avoid on this flight, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not at all.”

  Relief filtered through her veins. Alex was scared she might eat something on the plane that wouldn’t be good for her baby. “Do you mind if I take some notes?”

  Ester shook her head. Alex stowed away her tray table and reached under the seat in front of her to pull out her tote bag. She raked through it and retrieved her notebook and a pen before she pushed her bag under the seat with her foot. Then she pulled out her tray, opened her notebook, and set it and the crackers down.

  “Oh, my,” Ester said, leaning closer to Alex and taking in the equations on the pages. “That’s impressive. My husband used to be a high school math teacher. I see formulas he would probably know. Are you a math student?”

  “I’m a physics TA at MIT … well, I’m supposed to be. I think my current situation might just alter that.”

  Ester blinked, seeming confused. “Do you live in Switzerland?”

  Alex shook her head. “I worked at the Rodahawe Institute.”

  “Is the baby’s father Swiss?”

  “Ah, no,” Alex said as her palm gently rubbed her stomach. “He’s American. He’s back home in the States.”

  The old lady smiled. “Now you eat. I’ll give you all the pregnancy tips I can think of, but I’ll save some for your mama to teach you.”

  Her mother.

  Oh, God.

  Alex hadn’t told her parents—let alone her baby’s father—that she was, in fact, with child. But for now, thousands of feet in the air, she would concentrate on learning about what to expect from an unexpected friend, and it was definitely appreciated.

  Ester Nightingale was a saint. It was the only way Alex could put it.

  The old lady from outside of Providence, Rhode Island, gave her so many tips on pregnancy and motherhood. By the end of the flight, Alex promised to update Ester on how she and the baby were through email. Alex also found out that Ester and her husband had moved to Providence after living in Maine their whole lives to be closer to their daughter. When Alex asked her if she spent much time in Boston, Ester shook her head and said she only went to Boston so she could fly to Zürich to visit her son who now lived there.

  To Alex’s relief, Ester didn’t seem to recognize her as Little Miss Red Sox. At the mere mention of the Red Sox, Ester said she’d rather knit than watch sports. It was one less worry for her. Alex was out of the media spotlight for over three years. Once Kyle proposed to Angie Fisher, Little Miss Red Sox was old news, which suited Alex just fine. It meant she could breathe easier when she was in Boston. But news of her pregnancy might just bring the spotlight back on her, and she didn’t want that.

  “Welcome home, ma’am,” the US Customs officer said as he allowed her to pass.

  “Thank you,” Alex said, pulling her suitcase to find Ester waiting for her on the other side of the exit.

  “I was starting to get worried,” Ester expressed.

  Alex laughed. “My bags were searched. I have a lot of textbooks and notebooks full of formulas. They were just making sure I didn’t have anything deemed too sensitive.”

  “Do you have family picking you up, Alex?” Ester asked as they made their way to the terminal.

  “I do. My dad said he’d be picking me up,” she explained as they walked through the doors and to a terminal packed with waiting people. Alex moved away from the doors and stopped to reach into her purse. Pulling out a card, she handed it to Ester. “If you and your husband or even your family are in Boston and want someplace to have a nice dinner.”

  Ester grasped the card. “The Little Restaurant in Boston? I’ve heard so much about this restaurant. My daughter says they’re always booked out for months.”

  Alex nodded, knowing her mother hated to turn patrons away, but the restaurant was booked full every night. “I know, but don’t worry about it. My mother owns the restaurant. Just let them know who you are and that I sent you, and my mother will make room. And it’s on me. So don’t even think about eating there with the intention of paying.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Ester said, her eyelids fluttering as if she were about to cry.

  “That you’ll go and tell me your thoughts on my mother’s restaurant. She also has a bakery I’d love to show you, so please let me know when you’re in Boston next.”

  Ester let go of her suitcase handle to hug Alex tightly. When she stepped back, she brushed away a tear. “You’ll make a wonderful mother, Alex. You have such a kind heart. And please do let me know how the father takes the news.”

  “I will,” Alex promised.

  “Mom!” a woman shouted, and Alex and Ester glanced over at the woman with flowers in her hands.

  “That’s my daughter,” Ester announced.

  “It was lovely meeting you, Ester. Thank you for the tips and for taking care of me while I was sick on the plane.”

  “Of course, dear. Now you keep me updated on your pregnancy. Safe journey home, Alex.”

  “And safe journey back to Providence,” Alex said before Ester walked over to her daughter.

  Alex grasped her suitcase handle and scanned the terminal. She couldn’t see her father or Seb anywhere. She walked away from the doors and began to search through the mass of people.

  “Alexandra!” she heard someone shout to her left.

  When Alex turned, the last person she expected to see at the airport waiting for her greeted her. Tears threatened as a wave of emotions overwhelmed her.

  They were happy tears.

  Tears of disbelief that he was here.

  Tears proving she had missed him so.

  Alex almost ran to him. The moment she reached him, his arms wrapped around her.

  Warm.

  Safe.

  He felt like home.

  A home set on fire a long time ago.

  She hated the way doubt and misery chiseled their way into her heart. So she ignored what she felt and memorized his long embrace. An embrace she had assumed would be swift but wasn’t. He held her as if they had all the time in the world. He held her as if he knew her heart needed him and this moment.

  “Welcome home, AJ,” he whispered as he squeezed her just that little bit more—almost as if he couldn’t believe she was home.

  A tear threatened, and she let it escape.

  She should have held it back, but she couldn’t.

  She didn’t want to hide her true feelings.

  Not at this one perfect moment.

  His arms unwound from around her, and she saw those light browns that she had missed so much. Then she noticed the sign in his hand that read: Welcome home, AJ!

  She smiled at it, loving it
completely.

  “I would have made it fancier, but I was at Fenway and all they had were markers and poster paper for me to steal,” he explained, holding it up properly in his hands.

  Alex laughed. “It’s perfect. Are my dad and Seb here?”

  Evan Gilmore shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. Your dad didn’t say why, but he asked me to pick you up. Is that all right?”

  The plea in his eyes had her breathless.

  They had so much left unsaid between them.

  But she knew, no matter what happened, he would always be her best friend.

  “More than all right,” Alex confirmed.

  Evan grasped her suitcase handle, pulled on it, and arched his brow at her, amusement clear on his face. “Just one suitcase and it weighs a ton.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “It’s all my books, some of my research, and notebooks.”

  “Jesus, AJ. Did you bring home any of your clothes?” he asked as he spun around, wheeling her suitcase along as they made their way out of the terminal.

  “I brought home some.”

  And the pictures of us.

  But she didn’t say it out loud.

  No, she kept that secret to herself.

  “Ready to go home?”

  Alex craned her neck to discover him staring at her. Then she nodded. It had been long overdue, but she was ready. And as much as working at the Rodahawe Institute for three years sounded like a dream, she had other dreams and ambitions she wanted to truly pursue.

  “I’m ready to go home.”

  The moment Evan parked the car by the curb, she glanced over at her family home. It hadn’t changed in the two months since she was last home. Her stay had only lasted days, but she still held on to those days with regretful longing. The purple tulips her father had planted for her mother in front of the house had yet to bloom, but she knew when they finally did, they would be vibrant and so beautiful. She knew her mother loved coming home to the tulips he had planted for her—a gift of his love always on display when in bloom.

  “My dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. He must not be home,” Alex said, taking in the freshly shoveled path that led to the front door. She couldn’t help but be disappointed that her parents and Seb hadn’t been at the airport to pick her up, but she was thankful Evan was.

 

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