by Howe, Violet
We stayed there for over an hour, talking in between kisses. The frigid cold finally got the best of us, though, moving us indoors to a nearby restaurant for dessert and more wine.
The clock had long ago struck midnight when I finally climbed my final stairs of the day up to my room. Jack had left me at the hotel entrance with a rather passionate kiss and a promise to be around early to take me to breakfast.
My calves screamed with each step I climbed, and my mind swirled in a whirlwind of wine and confusion. I liked Jack. A lot. I'd enjoyed spending the day with him. In another world at another time, I'm sure I would've felt like one lucky girl to have found him. I mean, what was not to like? He was sweet. Charming. Intelligent. Funny. Upbeat. Always smiling. Definitely nothing like the maelstrom of depression and doubt I'd been dealing with back home.
All in all, I'd had a wonderful birthday, in large part due to Jack.
Which turned my thoughts back to Cabe.
How would the day have gone if Cabe had been here? Would we have laughed and been crazy like we can be? Or would he have been moody, withdrawn, and sensitive to everything? The Cabe he's been lately? Would I have felt so free and so exhilarated? Or would I have been worried about Cabe? Seeking to make sure he was okay. That he was happy.
I entered my room to find our suitcase on my bed with a note from the airport apologizing for the delay.
Our suitcase. A visual, tangible reminder of Cabe. Of his absence. Of his presence.
The illusion of my perfect day shattered, and my emotions went into overdrive as I wavered between guilt for feeling like I'd rather be in Paris with Jack instead of Cabe, and a longing for Cabe that threatened to completely undo me.
It was all so unfair. Why couldn't Cabe have chosen me? Why couldn't he have just gotten on the plane and been here to experience everything by my side? Then I would have never met Jack.
My heart rebelled at the thought even as it fleeted through my mind. I couldn't regret meeting Jack. He'd been a bright spot in the darkness for me. He'd been there for me when Cabe wasn't.
I showered and dug through the suitcase to find something to sleep in. I shoved Cabe's clothes to the side, but then I held his shirt to my face and inhaled deeply, the scent proving more painful than I could bear. I wiped my tears and exchanged the shirt for one of the silky negligees, but that brought forth memories of what might have been.
So I guess I'll just sleep in my birthday suit again tonight. Appropriate to close out my birthday, I suppose.
Sunday, March 9th
Jack rang my room from the front desk bright and early this morning. I took the stairs two at a time on the way down, anxious to see his smile and have him lift my sullen mood. My impending departure had weighed upon me since I woke up. I had no idea what waited for me back home. Hell, I didn't even know how I was getting home from the airport. If Cabe would even show up or if I wanted him to. When my phone charged back up this morning, I saw he'd left two voice mails last night, but I just deleted them without even listening. I didn't want him to ruin my last day. I'll figure out a ride home when I land if I need to.
Jack's smile lit up the entire lobby as he lifted me off the ground in his arms, kissing me soundly on the lips before setting me back down. "Good morning!"
"Well, good morning." I glanced at the front desk clerk and the family checking out, but they didn't seem to notice Jack's exuberance. It was Paris, after all. Frisky behavior is expected there, I suppose.
"Your plane doesn't leave until four, so I was thinking we could take the train out into the countryside, maybe to Versailles? Or we could stay close and head up to the antique markets, browse a little and do more meandering, if you'd like."
I laughed at him. "Who's this making all these plans? What happened to going where the city takes us? Throwing the guidebook out the window? You'll notice I came downstairs without it." I spread my arms wide so he could see I carried no book.
"I see, and I also see you're sporting new clothes. So I guess your suitcase made it after all?"
"At pretty much the last freakin' moment possible," I scoffed. "They may as well have left it at the airport. More of a pain in the ass for me to get it back there than it was worth to have it today. Although, I must admit, there's something to be said for clean panties and clean pants."
That remark garnered a sideways glance from the woman checking in, but I ignored her.
"Versailles sounds intriguing, but it makes me nervous to go so far. I want to get to the airport plenty early. Can you imagine if I missed my plane?"
Jack nodded. "It's only about an hour and a half round trip travel, but it's probably better to wait to see it when you have time to explore the grounds. I just wanted to make sure you had a great time on your last day here."
A wisp of sadness crossed his brow as he said it, and my conscience pricked me regarding Jack. For all he knew, he happened to meet some girl in Paris and ended up spending the weekend with her. Things must have been going pretty well from his point of view, but he had no way of knowing what a tangled web I'd left behind. I'd allowed him to live in my alternate universe, choosing not to share my troubling reality.
It would do him no good for me to explain it all, I reasoned. After today, I'd probably never see Jack again. So what did it matter? The thought pained me, and I reached up to plant a gentle kiss on his lips, one which he accepted and deepened into something much more passionate. The lady at the desk cleared her throat, and I reluctantly pulled away from Jack.
"I'm sure whatever we do will be a great day, but I need to stay close to check out of the hotel and get my luggage."
"They can store it for you," he said. "That way no matter where we end up you won't have to worry about your luggage until later this afternoon. You could check out now."
"Is it safe? To leave my luggage here, I mean?" I leaned close to him as I said it, not wanting to insult the front desk clerk.
Jack laughed. "Yes, people do it every single day."
So we went up to the room to get my suitcase, already packed and zipped on my bed next to the carry-on bag. I never really unpacked the stupid thing, so I only had to stuff my disgusting much-worn outfit in it to be ready to go.
"Wow, spacious room," Jack joked as he edged around the bed to look out the window. He swung open the large shutters and leaned out, the dark blue of his sweater contrasting nicely against the deep orange curtains. I had already put my camera up to take a shot when he turned and looked back at me, the outside light illuminating one side of his face while the other was cast in shadows. He smiled just as I clicked the shutter, the moment captured perfectly and frozen in time. Too bad I couldn't do that with the rest of our day.
It went by so quickly, the ticking countdown always present in our minds as we strolled hand-in-hand through parks, stole kisses in courtyards, and browsed through antique relics of other people's yesterdays gone by. My shoulders fell away from my ears, and I relaxed and gave myself over to the hazy fog suspended over the city. Any time my thoughts drifted to home—Cabe, my job, my real life—I forced myself back to Paris. To stay in the moment. Inside the snow globe existence Jack and I had created. I mean, who knew when I'd be happy again once I got back home? Why not take what happiness I could get while it was offered?
We took a bus to the Père Lachaise Cemetery so I could take a picture of Jim Morrison's tombstone for Mel. We lunched at a sidewalk cafe near the Sorbonne University, laughing and talking as if we had all the time in the world. We didn't, though. I realized with each passing moment how much I would miss Jack when I left. Our brief time together had been intense. Magical. I wanted to memorize every feature of his face. Of the cafe. Of everything about Paris. I dreaded leaving and going back to unhappiness.
Our pace slowed the closer we got to the hotel, goodbyes imminent. Jack suddenly pulled me against him and kissed me like the world might end tomorrow.
"I don't want to say goodbye," he said. He brushed my hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear before graz
ing his knuckles across my cheek. "I feel like I've had air in my lungs for the first time in a long time. Walking away from you right now would be like walking away from oxygen. I don't know how to do that."
I smiled, conflicted between happiness at what he offered and guilt at the massive amount of crap he wasn’t aware of.
He leaned forward to kiss me again, and I wriggled closer against him, which was nearly impossible as tightly as we were pressed together.
I wished again for the umpteenth time that I could freeze the moment. What a wonderful concept. For time to stop right then. To be frozen right there, without consequences, choices, and heartaches. Just me and Jack in the most romantic city in the world.
But time didn't stop. If anything, it sped up. I've been sitting here in the airport almost an hour already, and the weight of home pulls at me like mud stuck to my boots.
I'm not the same girl I was when I left home. This trip has changed me. Molded me. Shaped me. It's been terrifying, intimidating, empowering and meaningful. I've accomplished things on this trip I didn't know I could, and I've experienced things I never planned for. My confidence has increased tenfold after being stranded for these couple of days.
Was I stranded? Really? Stranded at the airport, yes. But I didn't have to board that plane. I could have gotten off when Cabe didn't get on, but I didn't.
I flew to Paris all by myself. I made my way to the hotel and to several areas of the city on my own, without the benefit of speaking the language or having any prior knowledge of the city.
I am stronger and more capable than I have given myself credit for.
Of course, once I met Jack, I was no longer on my own. Meeting him has changed me, too. He pushed me outside my comfort zone and gave me the courage to accomplish those things. He reminded me how much I love to laugh, and how good it feels to be wanted. How good it feels to be happy. Knowing the limit of our time pushed me to be vulnerable, to open myself up and allow him in without the usual bullshit I go through before falling for someone.
My heart aches to think I may never see him again. That this brief encounter is our only allotted time together in the grand scheme of life.
He asked if we could keep in touch, and I wrote my number on the back of a cocktail napkin at the hotel lobby bar and handed it to him. How clichéd. I cannot begin to imagine how any of that would work out, and I am certain it could only serve to complicate my life further, but I do know I couldn't just fly our separate ways and disappear forever. The time we shared meant too much.
I think striving to enjoy each moment this weekend made it painfully clear I haven't been living that way. I've wasted too much time overanalyzing, trapped in the past or paralyzed by fears about what the future may or may not bring with Cabe.
Whatever happens between Cabe and me back home, I know I need to stand up for myself and stop hiding my feelings in order to keep the peace. To keep from ruffling feathers so I wouldn't push him away.
I've tried to say what I thought was the right thing. To be considerate and put him first. To be who he needed me to be. I swallowed my hurt at him not contacting me when he came back because he was hurting and he needed me to be there for him. I haven't been honest with him since our relationship turned on its head New Year's Eve. Haven't really told him how I feel about him other than blurting out I love you as he threatened to leave that night. I've been holding back. Afraid to speak. Afraid to rock the boat. Afraid to upset him. Afraid to lose him.
You can't lose what you don't have, and I can't keep quiet anymore. I have to be open with Cabe. Lay my cards on the table and see how the game plays out.
I accomplished the things I did on this trip because I faced my fears, embraced the unknown, and went for what I wanted. When I get back, I need to tell Laura and Lillian I don't want the Lakeside manager position. I'm going to ask what is needed for my path to lead to senior planner.
It's amazing how many emotions you can feel at one time. Fear. Exhilaration. Inspiration. Grief. Joy. Hope. Sadness. A whirlwind rages within me as I write this. I am both excited and saddened by the changes that must happen as a consequence of what I've learned here.
Of course, part of the whirlwind inside me may be due to exhaustion. I've never walked so much in my life or climbed so many stairs. I'm actually looking forward to this long-ass flight so I can sleep.
Then wake up in Orlando and begin the rest of my life.
Flight Home
Why on earth would you wake someone up to ask if they want juice or water? I'm thinking if their eyes are closed and they're obviously sleeping, then they don't have thirst issues at that exact moment. I get that flight attendants have a schedule to adhere to. I understand they want to do one trip down the aisle for beverage service and it's inconvenient to keep getting requests from all over the plane after service concludes. But I say if someone is sleeping, they just missed their juice.
I'd been asleep about five hours, but I could easily have slept five more. Or ten.
Now I'm awake, and my brain is whirring and spinning. All that confidence and resolve felt great while I was sitting in the Paris airport, still safely ensconced in my snow globe world. But soon, I'll be getting off the plane. To what?
Will Cabe be there to pick me up? What will he say? Will he apologize profusely and beg me to forgive him? Or tell me he's decided we can't see each other anymore?
How will I feel when I see him? I left Orlando certain Cabe was The One and devastated he didn't seem to realize it. My feelings for him haven't changed, but the time I spent with Jack allowed me to see what happy can feel like without the fear. I want that. With Cabe. What if he's not capable of it? He keeps telling me he can't do this. What if he's right and I've just been holding on to the hope that he's wrong? I mean, if the man is telling me he can't, shouldn't I be listening to him?
Can I do that? Can I let him go? I don't know if I can. My heart screams no even as I write that. I love Cabe. He is my best friend. My confidante. My partner in so many ways. We've been through so much together. Weathered so much.
It's easy to be happy-go-lucky and upbeat for a weekend in Paris. It ain't real life. Cabe has been with me for real life.
Everyday life. Heartache and pain. Triumphs and joys. Can I really walk away from him because he doesn't make me laugh all the time? Because he isn't as carefree as some random stranger I met while we were both on vacation with no stress or responsibilities hanging over our shoulders?
Don't I owe Cabe more? Yes, I have to tell him how I feel. Yes, I need to stand up for myself. Loving someone doesn't mean they get a free pass to hurt you and take you for granted. But loving someone also means not giving up just because the going gets tough. Where does the line get drawn?
I'm exhausted again just thinking about it all. I wanted to sleep. To be oblivious for whatever time I had left before real life overtakes me on the ground and fully immerses me into its chaos and messiness. Damn flight attendant. Stupid juice.
I'm so glad I took the day off tomorrow. If I had to talk to a bride or groom right now, I'd probably convince them not to get married.
My job. Holy crap. Here I was talking all tough like I'm gonna walk in and tell Lillian Graham what I will and will not do. Ha! Okay. Like that's gonna happen. But I gotta do something. I don't want to hate my job.
I hoped writing my thoughts would make it easier to stop the hurricane blowing in my mind. I think I'm just getting more upset. Maybe I should watch a movie instead. Or maybe I'll push the attendant button and ask for more juice.
Home Again
He was there. Standing at the first available spot past security. My heart leapt at the sight of him, but anger and hurt slapped it back down and threatened it not to leap again. He moved forward to scoop me up in a big bear hug, and I stiffened. It seemed we'd been separated for much longer than a weekend.
He looked like hell. Like he'd been through the wringer.
"Oh my God, Ty. Are you okay? Are you alright?" He released me and held me
back to look me up and down, then squeezed me to him again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you. I tried to get on the plane. They wouldn't let me. I'm so sorry."
I shoved lightly against his chest. I needed space to breathe. I was tired. My emotions were raw. Anger simmered beneath the surface, battling for air alongside my wounded heart. One minute I wanted to burst into tears and cling to him, and the next I wanted to kick him in the nuts and walk away.
"What do you mean they wouldn't let you? Who's they?"
"Security. TSA. I walked past the security point without realizing what a pain in the ass that would be. I thought they'd let me skip the lines and the scanners since I'd already been through, but no. I tried to explain to them my flight was leaving and I didn't have time to wait. I guess I got a little belligerent."
He'd been belligerent with me that whole day. It took no stretch of the imagination to believe he'd been hostile with other people, too. Especially people standing in his way.
Numbness crept over me as his words sank in. I'd been furious with him all weekend, and the fury was the buffer I needed to get by. Not to mention the reason I made the choices I did while in Paris. But if he'd tried to get back to me—if he hadn't left me to travel alone on purpose—then it was a whole new ballgame. Uh-oh.
"They pulled me out to detain me, which definitely did nothing to improve my mood. When I heard my name announced for final boarding, I pretty much went ballistic. One thing led to another, and I kind of shoved a TSA agent. It appears the authorities don't look too highly on that sort of behavior. They had me in handcuffs before you were even off the ground."
I gasped. "Cabe! Are you okay?"
"I've been better, Buttercup. They held me here for about eleven hours questioning me to determine if I was a terror threat, and then when I passed that test, they arrested me for simple battery and sent me downtown. I couldn’t appear before a judge until Saturday morning, and then it was late Saturday afternoon before everything got processed for me to be released. I have to say, I met some really interesting folks in lock-up, and I have a date with a judge coming up, but I'm fine, all things considered. Just happy to see you and finally have you back in my arms. What about you? You okay? Please know I did everything I could to get back to you."
