The Return Flight
Gillian packed only the bare essentials. Toothbrush, hairbrush, clean underclothes and a change of shirt and jeans. Nothing to indicate whether she was going for one night, or maybe, if she was lucky….. more.
To dare to hope, was painful. But as she threw random objects in the overnight bag, she found her stomach flipping over in anticipation. Butterflies? Hell, this was whole flock of birds. With wings fluttering madly, and pecking at her insides, the thought of seeing him sentnot only feelings of flight, but of pain, at the same time.
Gillian had waited for this, if she was honest with herself. She knew that she would never have had the courage to call out to him, beg him to listen, and to forgive. She’d never thought… that maybe he already had.
Rushing through her apartment, she turned on the small overhead light in the tiny kitchen, all she’d ever needed just for herself, since no one ever came here. This had been her sanctuary, her hidey-hole, away from the rest of the world. The place where she could huddle in her lost past, and wallow in the guilt she felt. Honestly, it was another form of self-torture, this tiny prison of an apartment. It was where she figured she belonged, alone, without even friends to keep her company. She’d been the life of the party for years, keeping her friends in stitches with her outrageous stories. But she always went home alone. This place kept the world at bay, outside her interior walls, where her pride and obstinacy lived.
God, they had both been so proud, so unwilling to bend, to be honest and vulnerable. But that was all about to change. Gillian was going to make sure that this time she was honest. About everything.
Grabbing her purse, she slung the overnight bag over one shoulder and dragged her apartment door open, remembering to pull her keys out and stuff them into her pocket. Awful way to start her new life if she got locked out of the apartment and had to have the super let her back in, just for that.
Optimism was going to be her keyword for the next few days.
She’d be so full of sunshine and rainbows, people would think she’d been mauled by a unicorn. Until she got a moment alone with Sam.
Then, finally, they’d be able to talk. Really talk. And let the weight of all those years fall behind them. His accident, her betrayal and cowardice, their last fight, and her leaving, it would all be alright. As long as she held onto this small sliver of hope. And she could hang on, she had to.
Now, she just had to remember how to drive while blinded by foggy emotions and fluttering birds in her chest. All the way home. And back – to Sam.
- FFT – Gillian’s Rest (breaaire.wordpress.com)
- FFT-The Call (breaaire.wordpress.com)
- FFT-Time Was (breaaire.wordpress.com)