[[[the wonderful mess that we've made]]] [[[part iii]]]

47.

I raced out of the house as fast as my injured leg would take me. I'd never been late for anything in my life, but that morning my phone had died along with its alarm and I had only an hour to make it across London and through the airport. The traffic was tailing back for miles as I sat in the taxi, helpless. I had no way of phoning ahead to tell Dan that I was probably going to miss the flight. What if he thought I'd changed my mind? We were at such a critical point with our relationship and one little slip up would destroy any trust we'd worked hard for.

The seconds were ticking by faster than my taxi could move. What if this was a sign? An omen? Maybe everything that had happened was to keep us apart? Fate had a nasty way of turning things on their heads. We'd been bought together by fate and torn apart by over reaction and emotions. I didn't want this to end. I wanted Dan and I wanted us.