The Beginning

Ch. 49 - The plan

She slings her purse over her shoulder and reaches for her carry-on, when he hooks a finger into her belt loop and pulls her against him.

Pressing his cheek against hers, he speaks in an affectionate whisper. "I know you're not big on the whole public thing, so I'm just going to kiss your cheek, right now. But I'll be thinking of your lips when I do."

His touch sends licks of electricity through her veins, from his petal soft lips to his finger tips digging into her waist.

She leans into him, her head falling back ever so slightly, yearning for the crowd to disappear.

Yet over his shoulder, she sees two teenagers whispering to each other. Did the short one just point?

She leans away from him.

Over his other shoulder, a newsstand has him on the cover.

Her head seems to fill with cement. She rubs the back of her neck, hair falling over her face. "Okay, have a good flight! I mean week. I'm on a flight. I'll be flying."

With a gentle bite of his lip, he suppresses a smile, promising to call her when he returns.

"Whenever. No biggie," she shrugs, stepping a safe distance away before turning to walk down the long, passenger boarding bridge to the waiting aircraft. On board at last, she settles into her seat, palms pressed against her eyes before raising them as though she were consulting with God. She rummages through her purse, retrieving a long, flat, foil-wrapped stick of gum, relieved when the flight attendant started the announcements. With every passing minute, she feels her strength return.

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The next morning, Sandra pulls a blouse out of her suitcase, carefully folding it and setting it aside. She is slow to unpack: each piece sparking a memory of where she was when she wore it, how he took it off of her... 

Gesine stands silently, leaning against her doorway, observing as Sandra runs her thumb along the tips of her fingers before finally grabbing another item from her bag. "What's on your mind, sis?"

"Huh? What?" Sandra drops her hand like a lead ball.

"You've been unpacking that suitcase for an hour, now."

She squints, then looks away, her mouth opening and closing several times with no words.

"Did you figure out a plan?"

Sandra clutches her stomach, a sensation of boiling water rising up to her chest and just as suddenly, retreating. Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, she wiggles her head and quickly walks across the room to hang up more dresses.

Flashes of the fateful night of her breakup force their way back into her mind.

When Gesine arrived at the Chateau Marmont the morning after that first night Sandra spent with Keanu, Gesine wasn't sure whether she should console or congratulate her. There was no hiding the rumpled hair, no confusing the previous night's dress. Even without those clues, they knew each other far too well to be able to pull off that large of a secret.

Sandra didn't necessarily want to say it out loud, however.

The next couple of days were somber around the cottage as she quietly packed up Nathan's things, things that had accumulated over the course of their four year relationship. She'd picked up and then hung up her phone so many times during those days, fingers poised to dial his number and beg for forgiveness and another chance. She felt a tightness in her chest when she recalled their explosive ending outside of the restaurant. Was it remorse? Guilt? Embarrassment at her indifference after that much time spent together? Each feeling ran together, culminating in a list of symptoms in her body.