“They were…” I couldn’t finish my sentence, because I was crying too hard, but also because there were no words to explain how Devin made me feel when I was in his presence. I could make stabs at it. Comforted. Safe. Happy. Understood. Appreciated.
Loved.
“I’m not going to hurt you, not even to punish you,” said Milo, somberly. “I’m not going to take you to The Gallery as my submissive. Ever. I wouldn’t do that to my friend, and I wouldn’t do it to you.”
“Then what do I do with these feelings? How can I move on?”
“Admit that you feel them, first of all. Do you love Devin or not?”
My pitiful sobs were enough of an answer. Milo tsked and handed me the entire box of tissues, along with a trash can to throw them into.
“I think you need to talk to Devin,” he said. “Unfortunately, he’s in Toronto until Friday. You could meet him there.” He looked at his watch, then back at me. “You could fly there in a matter of hours.”
“Fly?” Fear choked me before I even said the word. “The thing is, I have this really bad fear of flying. A phobia, really.”
“I know. Devin told me.” Milo gave me a sadistic stare-down.
I wrung my hands, grasping for some other way. “Maybe I could…”
“Maybe you could drive there, yeah,” he said, stealing my cowardly thoughts. “Or maybe you could swallow your fears and get on a plane for love.”
“But the possibilities…”
I meant the possibilities of crashing or running out of fuel, or having to land in Lake Ontario, but Milo replied, “Yeah, the possibilities.”
And that was pretty much that.
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Devin
I was at the hotel waiting for room service when my phone dinged, displaying a text from Milo.
U there?
I typed a Y for yes, pushing my suitcase aside so I could sit on the bed. Another text came through a moment later.
Dude. Ella came to see me.
Her name jolted me. The fact that she’d gone to see Milo jolted me more. Is she okay?
Debatable.
That was snark. So Ella wasn’t in trouble, or sick, or dying. Why did she come to see u? I asked.
Cause of her feeeeelings, Milo typed. I told her to go to Toronto, to see you. Still there til Fri?
I blinked at my phone. Yes.
OK
That was all he answered. OK. That was all he typed, while I had a thousand questions. Why had she gone to him? Was she still with him? What the hell had they talked about? Had he touched her?
Can she come there? he finally typed. You two need to talk.
Fuck, I wanted to talk to Ella like crazy, but I didn’t know what to say, how to level the wall she’d put up between us. I wasn’t the genius of the relationship. And even if she wanted to come see me, how would she get here?
She won’t get on a plane, I texted. She’s afraid to fly.
I know, bozo. I’m sitting beside her. He typed a monster emoji. She’s a mess.
What? You’re sitting beside her where?
On a plane. I’m bringing her to u. But she’s a fucking mess, just saying. Good lust with this one.
Good lust? What did he mean by that? Had he slept with her? Jealousy consumed me, set me on fire, until he texted again.
fuck good FUCK.
My fingers pounded out my reply. WTF MAN?
Gah. Good LUCK. Autocorrect. I didn’t touch her. He texted four more monster faces. I have to turn off my phone soon. Tell me your hotel.
I typed the hotel and address. You’re bringing her here? I asked. Now?
Yeah, but I’m turning around at the airport. Fuck. Hold on.
There was nothing then, for almost three minutes. I counted the seconds. I imagined Ella flipping out, or passing out, or screaming to be let off the plane. Then he was back.
I’m leaving her at the airport, he typed. She can make it to your hotel on her own.
No, I’ll come to the airport. Flight #?
He texted the info as I stared at the screen, wishing I could see her sitting beside him. What would she say when we were together? What if everything went haywire again? What if our strange connection didn’t connect again? Is she okay? I typed.
Yes.
Tell her I want to see her too. Tell her I’ll be here.
Another pause, then three blinking dots. OK. She’s so afraid. Then, a moment later: This is love, man. Disgusting. I’m turning off my phone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ella
Flying with Milo was nothing like flying with Devin. For one thing, the plane didn’t run out of fuel and have to crash land. But the other thing was that Devin had been a pilot, and Milo wasn’t. Devin had reassured me, and answered all my questions about the noises and motions of the plane. Milo told me to breathe when the panic rose up to choke me, but that was about it.
Of course, I was grateful he’d booked our tickets and come with me. I wasn’t sure I could have flown to Devin on my own, even though I desperately wanted to see him. I was afraid, afraid to talk to him, afraid to admit my stupid fears, afraid of everything I felt for him. Afraid he would treat me as coolly and insensitively as I’d treated him.
Milo said he wouldn’t. He said Devin wasn’t like that, then he gave me that look, the look that said I was like that.
God, I’d been such an idiot.
It’s because I was afraid, I wanted to say. Theoretical astrophysicists could be afraid and stupid. Devin had saved my life, changed my life, defended me from Leo the asshole, removing the barrier that curtailed my freedom. He’d punched out his best friend because he thought he was hurting me, because he was damaged from his past, like all of us.
I made a soft sound of dismay. Milo looked over at me, then at his watch. “We’re almost there. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I held to his words through the descent over Lake Ontario, and the bumpy landing in Toronto. I cried a little as we touched down, clinging to the armrests as Milo shook his head in mockery. Then he cleaned my glasses while I dried my eyes. We’d arrived. We were safe, rolling up to the gate.
“Okay, kid,” said Milo. “Don’t fuck this up.”
We got off the plane, navigating from the back of the cabin as I glared impatiently at the other passengers. I’d brought an overnight bag, but Milo had nothing, since he was turning around to go back. I didn’t have a ticket to go back, although, shit, I’d eventually have to get on another plane to go home. I chose not to think about that as we navigated customs.
“You should text Dev,” said Milo. “Find out where he is.”
I took out my phone, staring at the screen. This was a new start, possibly the start of something messy and emotional, and maybe…long-term. I thought of my father, who loved my mother unconditionally, through the backwards and forwards of time, and realized how brave that was. If he could love her so deeply, for so long, then I could love someone, too.
I brought up Devin’s name and composed a text. I’m here.
He answered right away, like he’d been waiting. Good. I’m outside customs.
My fingers hovered over my screen. There were so many thoughts in my head. Are you mad at me? I want to see you. I’m sorry for pushing you away. I was afraid on the plane, but I flew here anyway because you mean something to me.
You mean a lot to me.