Chapter Thirty-Nine
Krystina
“You’re sure about this?” Ethan asked as he parked the truck at the airport. It was almost two in the morning and I had a three am flight. Gloria was planning on meeting me at the other end. I was going home for Christmas.
I nodded. I was exhausted and dehydrated from crying quietly for the last twelve hours.
“He saw me when we left. He didn’t come to stop me. He would have if he wanted to, Gentry Hollis always goes for what he wants. I’m just not that it appears.”
“You don’t know that Krys… after you left the first time. He barely made it the last time.”
“He will make it this time too,” I grabbed some of my bags from the truck. “I’m just a memory Ethan. Nothing more, just a dream we attempted to relive. He couldn’t forgive me. I tried but he told me I didn’t belong here.”
Ethan shook his head but carried my bags into the airport anyhow.
“Now don’t forget,” I wiped the tears from my cheeks yet again. “Keep an eye on Duke until I can send for him. And see everyone gets their Christmas gifts. All of them are under the tree. All except Marissa’s. Fi’s should have it day after,” I glanced at the big clock on the airport wall, “well, she should have it tomorrow now.”
“I’ll get it done,” Ethan promised. He hugged me tightly, holding me close. “Gentry’s just stubborn, you know that. Just because he doesn’t have it figured out now doesn’t mean he won’t have it figured out tomorrow. So I’ll ask I guess, as his brother, and as your friend, stay.”
I squeezed Ethan tightly for one last moment before stepping back. “Thanks, for everything.”
I blamed the wobble and shakiness of my steps on the high heeled boots. On the fact that I hadn’t been in heels since the last time I walked through this airport, but that wasn’t true.
***
Gloria had caved and chopped off her hair in a typical mom fashion this last year. She looked good and I knew this was the first time she had been out of sweats all week. She told me so.
Damion could afford a nanny but Gloria would hear of it. Having a one year old daughter and a three-year-old son came with challenges. Her mom helped out a lot enjoying having grandbabies.
“Got enough bags?” she asked as we stood at the baggage claim following our lengthy and excited hello. Exhaustion had met its match in us, for now at least.
“I doubled my wardrobe out there. I brought the ranch the clothes back with me. And there is Christmas presents in there too.”
“Are we going to talk about it?”
“It’s not even six – thirty. Unless you have several gallons of Irish coffee then no, not now.”
“It’s likely to be one of our best kid free moments.”
“I’m aware,” I said dryly.
“You we’re also aware that my brother was, is, one of the most prideful people you have ever met.”
“You’re siding with him!”
“No. I’m trying to talk sensible. He won’t answer his damn phone so it’s your ear I bend.”
“How about you catch me up on Trenton and Mila?”
“That’s cruel using my mommienss against me.”
“Shit happens.”