Eighteen

Misha

Something about airports always fascinated me, watching businessmen and women always in a hurry with their heads down, eyes glued to tablets, smart phones and even old-fashioned planners.

Then there were the travelers, the tourists all eager and hopeful for a week or more of adventure and excitement from their normal lives. The returning travelers were less hopeful and more exhausted but still, there was a glint of adventure in their eyes. They knew something. Something more about the world that their friends and neighbors didn’t.

It was a powerful feeling. One I had every time I returned from my travels. I loved to experience other cultures, and immersed myself in it for the duration of my stay. Learning new things, seeing how different yet how similar things and people were, allowed me to return home to my next contract refreshed and ready to work.

Which is exactly what I anticipated feeling after I returned from a month in New Zealand. My contract with Ethan was officially over. After his call last night, I finished packing and headed for the airport even though I still had another five hours before my flight took off. I looked forward to getting away from everything. A month—or more—of early morning surfing, eating and enjoying the country.

I would enjoy the simplicity of traveling alone and I think, no, I’m certain that it was the perfect plan to help me get over a heartache I didn’t know I needed to protect myself against. I never get involved with clients, ever. But the one time I did, I went and fell in love with him. I fell in love with Ethan Mahoney. I didn’t even realize it was happening. I didn’t know it was love that had me all twisted up inside until I was suddenly kicked out of his life.

It was a hell of a way to find out, but I don’t regret it. Well I don’t regret most of it, I couldn’t if I wanted to. Falling for Ethan had been easy. Probably too easy based on stories I’ve heard and now paid the price for my hubris. I never even got a chance to enjoy being in love for real. The way that I felt about Ethan eclipsed the other times I thought I might be in love. Had I realized it sooner, maybe I could have really enjoyed that feeling.

Now it was just a barely formed memory.

Still, I had plenty of time to kill before they would even start boarding my flight, so I stopped at some overpriced café for a cheese Danish and a tuna salad on a croissant. Eating my feelings because I could and because airplane food was crap. Even in first class it was just better quality crap. But at least I would be comfortable on the long flight ahead.

As I walked the different terminals, the food sat like lead in my stomach. My thoughts were filled with Ethan. His smile and his laugh. Those piercing blue eyes and even his strict dedication to being healthy all the time. I decided to indulge in the heartache, for now anyway. Once I landed in New Zealand I would banish all thoughts of Ethan Mahoney whenever they cropped up. Until then, I would allow my mind to wander to him. To be sad and cry for the loss of him in my life and then I would move on. Move forward.

Be happy.

I finally made my way back to my own terminal and took a seat in the Sky Lounge. I pulled out my tablet to distract me but also to discourage other people from engaging me, especially the businessmen with that frequent flyer look about them. I found a small velvet pouch in there that I knew didn’t belong to me and I pulled it out. Inside was a small white box with a big black M on it that I recognized. Heart thudding so hard I felt it in my throat, I pulled out the black pearl ring I’d drooled over in Tokyo. I wanted it so bad but I couldn’t justify spending a small fortune on a ring I wouldn’t get to wear.

Because this ring was always yours. Wear it every day, even with sneakers. Love, Ethan

Love. What a joke because of course, he meant love in a love all mankind type of deal, not in a love of my life way that might give me hope. Still, the sight of the black pearl ring had tears burning my eyes before trekking down my cheeks. This ring had to mean something, it had to. Not marriage and babies of course, but not nothing either. Right?

I felt so conflicted about everything and I knew that leaving right now was best. For everyone. Still I had one call to make for a smile before I left. “Hey Dad.”

“Misha, my girl! How’s things?”

“All right, Dad. I’m headed to New Zealand for a bit. How are you?”

He laughed and the sound soothed me like the balm that it was. “I’m just fine, going camping with a lady friend this weekend so Opal can do another shroom study.” Opal was a family friend who’d been around most of my life and she was always testing some theory or another. “What happened? I know your contract isn’t over because all the TV is talking about is Ethan and Samantha Stevens part two. So, tell me what happened.”

I sighed, telling him some of the story but not all. “He said he didn’t need me anymore so I’m taking some time off before my next contract.”

“You’re running, you mean.”

I couldn’t even be mad because it wasn’t a judgment, just a fact. “Maybe I am but this isn’t about me, Dad. Ethan needs to nail this interview today and he will, without any distractions from me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure Misha. I’m looking at him right now and he doesn’t look so hot.”

I scrambled with my tablet before pulling up the live video of Ethan standing in the green room, looking pale and nervous. “Hang on, Dad.” I pulled up Ethan’s number and let my thumbs fly over the keyboard as I typed up what I hoped was an encouraging, not clinging, message. “I think this is for the best.”

“For him, not you? Listen to me girl, sometimes it has to be about you. You have a right to have emotions and feelings Misha.”

“You’re right, which is why I never should have fallen for a client. Starting any relationship on that foot creates the wrong dynamic.” At least that’s what I was telling myself.

“I’m serious. Why don’t you stick around, see what happens when this interview is over?”

“Dad it’s been a while since he ended things and I’ve heard from him once. Last night when he had nerves about the interview.” When he needed my professional services. Message received.

“Men compartmentalize honey. He won’t want to deal with anything until this interview is behind him. Trust me.”

“I do Dad, but I’m still going. I’ll touch base when I land but I just wanted you to know I was taking off.”

“Have fun Misha, my love. I’m sure things will work out how they’re meant to.”

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too. Think about what I said?”

I thought about his words for a long time. While I watched the first few minutes of his interview I thought about sticking around, seeing if anything would change. But I was a woman who didn’t, or who tried not to, read between the lines. By the time I was settled in my first-class seat I vowed that I would believe what Ethan said. He didn’t need me.

I sent a wish out into the universe that his interview would do everything he needed in order to restore his reputation.

And then I gave in to one final dream of Ethan Mahoney before I let go of this pain, this love. This longing.