Chapter Forty-Seven
Amelia
The bus ride was a blur. I ignored everyone and everything around me. I stared out the window, but didn’t see the scenery. Instead I saw a series of scenes in my mind as I replayed the week with Rory: every conversation, every kiss, every caress. Over and over. Tears dripped from my eyes, and I brushed them away.
I knew I’d made the right decision—spending another day and night with him would have been agony—but that didn’t make it any easier, didn’t make me miss him any less.
What had he thought when he’d read the letter? Was he relieved to get out of the prolonged goodbye? Was he sad that I’d left without telling him? Was it both?
Had he been surprised by the extent of my feelings for him? Did he feel the same way? Does it even matter now?
After six hours, we finally pulled into the airport. I blew my nose, dried my eyes.
I turned off the video in my mind. Rory and I were a moment in time, an interlude. And now the moment was over—a memory, one of so many from this trip.
I’d given myself the long bus ride to grieve for what might have been. Now I needed to focus on what was. On getting home to Carrie, on preparing for Miami and my new job.
We pulled up to the curb. I shouldered my pack and stepped off the bus to begin my journey home.
I checked in, dropped off my bag, and limped through the terminal toward security. My knee was sore after the long bus ride, and it would be even worse after the long flight. I would just take it slow; I was in no rush. Besides, after hiking eighty miles on Skye, the airport was a piece of cake.
There was a Starbucks before the checkpoint. I hadn’t eaten lunch, and it was a while until I’d get dinner on the plane, so I stopped to pick up a coffee and a pastry.
I turned from the counter—and nearly ran into someone. His hands came out to steady me, and I looked up into eyes the color of a stormy sea. My heart stopped, then began to pound.
“Rory?”
Was I hallucinating from lack of caffeine and food? No, his hands on my arms were warm and strong, and I could smell the citrusy soap he’d used that morning—was that really just this morning?
“Aye, it’s me,” he said with a slightly sardonic quirk of his lips.
“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought my note explained things.” I didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved or thrilled.
“It did. But I wanted to say goodbye to you the right way,” he said.
He took the coffee and paper bag from my hands and put them—somewhere.
And then he kissed the hell out of me.
It was angry at first—on both sides. I’d wanted a clean break; he obviously hadn’t. Then his arms came around me, and he crushed me to him, pulling me up on my tiptoes. I clutched his shoulders and just held on as our kisses went from angry to passionate to tender, as he lowered me so that my feet were on the floor, his hands cupping my face as mine twined in his hair.
Finally we drew apart, both of us breathless. “I—how did you get here?”
“I threw his ass into the car and drove him.”
I dragged my eyes from Rory’s face and turned to see Tommy standing a few feet away, holding my coffee and Starbucks bag. He raised the cup in salute.
I dropped into a chair, completely overwhelmed. Rory pulled over another one and sat facing me. “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you one last time.” He took my hands in his. “Are you mad?”
I gazed into those luminous eyes, so full of emotion, and sighed. “How could I be mad?” And it was true. Even though I’d told myself I wanted a clean break, I was thrilled that he cared enough to come after me. “But it doesn’t change anything, Rory.”
He nodded. “I know it doesn’t.”
Tommy grabbed coffees for the two of them, and we sat for a few minutes. And then it was time. We got to our feet. Rory went to the men’s room. I turned to Tommy, who pulled me into a hug.
“I’m really glad you made him come, Tommy. He’s lucky to have you for a friend.”
“And you were lucky to have him—there’s no better man to be found.”
“I know.”
“He was lucky to have you, too, Amelia, however briefly. I wish you could stay. You make him happy. And if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s him.”
“He makes me happy, too,” I whispered. “And I wish I could stay, believe me. But I can’t. I need to get home to my friend, to the job I’m starting.”
“Aye, I know.” The smile left his face. “I hope our paths will cross again one day soon, Amelia Benson.”
“Me, too.”
He hugged me again, pulling back just as Rory returned. “I’m going to take a walk while you two say your goodbyes. Rory, I’ll meet you back here.”
Rory drew me into his arms. I laid my cheek against his heart and just held on. I didn’t know what to say, and it seemed he didn’t, either.
I couldn’t let this drag out any longer. I mustered up a big smile. “Thank you, Rory. For agreeing to help me finish the trek. For facing your own demons so I didn’t have to quit. For this past week, which has been the most amazing adventure.” Tears flooded my eyes. “And…and for everything else,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears, and stared down at me with gray-green, shimmery eyes. “And thank you for helping me face those demons, for making me feel alive for the first time in so long. I…”
He started to say something else, then shook his head and kissed me instead, sweetly, tenderly, as if this was a first kiss and not a last one. I kissed him back the same way, but just when my fingers started to creep up into his hair, he pulled back and took my hand.
“Fly safe. And get your knee checked out as soon as you can.” I nodded. “And will you let me know how Carrie’s doing?”
“I will. Goodbye, Rory.”
“Goodbye, Amelia. Mar sin leat, a ghaoil.”
He pressed his lips to my hand one last time, and then I turned and walked away, our fingers touching until they couldn’t touch anymore.