I had no reason to run. My flight was gone, and no deadline was waiting for me. This wasn't my last chance to tell Rhys how I felt. It was the first chance I had to get back to him.
I pushed through the security exit with my bag bumping against my leg. The glass doors opened just before I reached them. Outside, I stumbled to the curb and stopped in the cold sunlight, breathing hard.
There wasn't a cab in sight. I searched for car services near Cape Lark and called the first number. The line was busy. I stared at my phone, then at the mostly empty lot. For a moment, I considered whether anyone would stop if I tried to flag them down.
Then I saw a red car turn into the lot.
A man got out. The wind lifted his hair, and I knew him before he looked up.
When Rhys saw me, he stopped beside the open door. I started toward him, then heard a horn as a car swerved around me. I broke into a run. Rhys came forward too, and we met between the parked cars.
“You're here,” he said, trying to catch his breath.
I couldn't answer at first. He looked at me and said, “You left without saying goodbye.”
“I couldn't.”
His brows drew together. We stood there, neither of us moving.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“What?”
“Did you drive all this way just to say goodbye?”
He rubbed the back of his head and glanced toward the trees at the edge of the lot. When he looked at me again, the tightness in his mouth made my chest hurt.
“Why aren't you on the plane?”
“It was going the wrong way.”
He gave a small, uncertain shake of his head.
“You told me I have to decide what I want,” I said. “That I can't keep letting everyone else decide for me.”
“I meant it.”
“Even if the person deciding is me?”
“What do you mean?”
I stepped closer. “Do you get to decide what will make me happy?”
His forehead creased. “I wasn't trying to.”
“You were, and I understand why. I could come back here, and six months from now decide I want to do something completely different. Maybe I take up pottery. Maybe I decide I want to study whales.”
“Whales I can understand.”
“And then everything could fall apart again. Worse than before. We might not find our way back to each other.”
He lowered his chin. “That could happen.”
“I don't know what I want to do next for work,” I said. “I'll need another job, one I hate less, and I'll keep paying down my loans while I figure out the rest. But I know what I don't want.”
I took a breath. “I don't want to be exhausted all the time. I don't want my schedule to keep me apart from everyone I love, or to be called in when I'm supposed to be on a date. I don't want to spend all day standing until my hands crack from washing them. I don't want to have no time or energy for anything outside work because every bit of me goes into a job I don't even like. I don't want to treat my life like a test I only pass at the end. I want to enjoy the days I'm living, not just hope they lead somewhere better.”
“And I don't want to live hours away from you or your family. I don't want to miss your holidays. I want to fall asleep with my feet against your calves because they're warm. I don't want to give up your old work shirts. And I won't leave without making sure you understand that I trust myself. You can tell me to go, and I will. But you don't get to call it noble or tell yourself you were right.”
His eyes widened. “Right about what?”
“About any of it!” My voice rose. “That I don't want you. That you can't make me happy. That flying back to Seattle is what I want. That you're the lucky one in this relationship when I've been the lucky one. That our imaginary pantry championship is a real sport, or that glasses belong on the bottom rack of the dishwasher. You can tell me no, Rhys. But you can't decide that no is what I want. If you're too scared to trust me, say that. Don't pretend you're giving me what I asked for.”
“Mara,” he said, his voice rough.
I waited, afraid of what he would say.
He held my face in both hands. “I'm scared.”
We were quiet for a moment. The wind moved a curl across my cheek.
“Oh,” I said.
His expression softened. He brushed my hair back and swallowed before he spoke.
“When I woke up, your side of the bed was cold. I wanted to bring you back, even for one more minute. I couldn't, so I followed you. If you hadn't come out here, I was going to buy a ticket. If you were already on the plane, I would have boarded too. Once we landed, I'd have found you; if I missed you in the crowd, I'd keep searching until I did. I kept trying to plan how I could get to you, and on the drive here I understood what that meant.”
“Which is?”
“I would go anywhere to be with you. If you come back to the coast and later realize you need to be somewhere else, we'll find a way to make it work. I'd rather see you a few days a year than spend every day with someone else. I'd rather disagree with you than not speak to you. Together or apart, I'm yours. So let's be together as much as we can, for as long as we can, starting now. We'll work out the rest later.”
“Rhys,” I said, my voice unsteady. “Are you saying I can come home?”
“I'm saying it's not home without you.”
I put my arms around him. The wind pushed against us, but I held on.
“I love you.”
“I'll love you wherever we end up.”
He kissed me. My hair caught between our faces, and we both laughed before he kissed me again.
This was where I wanted to be.