Steve sat across from Michelle in the airport bar, sharing a beer with her. There was no long conversation but only small talk about her flight and his that left two hours later in the opposite direction. He was supposed to stay an extra couple of days but changed his plans, not wanting to, nor able to go back to the hotel without her. He loved this country but he was almost certain he would never return to Thailand either, at least not without her.
She looked at her phone, "I should make my way over to the gate. They'll be boarding soon."
He slid off the chair and thru a couple of dollars on the table, leaving the half drunk beer.
Michelle took a hold of her carry on handle as they started walking down toward gate nine.
He reached down sensing her sadness and took her hand as they walked slowly, while other passengers hurried by them as if rushing to their destination. Steve and Michelle on the other hand were in no hurry.
They took two chairs over by the window and no sooner did they sit down when the announcement came on for first class passengers to board. Her seat was in row fifteen, so she was going to board last.
Steve stood up and took her hand, making their way over behind a large pillar, out of sight.
He put his hands on her face, wanting to say so many things to her, but unable to think of what they were now. His mind was racing as the long line for boarding began to move. She stared up at him as the first tear fell from her eyes. He rested his forehead against hers. "Please don't cry," he practically begged, not sure he could take it. "I can't believe, and I don't believe this is the last time we will see each other." He pulled back using his thumb to wipe away several others that followed the first one. The anxiety he felt at the moment was torture. He had fallen in love with her, he was sure of it. He had no other explanation for the misery that engulfed him over this separation. It was worse than he had anticipated it to be, so much worse. He put his arms around her as she clung to his shirt, her face buried in his neck. "We'll work it out."
She wanted to tell him she loved him so badly. It was right on the tip of her tongue, but considering their circumstance it felt unfair to say it to him now. "I'm going to wait for you," she shuttered, pulling back so she could see him. "You don't have to wait for me, if you meet someoneā¦" Before she could get the words out he kissed her. It was soft but enough to stop her from finishing that thought. She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in more, giving him a kiss he would never forget.
It was bittersweet taking what she was offering up to him at that second. He didn't want to break away from it but at the same time it hurt knowing he had no idea when it would happen again.
They broke but still remained close.
"Listen to me," he said to her, glancing over at the line that was only a few people now, having heard the final call for all passengers to board. He looked back at her, wanting to tell her he loved her, but was torn over what that would do to her and how he could live up to it after she was gone. "I'll get in touch with you as soon as I can, ok?"
She nodded, wondering if that's what he really wanted to say judging by the long pause and the regretful expression on his face now. He walked her over to the chair and took her carry on as they made their way to the door to the walkway.
She handed the woman her boarding pass, being the last one. She turned back and hugged him one last time. "Thank you Steve for the best four days of my life. Whatever happens now, I'll never regret a second of any of it. I'll write you. I promise. I'll write you on the plane. Watch for it." She kissed him quickly, seeing his eyes misted over which only made the moment so much more agonizing. She turned and walked away pulling her carry on behind her, fighting with everything she had not to break down right then and there.
He stood there watching her as she turned and glanced at him one last second before turning the corner, leaving him with one of those stellar smiles that could make him weak, and then she was gone.
He walked away from the gate not having any clue where he was going; he just walked. He felt like he was in a fog. His thoughts consumed with the things she said to him and things he said to her and the things he didn't say that he should have. He put his hand over his heart, trying to ease the pain that suddenly over took him. How could he just let her go? How could he take these last few days he spent with her and not realize what had happened between them was real. Had he become so cynical to his own happiness that he didn't even realize how happy he was until it was too late. He should have told her. He should have made it crystal clear that he would do anything possible to keep them together.
He stopped in the middle of the walkway as people hurried by him, feeling the unstoppable urge to tell her now. He turned around and began walking back toward the gate until he was in a full sprint, coming up to the door as the woman who had taken her ticket closed it.
"Wait!" he said in a panic. "I need to see someone on that plane really quick!"
She looked up at him shaking her head. "No," she said in broken English but with a heavy Thai accent. "Doors close now."
"Please! I just need two seconds!" he pleaded.
"Doors closed now." She repeated, closing it once again as he reached up and put his hand on it, stopping her.
"You can give me a second!"
She let go and took his arm, leading him over to the window, pointing toward the plane as it began to back away from the skywalk. "See, doors closed. Too late now."
He stared at her plane as it moved her further and further away from him. He was too late. He should have said what he wanted to say. He'd let her walk out with nothing.
He sat down in a chair and just stared out the window until it was gone, never in his life feeling so lost and so lonely. He couldn't move, it was literally the worst feeling that he'd ever come across.
He didn't know how long he sat there just thinking about her. It gave him comfort amongst the turmoil. He considered texting her, but knew that would be wrong and to say what he needed to over the phone felt just as impersonal, knowing he should have said it to her face. He decided to wait for her letter and then find some way to put it into words. He'd never written one before but knew what he wanted say, and actually felt a sigh of relief knowing he could say it on paper where he wouldn't stumble, it would be laid out in black and white and then she could take it from there.
The first signs of their separation hit him as he wondered if this distance between them would sustain these feelings they had now. He was sure his would, but he couldn't speak for her, all he could do was just wait. Wait for that letter she promised him that would be his answer.
Michelle undid the seat belt after they had leveled out and stood up, making her way down the aisle to the restroom. Once inside she closed the door and leaned her head against it as the tears just erupted. She wanted to fall down on the ground and just sob. She never should have got on the plane without telling him. What if he was waiting for it from her? What if that's what he wanted to say but was afraid of her reply. He was the only person in her life who she truly could trust and she had just let him go. She must have been out of her mind. She flashed back to their last departure after visiting him in the hospital, leaving her medal behind with him knowing then he was something special, and to be thrown back into the mix in such an unexpected fashion was like fate granting her a second chance, and what did she do, she threw it away.
She pulled down some towels and wiped her face off, looking at her expression in the mirror, gone was that glow that appeared four days earlier after their first meeting, now only a shadow of it remained. He was genuine and honest, but more than anything else she was sure he would find a way to be with her again. She needed to tell him everything she was feeling, already putting it into words; she just needed the paper to write it out.
