Elizabeth has doubts, and a decision to make. Based on a prompt from Mobazan.
Elizabeth stood at the terminal window, chewing the inside of her lip, absentmindedly watching the organized chaos of air traffic on the tarmac outside as her thoughts raced frantically. Her stomach was bursting with rioting butterflies. This could only have one outcome, because she only purchased a one-way ticket. But her logic warred with her heart, and she still doubted her decision. She pressed a hand to her belly, trying to staunch the rising panic. Her breath fogged the glass as she inhaled deeply, then blew out a breath, and she rubbed away the condensation with the sleeve of her sweater.
Henry had been pushing her to move out with him for the summer while he was stationed in Miramar. This was their last chance to be together, he insisted, knowing he'd be deployed at the end of his flight training. She'd graduate in December, and then the CIA would dictate her own training location. And while she missed him tremendously, and knew he was right, part of her was downright terrified- that they wouldn't be the same, that time and circumstances had changed them both, too much, and their relationship couldn't survive. He belonged to the Marines now, not her, and their days wouldn't be filled with studying and books and passionate discussions of philosophers and politics. The distance wore on their relationship, snatching an hour here and there with Henry trying, and often failing, to mask his exhaustion from the 11-hour drive from Pensacola. He couldn't do the same from California, and the time zone from West Coast to East made coordinating their schedules difficult. They'd hardly spoken on the phone, and when they did, their conversations were more stilted and tense than loving and, well, normal. She'd listen to his monologue full of military terminology and flying exploits, but only heard half of his words. Her noncommittal responses were sufficient, or seemed to be anyway, and he'd dutifully ask about her latest classes or progress on her thesis. They still ended with "I love you," but that phrase was becoming more mechanical than meaningful. Even the frequency of Henry's letters had become more sporadic, which worried her more than she wanted to admit. But at least when she was here and he was there, she could pretend his absence was temporary and when she hung up the phone, could put aside her fears and trepidations of his life now. She'd figured out how to function quite well without him, and the gaping hole left by his absence shrunk a bit more each day. She could survive on her own, damnit, and would need to for longer than just the time he'd already been gone if they wanted a future together. To take this step was acknowledging reality, and she wasn't quite sure her heart could handle the outcome.
She felt silly asking to postpone her internship, like a besotted teenage girl who couldn't function without her high school crush. She had never been that girl, and always promised herself she never would be that girl. But that didn't mean she couldn't follow her heart, right? Love mattered, Henry had convinced her of that, first with his words, then with his actions. Their love mattered, and she had just as much responsibility as Henry did to protect that love. Elizabeth knew she'd secured one of the few highly coveted positions in The Company, and knowing she'd been groomed for the role added to the guilt of giving it up. She had several arguments prepared, none of them quite the truth, but convincing enough to her mind, anyway. Surprisingly, she didn't need any form of persuasion. Conrad Dalton had easily agreed to her request, seemingly unconcerned with temporarily losing his protegee. His response was a simple, "we'll have a place for you when you're ready, Bess. Your personal life is important, too. Enjoy your summer."
The last possible barrier removed, Elizabeth forced herself to make the choice she knew she would all along and booked her flight. She knew she loved Henry, knew she wanted to be with him, and couldn't see the rest of her life without him in it. So the faith he lived on had to sustain her, too- maybe not faith in some religion or higher power, but faith in them, in what they'd built, and in what they could be together.
So there she stood, a few possessions filling a small bag at her feet, books weighing down the backpack slung on her shoulder. She'd paid her rent for the summer, stopped the mail delivery. Most of her belongings remained in their apartment- her apartment now- knowing she'd be back in Charlottesville at least by September. But this was May, and the time loomed ahead, taunting her with the unknown. The tinny announcement from the gate attendant filtered into her consciousness, reminding her of the initial boarding of her flight. She took a fortifying breath, and walked the few steps to the pay phone in the corner. The buttons seemed heavy under her fingertips as she pressed the corresponding numbers, the dial tone jarring in the receiver against her ear. Their last interaction ended with accusations and angry words, and Elizabeth hadn't contacted Henry since to share her plans. As his voice droned through his message, and the long beep ended, she still hesitated, nearly too long. "Hi, babe. Um, it's me." The greeting tripped over her tongue, fraught with nerves. She cleared her throat, then plowed on. "I need you to pick me up at the San Diego Airport tonight. My flight lands at 9:35. American Airlines. I'll meet you at baggage claim." She rushed through the pertinent information before the answering machine cut her off. "Flight 1124, from Washington National." She laid her fingers against the metal tab to end the call, then paused. "I hope you still want me to come. I love you." Her voice thickened, heavy with emotion.
And with the final boarding call sounding through the terminal, she hung up the phone, shoved aside her anxiety, and took that leap of faith.