Page 25 of Forever After All (Pine Harbour #2)

Alice

G rey sweats tucked into my high-tops, a black tee, no makeup, hair in a messy side braid, and a beanie hat pulled down over my ears completes my travel outfit.

Slamming the trunk of the cab shut, I haul my luggage over the cobbles, and stand at the shuttle stop, waiting to be taken to the departures building.

Looking at my ticket, I do my mental checklist. I confirm I’m flying to London Heathrow, I have the right day and right time, I’m not carrying a weapon, I haven't got a homemade bomb, and I don't have cocaine stuffed up my ass.

I’m sure we all have these discussions with ourselves when flying, but I convince myself every single time I fly, that I am going to go through the body scanner, only to find that I have drugs stuffed in a body cavity.

Luckily for me, that is yet to happen, but the fear is still there regardless .

I planned to message Carter last night. I planned to call him. But I honestly didn't know what to say.

Saying, Hey, I am absolutely crazy so I'm going to England to make sure my abusive ex-boyfriend is actually dead, so I can dance on his grave and learn to fix myself, didn't seem like a wise idea, so I ignored it all together.

As soon as I get my bearings and I'm through the gate, I am going to let him know that I need to reschedule Friday. I don't need to be specific. He just needs to know I'm not coming. Carter has dealt with enough of my drama over the last couple of weeks.

I really fucking care about this guy and I need to stop repeating the same patterns over and over and expecting a different result.

I drag my luggage onto the airport shuttle, and try my hardest to find a seat—to no avail.

It must be a busy time of day to be catching a flight.

As the shuttle flies around the airport perimeter, I clasp the handle and bump my knees several times into the metal bars, trying to steady myself and stop myself falling over.

This motherfucker needs to slow down.

Pulling to an abrupt stop outside of the departures, I jump off the shuttle as soon as the doors open and step into the bustle of the terminal.

I fucking love flying. Not just the flying itself, but the entire lead up to it.

The preflight drinks, the people watching, seeing the planes take off through the windows, and don't get me started on the shopping.

This is why I always get to the airport at least three hours before I need to.

I check my phone and see a message from Anna.

Anna: Hi, Alice, Brenna said you needed to take some time to go to a funeral back in your hometown. I have booked you out for the next week. Please don't worry. If you need anything, let us know.

Anna is an absolute godsend. She is brilliant and I couldn't ask for a better boss.

Me: Thanks, Anna. I’ll be back as soon as I can, I will keep you updated.

Anna: As soon as you're ready, Alice. Not before.

After multiple stops in the brightly lit stores lining the airport terminal and slathering on lotions and potions up the back of my hand and arm, I swiftly run out of space on my skin to put more products.

I decide on a new serum, eye makeup remover, and mascara.

Oh, yeah, and a new bag, hat, and sunglasses too. Whoops.

I stop at a coffee counter and order a large caramel latte with cream, then squeeze myself into a spare seat. I pull out my phone once more, go into my contact list, and hover over Carter's name.

I hit call.

The phone rings, but there’s no answer. The world is determined for me not to tell Carter that we need to reschedule. I have been so reluctant to tell him and I don't know why.

Well, actually, I do know why. It's because Carter would have just booked a flight and come with me. That's just the type of man he is. Whether we want to admit it to ourselves or not, I think Carter and I have been more than just friends since day one.

I decide to shoot him a message instead and look at his beautiful face on his contact photo before typing it out.

Me: Hey, I'm so sorry, something has come up and I need to reschedule Friday.

Carter: I'm sorry, I can't answer the phone right now. Stuck on a Zoom call. Everything ok?

Me: Everything is fine.

Carter: Damn, I was going to make your favourite for dinner.

Me: Oh?

Carter: Lasagna, right? You told me that a few months ago.

Me: Honestly, sad to be missing it. You're right, it is my fave.

Carter: How about Saturday?

Me: I won't be free Saturday either. To be honest, I don't know when I'm going to be free. I need to take care of something, and I might be gone for a while.

Carter: Oh, okay.

Carter: Gone?

Carter: Like, gone, gone?

Me: I'm sorry, it's a bit complicated, but I'm in the airport flying back to England. I am going to Danny's funeral.

The three little dots appear and disappear multiple times, but after a few minutes they stop and no further message comes through.

I slide my phone back into my pocket and finish my coffee. The overhead screens start to release gate numbers for the 4 p.m. flights and I head towards Gate 24.

My phone starts to buzz in my pocket and Carter's name pops up on my screen. My finger hovers over the Accept button, and against my better judgement, I decide not to answer. Why am I so panicked at speaking to him? This is ridiculous.

The phone rings again, which I ignore. Then again, which I ignore for the third time.

Carter: Alice, pick up your phone.

I ignore that too.

Carter: Stop ignoring me, Alice. I know you are.

Me: I'm sorry, I’m about to board my flight.

Me: I'm okay, I'm safe, I'm fine. I just need to do this.

Carter: Pick. Up. Your. Phone.

He calls me again and I reject the call.

Carter: Don't go by yourself, Alice. This is stupid. You shouldn't go.

I send one final message.

Me: Carter, I am fine, I promise. I can't talk. I am boarding the plane. I will speak to you soon, okay? Don't worry about me, I can look after myself.

I bristle a little at his last message. This is not stupid. I need to do this.

I turn my phone off, stuff it back in my pocket, and shuffle with the crowds towards my seat on the plane.

Sinking down into my leather seat, I wish only happiness, the cold side of the pillow, the freshest slice of pizza, and the best oral sex for the person who invented extra legroom premium seating on a plane.

I stretch my legs out in front of me and can barely touch the seat in front—and that is pretty impressive for a five-foot-eleven woman.

The cabin crew perform their preflight checks, and the captain speaks over the tannoy giving an estimated flight time of eight hours and twelve minutes.

A whole thirty minutes earlier than expected due to the current wind speeds.

I pull on my headphones, plug them into the screen, and flick through the movies, landing on a particularly sad romance movie about a man and his wife who loses her memory.

Nope. Not today, Satan.

I look at the shows instead and zone in on my favourite ’00s vampire series. You want to bite me? Go for it! You want to claim me as your mate? Yes, sir.