“Shit.”
I rub my eyes and yawn myself, preparing for our plane’s descent. It’s almost midnight and we’ve had a long three weeks of training. I had a good time training and bonding with my team, but the emotional state I was in since the night before I flew out for camp dampened my mood. And on top of that, I haven’t really been in touch with Zoey since our blow up about my procedure. It’s not like I’ve had a lot of time with our schedule, but the disconnect after that fight has me fucked up. I have to be honest, I’m scared as a motherfucker. I was actually happy to pack my shit and head home. I still don’t understand why Alton and I caught a separate flight from everyone else. We even left later, which further pissed me the hell off.
“We should hit up Pat’s for a cheesesteak. I’m hungry as a mu’fucka. Don’t tell Ty I’m cheating on this diet either. She’d have my ass.”
My head jerks back. “You staying in Philly tonight?”
This is news to me. I usually know in advance when he’ll be staying over. Here are the season shenanigans.
“Hell fucking yeah! I ain’t taking my ass up the turnpike this late.” He checks his wrist. “It’s almost midnight!”
I sigh. I really wanted to be alone tonight—or better yet, between the legs of a certain Wharton alum. That shit ain’t happening. I don’t think Zoey’s not speaking to me, but I also don’t think she exactly wants what my sacs need. Not only do I need her physically, I need to emotionally refuel. It’s been three weeks.
The plane lands safely and I whisper a word of gratitude to the Man upstairs before grabbing my things. As I make my way down the steps, debarking, the bright lights on the tarmac hit me. It’s pitch black above them, but the artificial illumination is piercing. I have my Mac, duffle and pillow in hand. The brisk night air smacks against my skin, reminding me of autumn’s lurking. I’m only wearing a white tee, pajama pants and Timbs, not enough in this chill. Alton is uncharacteristically quiet and I’m thankful as hell. My mind needs to formulate a plan of recovery. I don’t want to kick my season off with this level of stress. I’ve done that enough over the past seven years. I just want to be with my—
Ni?a?
She stands there, just off the tarmac, wearing a white mini dress and heels. Her expression is hard, body restless as she switches from one hip to the other. My heart leaps in my chest and my pulse races uncontrollably. Why is she here? And this late? Is she leaving me?
Shit!
She couldn’t deal with the fertility issue!
As I approach her, I can hear the blood rushing through my head.
“You wanted me to grow,” she utters, nervously.
I stop in my steps.
“You wanted me to grow,” Zoey repeats with more emphasis. “I get that. You wanted me to experience the world I told you I needed to explore before committing to a man.” She snickers. “Boy, was I ideological. And you believed me. Well, you loved me, planted your seed, and released me to grow—literally. Oh, I experienced the world, all right. I’ve traveled, I’ve studied, I’ve matured, I’ve explored, I’ve even accomplished a few things on the way.” She straightens. “But I’ve never loved again. I’ve never experienced the ardor you once wrapped me protectively in. The love and intense passion you exposed me to at such a tender age. Where does a girl go from there?”
This is looking good for me.
“I’ve learned a whole lot, though. I’ve learned about commitment and dedication. I’ve learned that people who love you will hurt you. I’ve learned that love hits hard and unexpectedly, leaving you little time to prepare or recover from it. I’ve learned the moment you meet what you perceive as perfection is the moment you experience a period of obsession, accompanied by brief insanity.”