by Nikki Chase
“Yes, you should’ve,” Gabe says.
“I don’t have an excuse,” I admit. “But you should know I didn’t plan it or anything. I wanted to say hi to you as Jackie, but then you started looking at me like that, and talking to me like that… and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“You know what else you should’ve done?” Gabe asks, still in his eerily serene voice.
How can he be so calm when my world is about to end?
Doesn’t he care that we’ll probably never see each other again?
“No. Please tell me,” I say, giving into despair.
I guess I’ll just sit here and let him tell me what I’ve done wrong and how much he hates me.
“You should’ve picked up my calls last night. At least one of them,” Gabe says.
My jaw drops. “What?”
That’s not the answer I was expecting at all.
“You called me last night?” I light up my phone.
23 missed calls—I tap on the screen—and all of them were from Gabe.
“We could’ve avoided this if you’d answered my call last night,” Gabe says cryptically.
“Avoided ‘this’? What’s ‘this’?”
“This whole kidnapping thing,” he says.
“Because you think I wouldn’t have struggled so much after you’d talked to me?” I ask, taking offense at the suggestion that he can dictate what I do.
I mean, yes, I like to follow his orders in the bedroom. But outside of it? Things are a little different.
“No, because I could’ve picked you up last night instead,” Gabe says.
What?
“How is a mere change in pick-up time going to make things dramatically different?” I ask.
“Well, yes,” he says with a cocky raise of his eyebrow. “You would’ve had time to pack, and you wouldn’t have needed the lift from your brother. That didn’t look very comfortable.”
“What makes you think I’d leave voluntarily?” I challenge him.
“Because I know you. Because you’re mine.”
His words send a cruel chill down my spine. Does he really need to remind me of what we used to have and can never regain?
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “Why do you have to pretend like everything’s okay? Why do you have to call me ‘angel’ and say things like that to me?”
“Do you want a different pet name?” Gabe asks. “We can pick a different one. How about ‘akoma mu tɔfe’? That’s Twi—which is one of the languages they speak in Ghana—for sweetheart. Taken literally, it means ‘candy of the heart.’ I’ve always liked it.”
“What?” Again, Gabe’s answer knocks me off my balance. I was ready to be outraged, but his meandering musings about pet names confuse me.
The car stops. Without me even realizing it, we’ve reached the airport and Gabe has even parked the car.
He turns off the engine and twists to look at me from the gap between the two front seats. He hands me a piece of paper.
“That’s your ticket,” he says. “I still think it’s strange that airplane tickets are just printed pieces of paper now, but you’ve got to get with the times.”
He sounds almost cheerful. Is he so happy to see me go?
Slowly, I take the paper he’s offering.
Jacqueline Summers.
Destination: Kotoka International Airport, Accra, Ghana.
I frown and meet Gabe’s gaze. He’s studying me, watching me for a reaction.
“I thought I was going to Chicago.” My voice comes out small and uncertain.
Is Dr. Kent screwing me over? Did he lie about the internship position in Chicago?
What the hell is going on?
Gabriel
“Why Ghana?” Jacqueline asks as she hurries out of the car.
“Well, they speak English there, for starters,” I answer without slowing my pace. “It's warm. It has nice beaches—people are often surprised by that. They think the whole continent of Africa is a parched desert. It even has castles.”
I drag my suitcase through the automatic doors and into the cool, air-conditioned airport.
She scampers to catch up to me. I know that's not the answer she's looking for, but I can't just tell her everything right away. How much fun would that be?
Besides, after keeping the truth from me for almost a month, she can endure a little suspense. I’ll admit knowing she's hanging on to my every word gives me a rush.
“Come on, Jacqueline, we’re almost late.”
I know who she used to be now, but I can't bring myself to call her by her old name. It feels strange, like it doesn't suit her anymore.
Whoever she is, all that matters is I can't live without her anymore. I’ve fallen for this woman standing in front of me right now.
I don’t care what her name is, or what has happened in her past. I’d already decided that when she told me she had a secret. She could’ve been a serial killer and I still would’ve loved her just the same.
Jacqueline stops trying to match my pace and she takes my hand instead, pulling me to a stop. “What do you mean we’re almost late? What’s in that suitcase? Why am I not going to Chicago?”
She's wearing the same jeans and T-shirt that she throws on every morning before going to work.
I remember making her take them off every night as soon as she stepped through the door. In fact, as I catch a glimpse of the outline of her bra underneath her white shirt, I’m tempted to find some place in this airport where we can fuck.
But I’m only now noticing how exhausted she looks.
Seeing as her mom told me she was still asleep when I pulled up in front of her house, I’m guessing she didn't even get a chance to change last night.
Maybe this is not a good time to be playing a game.
“This suitcase—” I pull it closer and make it stand on the floor on its own “—contains my stuff. I said we were late because you and I—we—need to get through the security checkpoints and they usually have long lines.”
Jacqueline stares at me in confusion. “You’re coming with me to Chicago? Just to make sure I leave the city?”
“No, angel, we’re going to Ghana.” I give her a gentle smile and stroke her hair. I want her to know everything’s okay now. I’ve taken care of everything for the both of us.
“I’m not going to Chicago? What about the job?” she asks, forcing her red, puffy eyes to remain alert despite her exhaustion and distress.
Yeah, this is definitely not the right time to play a guessing game. I should’ve realized that sooner.
But then again, it also took me way too long to know my best friend’s little sister had feelings for me, so maybe I’m just an insensitive, oblivious idiot.
“I have that ticket, too, angel,” I say. “You can go to Chicago if you want. I just thought that maybe you’d rather come with me.” I pull out another piece of paper with my flight itinerary on it and hold it up for her to read. “Because I’m going on that same flight to Ghana.”
“Did Dr. Kent change his mind about my placement in Chicago? Did the hospital not want me?” Despite my attempts to help her understand what’s going on, she seems to be growing more upset. Her eyes fill with water.
Fuck.
Did I make the wrong decision?
We’ve never discussed moving to Africa together, after all.
I thought I knew her enough to tell that she’d gladly come with me, but maybe I was just being presumptuous.
“Hey, angel,” I say in a soothing voice, “please don’t cry. Everything’s okay. The hospital in Chicago wants you—they’d be stupid not to. You’re doing really good work. My dad has already arranged that.” I level my gaze at her eyes and wipe away the lone tear falling down her smooth, creamy cheek. “But I want you to come with me to Ghana instead. I thought you’d be happy to hear that.”
Instead of calming down, she cries even harder. The little droplets gliding down her face turn into continuous streams of salt
y tears. Her delicate shoulders shake as sobs rack through her body.
“I’m so sorry.” I know I’ve done something wrong here, but I have no idea what it is.
People are turning to stare at us as they walk past, and they’re giving me dirty looks.
Fuck them. They don’t know what’s going on.
I’d do anything to fix things for Jacqueline. I’d give anything if it means she’ll stop crying. It hurts like a motherfucker to see her like this.
It took me everything I had to stay on track yesterday when she started to cry in my dad’s office. And when she called out my name, I almost crumbled.
I had to endure the pain because I didn’t want to ruin the plan. But none of that matters if Jacqueline doesn’t want to come with me.
“Angel, please don’t cry,” I repeat. “You don’t have to come with me to Ghana if you don’t want to. I’d love to live with you there and start a new life together. But it’s your decision. You can go to Chicago if you want to. That would be a good move for your career.”
Her gaze flicks up to meet mine. Displeasure flashes in her flooded eyes. She asks, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“You seemed like you were doing okay this morning in the car, and I wanted this to be a happy surprise.” I raise my hand to caress her wet cheeks and, despite her apparent anger, she lets me do it.
“I don’t need a surprise. I need an explanation,” she demands.
“I’m so sorry, angel. I thought it would lighten up the mood. I hate seeing you cry.”
“So you think hiding my destination was going to cheer me up?” Jacqueline narrows her eyes at me.
“Uh… yes?”
“You’re an idiot,” she says with an exasperated sigh.
“I am. I’m sorry,” I say. “Do you want your ticket to Chicago?”
Knowing that she might not get on the plane with me feels like a punch to the gut, but if that’s going to make her happy…
“God,” she says as she lets out another sigh, “you really are an idiot, aren’t you? I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, and I’ve practically known you my whole life.”
It’s my turn now to stare at her in confusion.
“Really? You still don’t get it?” she frowns. “Of course I’m going with you!”
As relief washes over me, I pull her into my arms and hold her tight.
“Did you really think I was going to say ‘no’? I’ve wanted to be with you my whole life,” she says, her voice muffled from having her face pressed against my chest.
“Maybe you changed your mind because I’m an idiot.” My lips pull up into a wide smile, and then into a grin.
I feel light, like I can forgo the flight and just float all the way to Africa on the sheer power of euphoria.
“Well, you are,” she says,” but you’re my idiot.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve been called a ‘brilliant doctor.’ I did win an award, you know,” I remind her.
She laughs softly and wraps her arms around me. As travelers mill past hurriedly, we stand still in the middle of the airport, intertwined in our own private bubble.
To everyone else, we’re just another couple. And that’s how I want it to be. I want people to mind their own business and leave us alone. Too bad we can’t have that if we stay here.
“I still have some questions,” Jacqueline says.
“I know you do, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I promise I won’t hide anything from you ever again.” I stroke her hair.
“Me, too. I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“If you didn’t lie in the beginning, I might’ve kept my distance from you.” I shudder to think about the incredible love that I would’ve missed out on, had she been honest from the start.
“I know,” she says softly.
“Do you want to find somewhere to sit down and talk? I’m sure there’s a ton of cafés here.”
“You said we were getting late.”
“We can always take the next flight,” I say.
“Isn’t that going to be expensive?” Jacqueline tilts her head to look up into my eyes. No longer swimming in tears, her big, blue eyes are startling in their clarity.
“Yeah,” I admit. “But if you need some time to think about whether you want to come with me…”
She shakes her head. “No. I’ll go anywhere to be with you.”
Her loving words fill my chest to the brim. That’s the kind of declaration that will pop into my mind and randomly make me smile from time to time.
“I know you will, but you got me a little worried just now.” I kiss the top of her head and inhale her sweet scent. I’ve missed this.
“That was your own fault.”
I chuckle. “Yes, it was.” I let go of her body and take her hand in mine. I smile as I gaze into her eyes. “Let’s go. I can’t wait for our new life to start.”
Jacqueline’s eyes begin to well up again, but her smile tells me these are happy tears. Before the water spills onto her cheeks, Jacqueline dabs at her eyes.
“Let’s go,” she says.
I pull my luggage across the tiled floor of the airport and sling my arm around her shoulders.
As the rising sun peeks out over the buildings outside and pours its light into the airport, I realize I have everything I need in the world. It doesn’t matter where I go now and what I do, as long as I have Jackie with me.
Hell, if she’d wanted to go to Chicago, I would’ve followed her there, even if my dad would do his best to make sure I didn’t land a job there.
“Hey, what about the car?” Jacqueline asks as we join the line of sleepy travelers by the check-in desks.
I shrug. “It’s one of my dad’s. They’re probably going to tow it away at some point and send him a notice.”
A worried frown descends on her beautiful face. “Are you sure that’s okay? That’s not just going to make him angrier?”
“Let me worry about him.” I pull her closer and squeeze her arm. “You just work on putting a smile on that pretty face.”
Jacqueline’s lips curl up. I may have failed to lighten the mood earlier, but it turns out I’m not completely hopeless at it.
I give her a grin. “We’re Ghana have a good time.”
Jacqueline groans, but then she gives in with a sigh and laughs at my stupid pun.
Jacqueline
“Tell me everything,” I say as I wrap my hands around the warm paper cup filled with liquid wakefulness. After a few sips of latte, I’m alert and ready for this. “What happened between the meeting at Dr. Kent’s office and this morning, when you picked me up?”
We’re sitting in a small café in the passengers-only Departures area. Travelers and their wheeled luggage bags litter the spaces between tables. It’s so cramped here that my knees and Gabe’s touch under our tiny table—which I don’t mind.
My man—I think I can officially call him that now—is looking fine this morning. He’s even kind of pulling off that herringbone flat cap he put on in case he needed to cover his face when he picked me up this morning.
He’s lucky my mom was the one who came out to talk to him while Ray was dragging me out of bed. If Ray had seen him, he would’ve been recognized, cap or no cap.
I mean, just look at those intelligent green eyes and those prominent cheekbones. How does anyone miss a face like Gabe’s?
A few women have turned their heads as they whiz by with their big bags, but Gabe’s eyes are on me. He probably doesn’t even realize the kind of attention women give him all the time—that’s why he had no idea I had a crush on him when we were younger.
Those green eyes cloud over with pain. For the fifteenth time this morning, he says, “I’m sorry, angel. It still kills me when I think about how I just let you cry in that office.”
“I’ll have to admit, it really stung when that happened,” I say. “But that’s behind us now, and I’m sure you had a good reason, otherwise you wouldn’t be here in front of m
e right now.”
“Thank you for being so understanding.” Gabe smiles at me and strokes the back of my hand with his thumb.
“That’s kind of premature,” I say with a teasing smile. “I’m not saying I’m definitely going to be okay with whatever you’re about to tell me. If I don’t like what I hear, I could still get on that flight to Chicago.”
“I’m going to drag you to the plane, kicking and screaming, if I have to. You already said you were coming with me and there’s no turning back now.” Gabe’s smile tells me he’s joking, but there’s solemnity in the statement, too. He’s not going to let me go just like that, the way I thought he did in Dr. Kent’s office.
“Fine,” I say in mock anger, “just tell me what you thought you were doing.”
“To be honest, I had no idea what to do yet, when I saw you walk into the office. That was a surprise to me, too. I didn’t know he’d called you to the hospital,” Gabe says. “My mind was… a mess. You were waiting for me at home, and you were finally ready to tell me your secret. You even seemed distressed about having to hold on to it, even for just a few hours longer.”
My mind flashes back to that day. God, that was just yesterday, wasn’t it? It feels like it’s been forever.
“I knew…” I pause to reconsider my words. “I had a feeling that someone might tell you about me, and I wanted you to find out from me. I was afraid you were going to feel so betrayed you would’ve left me right away. Like you said, had you known who I was when we first met, you would’ve kept your distance.”
“And that would’ve been the biggest mistake of my life,” Gabe says.
I smile—how can I help it, when he’s acting so sweet?
“I was shocked when my dad told me who you were.” He studies my features. “I just… You were… When I left, you were just a teenager. And now, you’re… you.”
I find it unbearably endearing that he can’t find the words to describe me. “Thank you. I grew this—” I gesture at my face and my seated body “—myself.”
“Well done.” He grins. “So when you walked in, I was still in this state of shock, and I didn’t actually have any plan at that point. My dad literally told me, and then a few minutes later you came in. I’d had no time to react.