by Lewis, L. K.
I usually tune my thoughts out and listen to music as I run, but today I let my thoughts drift to Drake. I think about where he might be. What are all of the brilliant, logical and stupid places in the world where he might be? Why isn’t he with me? I try to remove my emotions from the situation and think logically. What are the logical reasons he left without saying goodbye? As I run I consider everything from a relapse of his past alcohol and drug abuse, to Drake being so embarrassed by being caught that he couldn’t possibly face me, but nothing really makes sense. The only thing that truly makes sense is that his father is responsible for his whereabouts. He told me to forget about Drake and move on, but for someone that cares so little about his son, there has to be a reason why he wants us to be apart so badly. I continue to let my thoughts of Drake flow as I finish my run and try to cool down a bit as I walk back to the Bellagio.
I reach my suite door and cross through the threshold red faced, panting, and covered with sweat. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and start to laugh at the thought that Drake looked exactly the same way when he returned from his run in the desert. He may not be here, but retracing the steps we took not long ago has definitely left me feeling closer to Drake. With the first smile on my face in days, I walk into the shower, and start planning my next move.
****
Me: Vegas was a bust, onto the next place.
Amanda: Sorry Morgie, where to next?
Me: London
Amanda: Really? Why there?
Me: It’s logical. He loves to see new things but has a hard time learning foreign languages. Lots to do, see and learn in London while still speaking English. Plus it gets me to Europe.
Amanda: Makes sense to me. BE CAREFUL!
Me: K. Luv U
Amanda: Luv U 2
I land at Heathrow mid-day and am not surprised to find the weather mostly mild with a bit of a chill. Most people think fog and rain when they think of London, especially in the fall, but this has always been my favorite time of year to come here.
I check in at the Metropolitan Hotel, which is one of my favorite places to stay in London. It’s centrally located and practically kisses Hyde Park, which is my favorite park in the city as well. I’ve chosen to come to London to search for Drake because like I told Amanda Drake is terrible with foreign languages yet most of his traveling has been done in Europe so it’s someplace he would find comforting.
Drake isn’t an obvious traveler. From the stories he’s told me about his wanders around the world, he falls in love with a place he’s never been by assimilating himself into the culture. He talks to locals and goes to their favorite places to eat, drink, relax, and celebrate their cultures and heritage. In London, there are a lot of obvious places Drake could be if he wanted to be a tourist. Knowing how he likes to travel, and the fact that he’s most likely trying to get away from it all, I’m going to spend my time looking for him in places that would speak to him, not provide the perfect photo-op.
After a quick nap to recharge I grab my jacket and head out to spend the afternoon in Hyde Park. I haven’t spent a whole lot of time in London, but when I do, I always go to Hyde Park and do some of the less touristy things. I people watch, rent one of the green and white striped chairs that are all over the place and curl up for a few hours with a good book instead of touring Kensington Palace. Knowing Drake, he’d be doing the same thing so I find myself wandering around the huge park for the whole afternoon searching for a tall, broad figure with brown hair and those gorgeous brown eyes that I miss so much.
Around dinner time I realize that my day is practically gone and I’ve not even covered the entire park. I see a few men around Drake’s age that come very close to being his doppelganger, but as my stomach growls reminding me that I’ve not yet eaten today I resign myself to the fact he’s most likely not here in the park like I hoped he might be. I decide to go over to the East End and grab some curry on Brick Lane. With many curry houses to choose from I simply walk into the first one I see and as I’m seated at my table I breathe in the exotic spices filling the air and think back to the night that Drake and I decided to detour from our normal chick food cuisine and try some sort of Thai peanut veggie drunken noodle bowl concoction that I saw on Pinterest.
Drake came over that evening after his workout to find me dancing around my kitchen and singing at the top of my lungs to Taylor Swift’s “I knew you were trouble” while chopping broccoli and carrots. I didn’t hear him come in so I jumped when he slid his arms around my waist and started nibbling my earlobe.
“So I’m trouble now, huh?” Drake teased into my ear.
I spun around in his embrace and with my most seductive voice I said, “Mister, you’re all kinds of trouble.”
“Well don’t worry, my love, I’d never leave you lying on the cold hard ground.”
“Oh my God, you’re so cheesy, I love you. Hey have you heard the version of this song with the goats singing?....” And just like that our typical night spent together had begun. Thinking back on nights like that one fills me with pain. Drake isn’t just someone I love, he’s the one I love the most in this world. He’s my best friend, my breath, my everything. I realize in this moment that the true reason I’m on this journey to find Drake is not just because I miss him and want him back, I’m also missing a huge part of me. Until we’re together again, my life isn’t complete. Without him I’m not whole.
For Drake and me, our attraction was instantaneous. We share a complete inability to stay away from each other and that is why I think it’s killing me that he’s been gone so long. I completely understand the reasons for his past actions and indiscretions, but part of me wishes he hadn’t burnt so many bridges in his past. If something really did happen between him and his dad and that is the reason he’s gone now, perhaps Drake would have felt like he had more options. I know I would at least have more people I could reach out to for help in tracking him down.
I spend another few days in London, and after searching for him in some more of the “off the beaten path” locales, I also look in the obvious more touristy spots just in case, before moving on to the next place. I check in with my parents from time to time and find that although my mother is still completely unsupportive of this journey, my father subtly hints that he agrees with me that perhaps Drake is the one I need and that I should continue to take my time to find him. I text almost daily with Amanda, letting her know what I’ve been up to and where I’m going next. She gives me the support and encouragement I need, letting me know that I’m doing the right thing and telling me not to lose hope that I’ll find him.
Three weeks later, late October…
Chapter 4
Drake
I think I should change my title at work to fireman because that is all I do all day long…I put out fires. I don’t know what the hell my father has been doing with the European division all this time because it’s a fucking mess. I’m learning a lot, making great decisions and putting new protocols and procedures into place but it’s been hectic and at times I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.
I miss Morgan. It sucks going home to an empty apartment every night. I miss our evenings together as we can’t share our days even though we are in the same building, sometimes even in the same boardroom. I miss holding her at night, feeling her soft skin pressed next to me.
On a whim last night I purchased a plane ticket to Paris for the weekend. The flight wasn’t cheap, but I don’t really care. I just need to get the hell out of here for a few days. Morgan loves Paris. She’s been there a few times and often talks about how she’d love to travel there with me someday so we can experience the city of love together.
****
I’ve just gotten off the plane and am headed through the terminal towards the baggage claim and customs when I see someone walking in front of me with the same strawberry blonde hair as Morgan. At first I tell myself there is no way she is in the same airport in Paris, walking down the same terminal just twenty feet
in front of me. It isn’t impossible, but it doesn’t seem possible. As I pay attention to this person’s gait and the way she nervously twirls all of her hair around her finger before pulling it all over one shoulder I know it’s Morgan. As she moves around a mother who has stopped to tie her son’s shoe I get a quick look at the side of her face and stop dead in my tracks. It’s most definitely her.
In a moment of panic, I step out of the flow of people walking to pick up their bags and lean against the wall. All I want to do is wrap my arms around her, and kiss her, and keep her by my side forever but I know that if she sees me there is no way possible that my dad won’t find out I’ve communicated with her. He’ll never believe that it was a coincidence that we ran into each other in Paris at the airport. He’ll think I’ve been breaking the rules this whole time and the chance at the future with Morgan I’ve been working towards will be over.
My heart is shredding as I stand there watching the distance between us grow once again. All I’ve dreamt of since leaving for Zurich is seeing Morgan again. I can’t believe we are in the most romantic place in the world to reunite with each other and I’m leaning against a wall like an idiot and letting this chance pass me by. I told myself before that being with Morgan under the radar would be fine. No one would ever know. We can just bide our time, do everything right and then magically everything will fall into place and we can have our happy ever after. Obviously that didn’t work out, but now I’ve been given this shitty second chance and although spending this time away from Morgan sucks, and watching her walk away from me now is like a sucker punch to the gut, I know I have to do this the right way this time to get my girl in the end.
Morgan
I’ve spent the last month searching the globe for Drake. I started in Vegas thinking that was the most obvious and brilliant place to start. After Vegas was London, a logical place. From there it was Rome, Barcelona, Cape Town, Brussels, Amsterdam, and every other brilliant, logical and dumb place I could think of hoping to find Drake so I could finally take a full breath. All I’ve thought about is how amazing it will be to once again feel like I do when I’m in his arms. I didn’t think it would take this long to find Drake. I’ve searched everywhere and now I’ve just landed in Paris where I said he would be if I couldn’t find him anywhere else. This is my last shot. I have to find him here. I’m trying not to get my hopes up too high, but ever since I stepped off the plane I swear it’s like my body feels him. That old magnetic pull is back and I find myself once again searching the face of every man I pass by, hoping that it’s Drake.
In every place I’ve been I always think I see Drake. I have even called out his name, only to have a stranger give me an odd look then walk in the opposite direction. He has to be here. This trip, the time and all of the money I’ve spent cannot be for nothing. I cannot go home feeling like nothing.
I’m on my way to baggage claim in the Charles De Gaulle Airport to pick up my luggage before hailing a cab to my hotel when I stop dead in my tracks. It’s Drake. He has his back to me but I’d know that boxer’s build and gorgeous brown hair anywhere.
“Drake!” I call out to him and he doesn’t even flinch. Maybe he didn’t hear me. I walk a little closer and call out his name but the man doesn’t turn. I could have sworn it was him, and if French soldiers weren’t walking around patrolling with AK-47s I might be a little ballsier and walk up to him, but I don’t want to cause a scene. I learned my lesson in Brussels that you can’t run up and throw your arms around someone even if you’re sure it’s the person you love because it might end up being someone else, and that someone else’s wife might not appreciate your affection towards her husband very much.
It’s clearly not Drake though, or he would have turned at the sound of his name. Especially when it’s my voice that’s calling it. Realizing I’m wrong again I go to the baggage carousel, grab my luggage, and with a heavy heart, depart the airport and continue the search I no longer think will end well.
Drake
It took every last cell of energy in my body not to turn around when Morgan called my name. I saw her walking to the baggage claim and turned around hoping she wouldn’t notice me. Of course she did though, we’re drawn together. I could have been perfectly camouflaged into my surrounding and she still would have sensed me in the room. It absolutely kills me that I can’t talk to her but I know that if I give in and break the rules even just this time, my father will find out and even the last month or so without her will be for nothing.
I want to run and grab her, have that moment that movies are made for when I call her name and we run toward each other with smiles, and tears, and don’t stop until we crash into one another all lips and teeth and kisses and hands in hair passion while those witnessing clap and cheer and cry. But instead I play by the rules, only bending them slightly as I play voyeur, watching her every move as she collects her bag, calls for a cab, takes a hopeful yet heavy hearted breath and departs from the airport and my presence once again.
****
My original plan for the weekend was to lie low and walk around Paris taking in the sights. Enjoy the food, the wine, immerse myself in the local culture and try to clear my head. The moment I saw Morgan in the airport I knew that plan was shot to hell. I can’t hang out in my hotel room, and walk around the city when I know Morgan is here too. I busted ass out of the airport to grab a cab after Morgan left and followed her cab to a small boutique hotel in the heart of the city. There is no way I can spend my weekend in Paris now that she’s so close but I still can’t have her. I just want to make sure she got a hotel room and is safely tucked away before I head back to the airport and fly back to Zurich.
I’m sure anyone in my position would have turned around in the airport when she called my name and maybe I’m making the biggest mistake of my life by playing by the rules for once in my life. I know I feel like a foolish asshole right now by watching from a cab as Morgan checks into a hotel, but if this is what I have to do to make it to the finish line, then so be it.
Morgan
“Morgan, where are you, are you alright? It’s late,” Amanda asks as she picks up the phone, her husky sleep voice barely audible.
“I’m sorry, I forgot about the time change. I just woke up. I’m stuck in a Paris hangover.”
“A Paris what? Morgie, I know I’m half asleep, but that doesn’t even come close to making sense,” Amanda mumbles into the phone.
“A Paris hangover. I don’t know, I just made it up. It’s like I’m here, in the city of love. A city with so much history and so many things to see. I should be out enjoying my day, but I’m in bed with a headache, trying not to throw up. It’s like when you party hard on Saturday, and you wake up Sunday and it’s such a beautiful day outside. You know you should be out enjoying the last few moments of your weekend but all you can manage to do is lie bed with a killer headache trying not to puke and all you want is some glorious McDonald’s Angel to show up at your door with a fountain Coke and fries,” I explain.
“I understand. So why don’t you feel well? Did you pick up a bug with all of the recycled air on your flight?” Amanda asks. She’s starting to sound a little more awake which I’m grateful for, but feel bad for waking her up.
“No, I’ve been here for a week now looking for Drake, if it was the recycled plane air I would have come down with something sooner I think.”
“Then what is it, Morgan?”
“He’s not here, Amanda. He’s supposed to be here. I’ve searched everywhere. He’s supposed to be here, and he’s not…WHERE IS HE?” I start to sob into the phone.
“Shh. Don’t cry, Morgan. You’ll find him. He’s out there somewhere, he has to be. You know he loves you,” Amanda says, trying to soothe me.
“He is out there somewhere, just not any place I’ve looked. Maybe he doesn’t want to be found. At least not by me. I’ve gone everywhere looking for him. I really thought I’d find him, Amanda. I thought I’d find my happiness. What do I do now?”
> “Oh, Morgan, I’m so sorry. I wish you could have found Drake. You’re right… maybe he doesn’t want to be found right now. Maybe he’s still working things out for himself. You said his father dissolved his position. That’s a huge blow for someone who has worked so hard to get his life on track. Maybe he’s still working out a way to give you the life you’ve always wanted. You told me he wants to do that for you. Morgan, you said he told you in Vegas he couldn’t wait to marry you. Maybe time alone is exactly what he has needed, that’s why he isn’t there looking for you too. You know I love you more than anything, Morgan, but you might not like what I’m about to say…maybe it’s time to come home, put your big girl panties on, get a job, and face life in the real world again.
“You know I’m here for you always and I’ll help you in any way I can, but Morgan right now you aren’t happy. In fact you’re sitting in a hotel room in Paris, and you’re absolutely miserable. I know you want to find your happiness and you think you can only find that in Drake, and maybe part of that’s true. But why don’t you come home and see what other happiness you can find by getting your life back on track.”
“You’re right. I’ve just never felt like everything is right in my life as I have these past few months with Drake. I guess I thought that I have to have him with me for my life to go on. Maybe some of that’s true, I don’t really know how my heart will go on without him as cheesy as that sounds, but I’m way too young to throw the rest of my life away because I’ve lost the person I love. God, I’m talking like he’s freaking dead and he’s not. He’s not even a missing person, he’s just the person I’m missing. Maybe it is time to come home and move on. I need to pull myself together. I just have to figure out how to do that without Drake. I’ll call you when I’ve booked my flight. Will you pick me up from the airport? I’m not ready to face my parents just yet,” I ask.