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New Uses For Old Boyfriends

Page 29

by Beth Kendrick


  “I bet you did great. You’re very photogenic, and—” She broke off as his hand drifted back to his pocket.

  He rocked back on his heels. “That’s what the public relations team said. They had the first officer go on air with me. Kim, too. Said her Southern accent was good for the company image. They wanted you, too, but . . .”

  Summer let her head settle back against the pillow. “I’m an unreliable witness whacked out on pain pills and prone to passing out.”

  “They didn’t use those exact words.” He finally came close enough to kiss her, pressing his lips against the top of her head. “Does that hurt?”

  “No.” She tilted her face up so he could kiss her on the mouth. “Thank you for the flowers.” She nodded at the bouquet. The rose petals had gone dark and crisp around the edges.

  His hand went all the way into the pocket this time, and he started to extract something before he changed his mind and put it back. “Summer. You know I love you.” He sat down next to her on the bed.

  “I love you, too,” she forced out.

  “How much do you remember about the landing?” he asked.

  She finally drew a breath. “What?”

  “The doctors won’t tell me much since I’m just your boyfriend and not your husband.”

  She stilled. “Uh-huh.”

  “And your family isn’t . . . They’re not returning my calls.” He shifted his weight. “I looked up your dad’s office number on the university Web site. His department secretary said he’s out of town. And your mother . . .”

  He gazed at her, a glimmer of pity in his eyes.

  Summer lifted her chin and stared at the roses.

  He waited for her to respond for another long minute, then gave up. “Anyway, from what I’ve managed to get out of the nurses, you don’t remember much.”

  “Yeah.” She laced her fingers together and squeezed, wondering where he was going with this. “Everything after takeoff’s a little hazy. They told me one of the engines blew out?”

  He nodded. “I had to make an emergency landing. We didn’t have time to circle and dump the fuel, so things got pretty exciting for a minute, but we made it.”

  “Is that why I have burns on my back?”

  “Like I said, things got a little exciting.”

  “But you saved us,” she said. “You’re a hero.”

  “You’re the hero,” he corrected. “Once we got back on the ground, people were trying to get out the emergency doors, and a little boy fell in the aisle. You managed to push back the crowd and pull him up.”

  Summer suddenly wanted an extra dose of morphine. “I let go of the door handle?”

  Aaron nodded. “That’s how you got hurt. You fell onto the tarmac.”

  “Which is why we’re not supposed to let go of the door handle.” Summer shook her head. “That’s like, flight attendant 101.” She closed her eyes and concentrated, sifting through her consciousness for any recollection. “I really . . . I can’t remember any of that.”

  “The whole thing was over in less than five minutes,” Aaron said. “But those five minutes changed everything.” He reached into his pocket.

  She held her breath and waited for him to produce the ring.

  And waited. And waited.

  He continued to look at her with that wistful expression. “I do love you, Summer.”

  “I love you, too.” She smiled. “We’re even.”

  He stood up and turned his back to her. “There’s so many things I want to say to you, and I don’t know where to begin.”

  She couldn’t stand this any longer. “I know about the ring, Aaron.”

  He froze, then turned to face her. “You do?”

  “Kim told me everything.” She waited for him to look up.

  “Okay, then.” His hand moved back to his pocket. “Kim was right. There was a ring.”

  “‘Was’? Past tense?”

  He caught her gaze and held it. “When I said I love you, I meant it. I’ve loved every minute we’ve spent together. You’re fun. You’re spontaneous. You make me laugh.”

  “Okay,” she said faintly. “But . . . ?”

  “I love you. But I don’t love you enough.”

  She went perfectly still.

  He watched her face. “Say something.”

  She took a moment, cleared her throat. “You’re breaking up with me?”

  He lifted his shoulders and blew out a breath. “I’ve been carrying that ring around for months.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Months?”

  “I wanted to ask you to marry me. I really did. But it never seemed to be the right time. And after a while . . .”

  “You were going to propose in Paris,” she insisted. “It would have been perfect.”

  “It would’ve been,” he agreed. “But we didn’t make it to Paris. And maybe that’s a sign.” He turned his face away. “Please don’t take this personally. My whole life has changed in the last few days. I’ve realized that all the clichés are true. Life is short. We can’t do things halfway. And you and I, we had fun, but we’re not marriage material. There’s something missing. I wish I could explain it better, but I can’t.”

  She took her time sipping the lukewarm water.

  “You’ll be fine.” He couldn’t even look at her. “You’re the strongest woman I know.”

  Walk it off.

  At this, Summer finally regained her voice.

  “Go.” Her voice came out flat and low. “Just go.”

  “I’m sorry.” He reached for her, but she flinched away.

  “Don’t apologize,” she said. “I don’t want apologies. I don’t want explanations. I just want you to go.”

  Still, he hesitated.

  Her voice got louder, sharper. “Please.”

  As the door closed behind him, she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes, but she managed to compose herself. Aaron was right about her strength—she had always been resourceful and resilient. When life got hard, she didn’t stop—she put one foot in front of the other, moving faster and farther until she pushed through the pain.

  She would survive this, she knew. She always did.

  And in the end, Aaron wasn’t the one who got away. He was the one who reminded her of everything she’d been trying to get away from.

  The room seemed to close in on her. She couldn’t bear to stay here, confined, inhaling the scent of dying roses with every breath. So she did the only thing she could under the circumstances: She hit the call button, and when the nurse arrived, she announced, “Bring the consent forms or whatever I need to sign. I’m discharging myself, effective immediately.”

  Before the nurse could start arguing, the door swung wide again and a firm, feminine voice rang through the room: “Simmer down, crazycakes. No one’s going anywhere.”

  This time, Summer couldn’t hold back her tears. “Emily?”

  Photo by Anna Peña

  Beth Kendrick is the author of Cure for the Common Breakup, The Week Before the Wedding, The Lucky Dog Matchmaking Service, and Nearlyweds, which was turned into a Hallmark Channel original movie. Although she lives in Arizona, she loves to vacation at the Delaware shore, where she brakes for turtles, eats boardwalk fries, and wishes that the Whinery really existed.

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