Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
No, maybe.
I’m the one that needs the white horse.
I’m the one who needs a rescue. I’m…
I slowly start to back away from them both in my head, body trembling, lips not even moving anymore, even though I have so many words to say. I take one step, then another, then I turn and I run.
So much for a one-night stand.
So much for two.
So much for relaxation.
Now all I can do at the airport is pull a Kevin from Home Alone—and run.
I don’t even know where I’m going, all I know is that it hurts, I feel stupid, ashamed, I feel completely blind sighted, and yet I still feel in love, the only question?
Which girl is it?
Fuck if I know.
Hi, my name is Quinn and I’m currently sitting on a plane back home writing out my thoughts and feelings about a situation I had zero control over. I’m writing so my heart stops breaking.
I’m writing in hopes one day that will be true.
And I’m writing because PS… I love you.
Shit, it’s like I have this whole indie film in my head, the way it should have been. But the way it’s ending, is with me sitting at a gate and staring up at the sad flight attendants who also just want to go home.
“Maybe,” I whisper. “In another life.”
Tears fill my eyes, I’m tempted to share the note with Chloe, but instead, I just keep writing.
This is definitely not a John Hughes film sort of ending, everyone’s sad and broken, and nobody is rushing toward the plane to tell me to get off, and I’m not rushing back to give in when it’s still raw, but I do want to, Chloe. I’ve been burned so much in the past, so damn much, you don’t even know how much and I’m petrified if I give you the rest of me.
I’ll be broken forever.
And now I’m a loser that’s ready to burst into tears on a stupid plane, maybe it would be cleansing, to cry over you, to feel something other than this numbness. My emotions are barely held up by a dam right now, one crack and I’m done.
Maybe it is too late for me, maybe this is my curse, to fall for people who keep secrets and lies—maybe that’s my punishment for coveting my best friend’s girl or for lying to him years ago. I don’t know what happened to carefree Quinn, but I really want him back.
Why did the universe save me from certain death only to put me in a situation where it feels the same?
Dark. Isolated.
You were like sunlight Chloe. Your smile is so pretty it’s hard to look away, maybe that’s why it hurts so much.
You see, a long time ago I hurt my best friend, I know what it’s like to feel like you have no choice, maybe I’ll write a book about my past, maybe you’ll be in it as the love of my life.
Maybe the bungee actually does snap and I miss your lap.
Maybe it ends there.
If the world would just stop spinning around me… It’s going to take me a while, Chloe.
PS… I still love you.
I hit send without thinking as they close the cabin doors and I close my eyes, leaning back against the comfy seat.
Twenty minutes pass by and I can’t figure out why the plane isn’t actually moving, we’re clearly delayed. I’m annoyed when the pilot comes out on the speaker. “Sorry folks, we just need an all clear from the mechanic and then we’ll be on our way.”
Groans are heard all over.
Great, I don’t die by bungee, but I’ll have a broken heart and then fall from a higher place in the sky—sounds about right.
I hate flying too.
Shit.
I immediately grab my headphones so I can focus on something happier and put on some music from my phone.
And why is it that the first song that comes on is Heartbroken by Diplo, perfect, great. I listen to it anyway, maybe I really do need to deep dive into sadness so I can feel better, though writing that note actually did feel like a deep exhale, even though she hasn’t read it yet.
Which is weird because she’s been all over the texting and calling recently, then again she could be resting. Guilt attacks, she’s sick, the least I could do was listen to her for five minutes.
But no, no, I refuse to justify anything.
I’m where I need to be.
I frown down at my phone like an idiot, then remember I put my phone in airplane mode after sending that last text. I quickly take it off and wait for my phone to buzz and buzz it does.
With seventeen missed calls from Zane.
Thirty text messages, the hell?
Zane
Bro, you need to get here now.
Zane
I’ll send a car.
Zane
Quinn, turn your damn phone on, the plane won’t crash if you turn it on for one second and if you’re in the air, you can use the texting.