The first drop of rain splattered onto the windshield.
Then another.
Dammit.
Ryan Gold ran a hand through his hair impatiently. JFK Airport was two exits away. Her plane was scheduled to arrive in half an hour. He felt like a live wire twisting on the ground. Fingers drummed impatiently against a knee that would not stop bouncing. His teeth worried at his lip. But no matter how many times he checked his watch, time stubbornly refused to move faster.
Ryan leaned his head back against the seat in the back of the cab and looked out the window. He sighed at what met his eyes. The sky was the color of an angry bruise.
It would be Deok-mi's first night in New York City. He had imagined it dozens of times. He would welcome her with the bouquet resting on the seat next to him; pink camellias for longing, scarlet roses for love, and lily of the valley for new beginnings. He could picture her wonder at the manmade canyons of Manhattan as they crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. He fantasized about how her eyes would dance in the candlelight of his favorite Italian restaurant in the lower east side. He could almost feel the warmth of her hand as they walked by art galleries and dive music clubs on their way home.
But Ryan Gold's imagination had not accounted for torrential rain. Nor the horrific traffic that it would inevitably bring. Or the maddening delay of Deok-mi's visa application. It had turned his two week trip to lease a new apartment in advance of her arrival into a six week separation that was driving him out of his mind.
He looked down at his watch again.
Twenty five minutes.
The cab barreled off the exit ramp. Ryan felt his heart begin to pound as the endless signs for long term parking and terminals suddenly clamored for his attention.
"Terminal One."
His tone punctuated the silence more sharply than he had intended.
"Please ... thank you."
Ryan leaned forward, smoothing his palms on his thighs. Nerves and anticipation tightened his chest.
Why am I so nervous?
They had talked at least three times a day while straddling different dates on opposite sides of the globe. Texts and photos were a constant as he prepared their life here and she said farewell to their life there. Despite the bureaucratic hassles, Deok-mi sounded so excited to live abroad that it pinched his heart. New York was her choice. He had followed her lead in coming back here. But Ryan felt restless in his old home alone. Being in New York reminded him of what rejection felt like -- of striving to prove he belonged and then hiding in a shell to cope with creative paralysis. In Seoul, that inner tumult had been stilled. He had gained a family. He had grown accustomed to the warm presence of Deok-mi's love. Both had happened without a brush in his hand.
This city, however, was rife with expectations.
Over the last six weeks, Ryan felt like a stranger in a strange land. Even the familiar was now defined by her absence. He walked by a mural he had seen dozens of times and wondered what she would think about it. He asked for steamed milk and had to stop himself from ordering an iced coffee. He shared meals with old friends and craved her laughter instead. He lay awake at night staring at the ceiling. And he awoke with his arm stretched uselessly across a space where she had never slept. Being away from Deok-mi in this haven of doubt had worn away at him.
Crack.
A peel of thunder pierced his thoughts as the car, finally, lurched toward the curb. Ryan handed over the fare as the cabbie eyed the sky.
