Across the Ocean With You - Kyra Cooney-Cross

Chapter Eleven - Home Again

Leaving Spain was bittersweet. The last few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, and somehow, I had managed to convince Kyra that I was okay. I kept up the act during the day, smiling and laughing, joining in on the fun with the team and their partners. 

We spent our days at the pool, sharing meals, and enjoying the beautiful surroundings just as we did the whole time I'd been here. I poured my energy into playing with Harper, finding solace in her imagination and the small and simple conversations. I wanted Kyra to believe that everything was fine, that I was as happy as I seemed.

But as soon as night fell, and I knew Kyra was fast asleep, the mask I'd work so hard to keep on would crumble. My nights were filled with silent tears, terrible inner thoughts, and staring at Kyra as she slept peacefully beside me wondering just how long I'd get to sleep next to the love of my life. I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in my chest. I would lie there in the darkness, feeling utterly alone and helpless, my mind racing with worries and fears.

I watched Kyra, her face sweet and relaxed in her sleep, and felt a pang of guilt. She had so much on her plate with the upcoming games, and here I was, struggling to keep it together. I couldn't burden her with my worries, not now.

As our time in Spain came to an end, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread. The reality of leaving this temporary sanctuary and returning to London was terrifying. I knew I had to face whatever awaited me there, but the thought of it filled me with anxiety. I steeled myself for the journey, determined to keep up the brave face for Kyra, at least until we were safely back home.

Stepping off the plane and into London, I felt the weight of the past few weeks settle heavily on my shoulders. I had spent the entire three-hour flight buried in Kyra's hoodie, inhaling her scent and trying to hold on to the comfort it brought me. But as the familiar sights and sounds of airport surrounded me, the reality of being back without her hit me like a tidal wave.

When I saw Dean's car parked outside the terminal, my body instantly relaxed. Dean had always been my rock, and seeing him there, waiting for me, was like a lifeline. 

He rushed out of the car to meet me, his face filled with concern and warmth. As he reached for my bags, I couldn't hold back any longer. I dropped everything and slung my arms around him, finally releasing the dam of emotions I had been holding back for so long.

Loud sobs wracked my body as I clung to him, my tears soaking his shoulder. Dean held me tightly, his hand gently rubbing my back in a comforting rhythm. 

"It's okay," he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring.

I don't know how long we stood there like that, but it felt like an eternity. My cries echoed through the bustling airport, but I didn't care. All the pent-up sadness, frustration, and anxiety poured out of me, and Dean just held on, letting me get it all out. Strangers glanced our way, some with sympathetic looks, but it didn't matter. At that moment, all that mattered was the release of emotions I had been bottling up.

When I finally pulled back, my eyes were red and puffy, and my throat felt raw. Dean gave me a small, understanding smile. 

"You good?" he said softly, taking my bags and leading me to the car. 

I nodded as I settled into the passenger seat, for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again, knowing that I was no longer alone in my pain.

Dean was gentle as he helped me out of the car and carried my bags to the door. His quiet support meant the world to me, especially after the emotional outburst I'd thrown at him just seconds after reuniting. 

Once inside the flat, the familiar surroundings felt strangely foreign. Everything seemed to remind me of Kyra, and the emptiness gnawed at me.

Dean set my bags down in the hallway and turned to me, his eyes full of concern.