His Wild Blue Air

Day 20

Saturday

She could feel it hanging in the air, blanketing over them like a dark cloud. He was not in bed with her, but he was definitely in the same room. Skylar could sense the dread and regret coming off him in intense waves without pause. And she just wasn't sure she want to open her eyes to face it.

The awful feeling crept over her without her permission like an icy chill, numbing her brain for a few seconds. In this frozen state, her mind offered her only one thought: Today was the day, the day where everything goes wrong. There was no avoiding it. She could taste it on the tip of her tongue and hear it in her cochlea and smell in her nostrils.

The wall clock ticked, each tick louder than the last, like a timer on a bomb. She couldn't stop it, reverse it or slow it down. Each tick dragged her forward, she was helpless against its relentless tides. She just didn't want to open her eyes and face whatever he was going to say to her.

"Skylar," his voice drifted over, coarse like a fragmented rock in hessian sack. Her eyebrows hitched into a frown, still unwilling to lift her lids. "Please."

She just couldn't. As she exhaled through her nose, her naked chest was trembling against the silk material of her blanket. Her hands clutched at the blanket over her chest like a lifeline, as if it would protect her from all the evils and sadness of the world.

She knew it was coming. She knew it. She just didn't know it would be this fast, although it would probably always be too fast even a week later.

She heard him standing up - his pants rustling harmonized squeakily with the leather flatulence of her armchair. His usually sure and quick strides had become unsure and slow. She felt him approaching until he knelt next to her. She fell so in love with him that she could almost hear his rapid heartbeat and his jumbled thoughts and his eyes scorching a brand into her core.

The inevitable would happen. She couldn't prolong it even if she wanted to. She clicked her jaws together and forced herself to open her eyes, willing them to instantly place him. It was fortunate that she didn't make any sound when she saw the pained look painted across his face.

His hand was lingering in the space between them, his fingers twitching. She lifted one hand - loosening its clutch on the blanket - and held onto his hand, lacing their fingers together. She couldn't even smile as he breathed in gentle relief. All she could do was stare and wait, because god only knew how much she couldn't speak right now.

Time passed between them, she didn't know how long. And then he said, "I need to go back to the States."

So what if she'd known what he was going to say? So what if she'd told herself multiple times that this wasn't forever? So what if she'd prepared herself for this moment since she went to bed with him? They didn't stop her heart from sinking to the pit of her stomach; they didn't stop her esophagus from clogging up for a brief moment; they certainly didn't stop her entire being feeling like it had been struck by lightning.

"My younger sister," he began and then he took a shuddering breath. Only now did she notice that he had been crying, judging by the red in the edges of his eyes and his swollen nose. "She was in a car accident. They say she's in a coma and it's touch and go for now and I need to go back." As a tear rolled down his cheek, she released her blanket completely and reached out to wipe it away gently. He sighed and thinned his lips. "Can you please say something?"

"What time do you have to be at the airport?" she asked. Well, what else could she say? She couldn't stop him from going home to his family. She wouldn't. She refused to be that person.

He huffed a humorless chuckle in the way that indicated that he knew she was going to do this. "Skylar," he whispered, pleading her.

She sighed harshly, closing her eyes, Ethan's calloused and big hand holding hers like an anchor. Who was the anchor in the scenario though? "What do you want me to do, Ethan?" she asked desperately. She looked at him again. "Because I'm not going to be that woman. I'm not going to ask or beg you to stay. I'm not going to stop you from going back to your family. I mean," she smiled sadly and shrugged, "this is not meant to last right from the beginning, Ethan. We both know that."