All This Time

43 ⦿ in which i'm happy (part 1)

"Xander," I say, dread in my voice as I recognize a familiar head of blond hair heading my way. "You are picking me up, right?"

There's a silence on the other end of the phone that doesn't take me long to decipher. "Xander!" I hiss, feeling my own hot breath bounce on my face. I turn away, hair obscuring my face. "I cannot believe you didn't bother to pick up your best friend from the airport."

There's muffled whispers in the background which I can only assume is Graeme conferring with her husband-to-be. "I sent the next best thing," Xander says at last, not an ounce of remorse in his words.

I want to be mad at him, but when I see Wolfram van der Waals smile for the first time in five months, all I manage is "Bye, Xand." The phone is limp in my hands as I cross the sea of people in JFK Airport to meet Wolf in the holding for arrivals. Bodies pass by, steps quick and determined, hurrying to catch the bus to the parking lot or to wait in the long taxi line.

"Charlotte," he calls out when I'm within six feet of him, and he moves forward like an eel, weaving between people with deft precision. "Oh god, it's so good to see you." His face buries in my neck, arms wrapped tight around my back. "Your hair...it's different."

"I cut it." It now falls just an inch shorter than my chin, the ends blunt and sharp.

He grins at me, quipping, "I can see that." A moment passes before he adds, "I like it. It suits you."

"And you." My brow furrows. "You look so casual." It's a good look on him. Tight dark-wash jeans and a black shirt.

His laugh sounds self-conscious. "Yeah. I've, uh, made a lot of changes."

His replacement wife is probably one of them, I know. I smile. "Sorry that Xander made you pick me up," I say, stooping to pick up my bags. "I didn't know he was going to do that." I feel like it's important to point this out, even though I doubt he thinks I arranged this meeting on purpose.

"Here, I'll grab that." With an effortless pull, he slings my duffel across his back.

"Thanks."

We begin to walk. I'm hyperaware of the fact he hasn't acknowledged what I said but before I can analyze it further—a habit I've been unable to break—he interrupts my thoughts by taking hold of my elbow. "Turn here," he instructs, pointing to a sign that indicates the parking lot.

I glance down at his hand. No ring. Startled, my gaze jerks up to his face, but he gives no sign of having noticed.

"Levi drove here this morning," says Wolf, even though I haven't asked. "I don't know why he road tripped. It would have been easier to just fly up and take a taxi to the cathedral."

I could have taken a taxi, too. I wonder why it didn't occur to Wolf to suggest that to Xander. He hums under his breath in a way that he never did before, the sound relaxed and soothing. He tosses his keys in his hand as he walks. Glancing at me, he says, "I brought you a bottle of water and a donut from that place you like. In case you were, you know, hungry."

Wow. Thoughtful. "Thanks," I say again. "You how bad plane food is." I never told him about my favorite donut - it was something I only did with Xander when he was rebelling against Graeme's crazy couple's diet or Levi when we both had a craving.

We settle into the car, my bags tossed in the trunk, and I unscrew the cap of water to take a greedy gulp. It feels cool cascading down my throat, still chilled from the fridge. The donut is indeed from my favorite gourmet donut shop, which brings a smile to my face. I recognize it at once: a carrot-cake donut with a ginger-orange marmalade glaze and crumbled pistachios liberally sprinkled as a topping.