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I rise from my chair, and he does the same, wrapping me in a big hug. “All right, pumpkin. Love you.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
“Bye, Chubs,” Liam calls from the sofa.
“See you later, knucklehead,” I quip back, a bright smile forming. Nothing could kill my mood right now, not even Liam’s callous reminder that I could stand to lose a couple extra pounds. Because Karl is coming back tomorrow, and when he’s standing in front of me, everything will be right again.
Today is the day. These last few weeks have been unbearable, but the wait is almost over. Karl will be in London today, and our new life will begin. His trip to Hanoi last year came at the worst possible time. After I’d been crushing on him for years, we finally slept together. Then, his work took him away for just short of a year. We’ve been video chatting and emailing constantly, but I can’t wait to pick up our relationship where we left off.
True to my classic—but trendy—style, I choose a black knee-length dress, which hides my extra curves, and a matching blazer. As always, my feet get all the fun: neon-green stilettos. I take extra care when doing my makeup, but I still take my bag with me for touch-ups later. I won’t pick up Karl until two.
Finally feeling fresh and ready, I close the door to my flat, realising it’s one of the last times.
I’ve always loved my flat. It’s situated in an enviable location in Shepherd’s Bush, Central London, and boasts direct sidewalk access. It’s almost like a townhouse, but a tad smaller. Our new place will be further from work, but it’s closer to Karl’s firm. Plus, it has a lot more closet space. He’s only seen it on video, so I’m ecstatic to show him around in person today. I hope he likes it as much as I do.
One stiletto touches the ground, and the rain starts to pour. I carefully tug my mass of dark-blonde hair under the hood of my coat, but I know I’ll look like a poodle when I get to the office. Great. Living in London is an endless battle with the weather. Spoiler alert—the weather always wins.
One tube ride and a ten-minute walk later, I step into the Reed Media building. Five hundred feet of brick in the heart of Mayfair houses one of the biggest media corporations in the world. I saunter through the lobby, scan my key card to enter the elevator, and step out on the forty-third floor. Fashion Warehouse magazine. My second home for five years now. I started as a fledgling freelancer and have since worked my way up to senior writer. Striding across the writers’ open space, I sit down at my desk. Only six hours to go.
“Hey,” I say, answering the phone as it chimes. On the other end is Lina, my best friend. I don’t usually mix my private and professional lives, but for Lina, I made an exception. She’s the assistant to Zelda Cunningham, our editor-in-chief.
“Hey, Rox. Break time?”
“Meet you there,” I reply before hanging up.
A few minutes later, we’re huddled in the small break room. A hot mug of tea for me, coffee for her. Lina is American and doesn’t quite understand the art of tea—yet.
“So, it’s the big day!” she squeals, sitting on the bar stool and flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.
“I know. I can’t believe it’s actually happening. After all this time. I keep thinking something’s bound to go wrong.”
She adjusts her transparent wayfarer glasses. “Nothing will go wrong. You’ve been planning your reunion for months. It’ll be perfect.”
“I hope so. I still have most of my stuff to move out. You know, since he hasn’t officially asked me to move in yet.”
She waves her hand in dismissal. “That’s just a formality. It’s pretty obvious from all the hints he’s dropped.”
“Yeah. I’m kind of nervous, though. Ever since he left, we haven’t spoken about that night.”
“You mean the drunk love making?”
“Yes,” I moan, hiding my face in my hands. “So, I have no clue how to act when I see him.”
“The guy asked you to find him ‘an apartment you’d like, with lots of closet space.’ That’s a pretty clear message, Roxanne. When you see him, jump at his neck and make out with him right there at the arrival gate,” she suggests, her brown eyes sparkling.
Peering through my fingers, I nod, a delighted grin stretching across my face.
At one-forty, I’m perched at the edge of my seat in the arrival hall at Heathrow, tracking Karl’s flight information on my phone. His plane is due to land in fifteen minutes. I can’t sit still, so I return to the loos for a last-minute touch-up of my hair and face. My curly hair is impossible to tame in this weather, but it doesn’t look too bad considering. I hustle back to my seat and proceed to death-scroll on Instagram, but it’s making me heady. So, I switch to one of my favourite pastimes—people watching and storytelling.
There’s that girl. She must be in her late twenties. Brown eyes, cinnamon hair. She’s been biting her nails ever since she sat down. Maybe she’s waiting for her long-lost brother. They were separated at birth, and now they’ve found each other again, thanks to the power of the internet.
Or this old man, who sits with his back erect as he holds a British flag, an eager expression on his face. Maybe he’s picking up his son who’s returning from war. And then, there’s this family. The mother is cleaning off her son’s nose with the hem of her shirt. The little girl is holding up a sign I can’t quite read. Perhaps they’re also waiting for their hero to return.
And sitting right across from me, there’s this guy. His baseball cap is screwed so low on his head, I can’t even see his eyes. His cheeks are slightly sunken, and it looks like there’s an undercut hairstyle under that cap. He’s built like an athlete and dressed like a model, one long leg stretched in front of him as he sits there, absorbed by his phone. Maybe someone won’t see his stray leg and will trip over him, the beginning of an epic love story. I want to move on to somebody else, but something keeps me stuck on this guy. I have the odd feeling that I know him. If only he would lift his head just a few inches, I’d know for sure. I never forget a face.
Movement near the door catches my eye. People are now streaming through the arrivals gate. I bounce to my feet and shuffle closer to the entryway. There are a lot of people filing through, and I can’t see Karl yet. What if he didn’t board his flight? What if something happened to him? My heart clenches at the thought. But it’s nothing compared to what my heart does when I finally spot him. He looks exactly like I remember. Golden-blond hair sweeping over his forehead, the body of a Greek god, and a smile that’s to die for. There’s just one new addition—the beautiful girl who’s clutching his arm.
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