Page 102 of Parentmoon

“Ma’am, you’re not on this flight.”

“I know, but—”

“I’m sorry, I can’t give out passenger information.”

“I understand, but I’m . . . He’s . . . I’m the mother of the groom and his daughter married my son.”

She gives me an appeasing smile, like I’m a crazy person standing before her, which I am.

“Does that make him father of the bride?” She tilts her head, giving me a bigger grin, filled with sarcasm.

“It does.” My voice rises, but I’ve fallen hook, line, and sinker into her mockery. “So, Dallas Cole?”

“I can’t tell you.” She nods at someone over my shoulder. “Next.”

I turn to see a man waiting for assistance and offer him an apologetic grimace. Returning to my phone, which needed a few minutes before rebooting, the charge is still minimal. I try Dallas again. No answer.

Standing with my hands against the window, I stare out at the heat wavering over the pavement. Miami is warm in March and it’s one reason so many people from the Midwest migrate south in the spring. Desperate for sunshine. Desperate for heated days and sandy beaches.

I bet Texas is warm, too.

I bet Texas is sunny.

Dallas will be in Texas.

I sigh. Maybe I am too late. Maybe we weren’t meant to be.

We were just a fling.

Was that all we were? he’d asked me. Why didn’t he tell me earlier how he felt? Why didn’t he say something sooner? For that fact, why didn’t I? Why was I afraid to put my feelings on the line?

I’d been hurt in the past, which said it all. The past. By some other man, but not this man.

Not by Dallas.

From the corner of my eye, I watch the line of passenger’s checking in. Slowly, I accept the possibility that he’s already on-board. Maybe his phone is already in airplane mode, safely stored and tucked away for the departure.

I’m too late.

Katherine comes to mind. Dallas told me she should have known immediately how she felt. When he asked her to marry him, love should have been the answer. She hadn’t loved him. She hadn’t thought he was good enough because she’d been focused on the wrong things.

My instant response to Dallas should have been an echo of what he said.

I love him, too.

Dammit, I just didn’t think that fast on my feet. His words caught me by surprise.

The final boarding group is called for Dallas’s flight with no sign of him. I bang my head lightly against the glass before me. Fuck. Tears well in my eyes, emotion finally catching up to me. I close them, answering my own question from minutes ago.

I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.

Final boarding comes, and I open my lids, allowing a tear to slip down my cheek. The area is clear of passengers, minus me. The attendant gives me a warning glance before clicking her computer and stepping toward the door. She closes it and sets the lock from a keypad, making certain no lost-their-damn-mind passenger tries to reverse up the bridge and leave her flight.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes once more and tap my forehead on the glass.

“Darlin’?”

Spinning fast, I bump my shoulder into the window. I blink. I blink again, trying to clear my eyes of the mirage before me.