Seven Years of Bad Luck (7 page)

He was clearly not doing just fine.
Great! Don’t feel guilty, Kat. You have no reason to feel guilty.

I tried my hand at playing dumb.

“That’s good Aidan. I am glad to see that you’re alright.”

Keys, car, vroom, vroom. Walk away now!

“You are?” His voice sounded almost relieved and unsure, which had me puzzled because the Aidan Cooper I knew was in love with himself and was confident in everything he said or did.

You had better recover quickly, Kat. Squash whatever ideas he has churning in that head of his. This is over
.

“Well, yeah, I guess. Even though we’re over, we should still be civil to each other, and I don’t take pleasure in anyone being upset. So yeah, I guess I’m glad you’re fine.” I shrugged casually for good measure.

There, that ought to do it.

“Oh. Yes, I guess you’re right.” He still hung his head, only making eye contact with me for a second or two at a time. He kept his hands in his pockets and shuffled his weight from one foot to the other.

He was nervous.
That is really bizarre!

I was now looking at him like he was some type of riddle in the form of a human being.

“Kathleen, listen…”

Oh crap, here it comes
.

“Kathleen, I um… I miss you a lot, you know? I haven’t seen you in months, and I… dammit…” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and ran both hands through his hair, clasping his fingers together at the nape of his neck. He then turned away from me and let out a defeated sigh. He turned back to me and continued:

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. God knows, I will never forgive myself. I still love you. I can’t get you out of my head. I’m so lonely without you. I can’t sleep. I can’t function. I messed up, and I know that. But God, I would do anything for another shot!”

And there it was. Great!

He then came closer to me and tugged my hand from my side and drew me into his arms. He exhaled the breath he was obviously holding. I felt him smell my hair as he squeezed me tightly in his arms. I allowed him the embrace. He held me there for a long moment then I gently pulled away from him.

“I’m working on forgiveness, all right? I’m not mad at you anymore, but I have so much to sort out with myself okay. I’ll get there one day.”

“Do you still love me?”

“I think I will always have a place for you in my heart. We spent seven years as husband and wife and made a child together. Even though that child is not here with us, it was still something special between us. I will always have that with you. But if you’re asking if I’m in love with you, the answer is no. Too much has happened. We had something great, and whatever it was, it’s been gone for years.” I suddenly felt like the biggest jerk on the planet, even though none of this was my fault. It was really difficult to keep looking at his face. He had tears swimming in his eyes, and it hurt a bit to see my ex-husband reduced to tears.

“Okay, I understand. But before you walk away, let me just tell you that I hope you will understand that I still love you, I still want you, and I don’t see myself just giving it all up. You’re my wife. I want you back. I want
us
back.”

“You don’t have a choice in the matter. It’s done and that’s okay. You will be okay. I’ll be okay. But, we won’t be okay together. I’m sorry.” I lay my hand on his bicep, gave it a reassuring squeeze, and turned to get into my car.

“Goodbye, Aidan.” I was getting teary-eyed just then and was glad to be facing away from him.

His voice came back in a choked whisper. “I meant what I said. I won’t give up on winning you back. I love you.”

I didn’t risk looking at him. I just got into the rental car and drove away with him in my rearview mirror, for once, looking like a broken man. I went back to my hotel room and spent the rest of the day and night crying for Aidan, for our failed marriage, and for the tragic debacle that had been the past seven years of my life.

After picking up the sketches from Fred and saying my goodbyes, I made my way back to the hotel and decided to get back to Dallas sooner rather than later. My flight was scheduled for the next day, but I was eager to start my search for the artist I would need to do my tattoo. I packed up my belongings, and I was off to the airport again to hop on the next flight out.

I managed to get to the airport and check in just in time for the next flight out which was scheduled for 11:45 A.M. After I boarded the plane, I took one last look out of my window from my seat and felt at peace. I felt like I had some bit of closure. I would not be returning to this city or to Aidan. It was final. I buckled myself into my seat, and I was off to Dallas, again. My flight was uneventful, and the plane was scarcely occupied by other passengers. I had the entire row to myself.

I was startled awake by the sound of the captain over the speaker system and quickly realized that I must have fallen asleep. It shocked me that I had fallen asleep during my flight home. I didn’t sleep much in general, but I most certainly never slept in cars, boats, trains, or planes.

I blinked away the sleep and heard what sounded like the captain’s final remarks about ‘making our descent.’ I straightened my clothing and sat up in my seat to brace for the landing. While I was getting readjusted, I realized that I must have been sleeping awfully hard because my entire right side from my shoulder down to my toes was tingly and asleep. My right arm and leg were useless with the odd sensation of a million needle pricks under my skin. It was dreadful. I made my best effort to bring the blood flow back to my extremities, but by the time I had to get up and exit the plane, my right side was still rather useless and numb. I decided to attempt walking normally.

Well, I can’t feel a damn thing, but I’m walking. One foot in front of the other. This works
.

I was rather pleased with myself for walking so well in my favorite jeans and new high-heeled leather boots, even though I couldn’t feel one bit of my right side. I made my way down the terminal with my leather messenger bag hanging off my shoulder and the portfolio with my sketches firmly gripped in both my hands. I held my sketches to my chest to make doubly sure that none of them would be lost. I was beginning to second guess my choice of footwear when I realized that the combination of being partially numb and wearing new boots made me less than steady on my feet. I’m sure that perhaps I even looked intoxicated.

Great, Kat! That’s what you need. Get tossed out of the airport for being an alleged drunk
!

I did my best to keep my stride steady and even, but the boots on my feet were very slick on the bottom. Like a true genius, I had not taken the time to scuff up the bottoms on pavement to ensure they would have some traction.

Rookie mistake Boss! Try not to make a total fool of yourself in front of all these passengers
.

I inwardly chided myself.

Excellent. Now you look like a drunk, physically handicapped child walking around an airport with zero grace, except you’re a twenty-six-year-old, unemployed divorcee who was dumb enough to wear brand new, high-heeled boots through two airports today.

I wasn’t sure which one of those descriptions was more flattering, and my self-esteem shrank even further as my deprecating private thoughts ran amok. My private reprimand was partially muttered to myself, and I could see other travelers staring at me from beneath my double-coated mascaraed lashes. I did my best to keep walking, but the feeling in my right arm and leg was dreadfully slow to return. I stared down at my feet willing them to keep steady and straight. I was just about to walk past a set of bathrooms when a man came speed walking from behind me and crossed in front of my path, effectively cutting my unsteady self off.

I attempted to halt my walk abruptly to avoid a collision but in doing so, I staggered forward. I had wide eyes as I spun around while stumbling backward like a small child ice skating for the first time. As I stumbled back a few steps doing my best to gain control over my body, I tripped over and tangled up in a yellow ‘Caution Wet Floor’ sign and fell backward with great force. My arms flew up and fluttered like a flightless bird attempting to defy destiny, and the last thing I saw was colorful art sketches floating through the air, raining down around me in slow motion. My head hit the floor with a thud and subtly bounced like a half-inflated basketball. Then I saw… nothing.

What seemed like hours later, I began to wake up from the darkness that had swallowed me. I attempted to convince my eyes to open, but they refused my pleas. Suddenly I felt a swift jerk beneath my sprawled, limp body, and my hair swished and tickled around my neck.

Ouch! Oh no, no, no. Crap, my head! Wait, someone just picked me up. How embarrassing! Snap out of it, Kat
!

I was lifted off the cold hard floor. I still couldn’t open my eyes, and my head began thrumming and pulsating with pain and rushing blood. I couldn’t tell who or what had picked me up off of the floor, but I could smell something.

Mmmmm, smells nice.

I could smell something, or rather someone, and that person smelled heavenly. With my eyes welded shut, my nose was as keen as the snout on a bloodhound.

Something smelled like the woods and body soap and fresh laundry and… man.

My hearing was muffled, but I could make out multiple different voices around me before he spoke. I felt him speak more than I heard him. Whatever came out of his mouth sounded unclear, but I could tell he had a deep voice. His words escaped my ears and reverberated as a tactile sensation, vibrating through his chest and into my incapacitated body as I was held close to him. The feeling was surprisingly soothing. I tried to make out what was being said while I battled with my own body to cooperate. My hearing began to clear, and only a low-pitch ringing remained to hinder my ability to listen. Even through the ringing in my ears and the pulse in my brain, I could make out the words that he was speaking to me. His mouth was right up against my left ear, and I could feel the warmth from his breath against my ear. I could feel his lips brush against my skin, and my wretched body went bat-shit crazy with the sensation that the stroke of his lips against my ear elicited.

“Are you with me, Kathleen?” That voice was one I knew, but couldn’t immediately place.

Who the hell is this? He knows my name. I know this person. Wake up, dummy!

Realization hit me like a bullet in the chest, and if I could have gasped, screamed and gone running in the opposite direction at that moment, I was sure I would have.

Oh. My. God! Please God, deliver me from this hell.
It was him. ‘Him’ was Ben. Ben was ‘him.’
No! God, no. Not the highly arrogant, super handsome, Mr. Sex-on-egs, BEN, from the bookstore!

It was him. Mr. Rude-as-hell Book Thief himself, in the flesh. I couldn’t believe it. I was searching my brain for answers.

Why is he carrying me? Where are we going? What if he is a murderer? Open your eyes, Kat!

At that point of realization, I began having a panic attack along with a pounding head and a generous side of complete humiliation. The adrenaline from my self-induced panic attack was a perk, since it helped me convince my heavy eyelids to open, allowing my green eyes to peep out. As soon as my eyes focused, I was able to confirm my suspicion. It was strong, handsome, arrogant Ben the Book Thief carrying me against his chest. I nearly fainted again once I saw him, but instead my mouth spoke on its own volition.

“Put me down now!”

Way to sound appreciative, Kat
.

The moment I spoke, his eyes shot down to mine, and he half smiled at me.

“Oh. Good. You are with me,” he said in a relaxed manner while I was sure that I was moments from suffering a massive coronary.

“Please put me down. I can walk,” I pleaded.

“Well, sorry Kathleen, but you took a nasty fall back there. I’m taking you to my car, and we are going to the hospital.” He didn’t even look at me while he dictated what I would be doing.

“We will be doing no such thing. I’m fine. I fell, no big deal. The only part of me that is wounded is my ego, and you only wound me further by carrying me through an airport like I’m a child! Shit! Where are my things?” He kept on walking without even acknowledging my demands to release me.

“There is a nice gentlemen walking behind me that has all of your belongings. I assure you they have not disappeared. I am taking you to the hospital. You lost consciousness, which means you should be seen by a doctor. Have you ever had a head injury?” I was taken aback by his sudden interest in my medical history.

“Uh, yeah, I, um… had a concussion few years ago. Why the hell does that matter?”

“All the more reason to be seen by a doctor.”

“For God sakes Ben, will you please put me down?”

“Okay, fine! Here.” He abruptly dropped me to my feet rather roughly, making his distaste for my demands clear. I stumbled and got light-headed again.

Dammit!
After making his point that I was still unsteady on my feet, he grabbed me around my waist and held me firm against him as we made our way out of the airport.