Before You

SEVENTY-SIX

JARED

Me: Just say the words, Billie …

Billie: Soon.

SEVENTY-SEVEN

BILLIE

“THIS IS a boarding call for Flight Twenty-One to Martha’s Vineyard. All first-class and business-class passengers are welcome to board at this time,” the gate agent said as I was seated right next to his desk.

I glanced down at the oversize bag on my lap that I’d placed there when we first arrived at the gate. In it, I’d packed us Twizzlers and crackers and lots of gum. There were also bottles of essential oils that I was already lathered in. My tablet and laptop and phone were all loaded with more than enough entertainment for us.

Knowing that was the announcement we’d been waiting for, I went to stand and felt a hand on my leg. It stayed there for just a second, and then it found my fingers and squeezed them so tightly.

The contact gave me more calmness that I needed.

I glanced to my left to respond. I couldn’t smile yet. But if it were possible, I would have. Instead, I took a deep breath and let it simmer for several seconds before I said, “I’m okay.”

“You’re really ready to do this?”

I looked down at Ally’s hand that was wrapped around mine and then up at her face. “Yes.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you right now.”

It was a few weeks shy of the one-year anniversary of the crash.

It was time.

And I was ready to get this part of my life back.

I tightened my grip, my way of responding, before I released her. I then lifted the thick handles of my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Once I took a step, I found my phone and got my e-ticket ready.

“Good morning,” the gate agent said.

“Hi.” I placed my phone on the reader and waited until it beeped before I moved to the side, so Ally could do the same.

As soon as she finished, she linked her hand with mine again, and we entered the jet bridge.

“Talk to me.”

I felt her eyes on me and said, “I’m really okay.”

This wasn’t the first time I’d been to the airport since the crash. Part of my therapy included coming here on several different occasions where I walked down a jet bridge, stepped onto a plane, and sat in one of the rows. The only thing I hadn’t done was get in the air.

She brought my fingers up to her mouth and kissed my knuckles, making the same sound she used when she was trying to get her daughter to giggle. “How okay are you? Like, selfie-level okay?”

We were at the beginning of the jet bridge, and I turned to her. My heart was racing but not in a way I couldn’t handle. My hands were fidgety, but I’d found that was my new normal.

I thought of all the people who would want to see that picture.

Of the faces that would smile when they saw it.

“How about this?” I closed my eyes and took in another long inhale, holding it in for just a second. “I’ll do it but only if you send the photo to my dad.”

I swore, her eyes teared a little when she responded, “Deal.”

My eyes did the same as I thought of the only person I was going to send the picture to.

The one whose presence I could feel even though his hand wasn’t holding mine.

SEVENTY-EIGHT

JARED

Me: I couldn’t be prouder. Now, go start living, beautiful girl.

EPILOGUE

JARED

I SAT in the back of the small restaurant and faced the front door. I knew Billie’s flight had already arrived, and I was sure she had checked into her hotel. The only thing I couldn’t predict was if she’d dine at her favorite restaurant on the first night she was in Italy, the same way she had done the last time she visited the country. That was why I kept my eyes on the entrance, watching every face that came in.

I had been sitting here for a few hours when my wrist began to hurt. That was the moment I knew change was coming. I felt it in my heart, in the breeze that wafted in when the door opened. Billie stepped into the intimate space, glancing in both directions.

It had been fourteen months since the crash, and this was the first time she had gone overseas since she started flying again a little more than two months ago. I didn’t make it a habit of checking her social media. It was too hard, knowing she wasn’t ready to be with me. But when I had seen her post about the trip, I reached out to Ally, wanting to surprise Billie in Venice. After some convincing that I would never hurt her best friend again, Ally had become my main source of information.