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He ignores her and continues. “And your friends and your apartment? Are you ready to give up your entire life?”

“Calvin, I—” Tears choke the words right out of my mouth.

“Because if there’s even a tiny part of you that isn’t ready, you shouldn’t chase after him.”

20

Aiden

Love is like a fart, if you have to force it, it’s probably shit. –Liz

“Now boarding group A for flight 3721 to San Francisco.”

I stare blankly at the ticket in my hand. I’m not group A. I’m preferred boarding. The company bought me a first-class ticket, and I should already be sitting comfortably on the plane, but I’m not. Instead, I’m sitting here wondering what in the hell I’m doing.

Am I making the right choice? Will I forever regret my decision? My gut burns with uncertainty, and I drop my head.

A man and woman walk by me, ushering along three kids, two of whom are screaming. I look up in time to see a few other passengers cringe and roll their eyes.

Thank God, I’m in first class.

I love kids, but today, I don’t have the patience. Lack of sleep and an exorbitant amount of worry will do that to a guy.

And just like that, my thoughts are back on Lizzie. She hasn’t answered one call, responded to a single text message, and she refused to open the door to her apartment when I knew damn well that she was in there.

I’m not ready to give up on her, but I also can’t wait around for her to pull her head out of her ass. She has to want this—us—as much as I do, and I’m not convinced that she does.

I miss her so damn much.

I’d gotten used to being with her every night and seeing that gorgeous smile first thing each morning. If she doesn’t come back to me, I don’t know how I’ll survive.

With a lot of Jack, Jim, and Johnnie, that’s how.

I already have a headache just thinking about it.

“Now boarding group B for flight 3721 to San Francisco.”

I’m running out of time, but something in my gut is telling me not to get on that plane. I sit while the passengers file through the line. The attendant calls out family boarding and group C, and when she makes the final call, she looks at me.

“Sir, are you going to board the plane, or not?”

This is it. I slap the boarding pass in my hand and stand up. I do one final sweep to make sure I’ve got everything, grab my bag, and hand her my boarding pass.

“Traveling for work or pleasure?” she asks, scanning the ticket.

“Work.”

“San Francisco is gorgeous. You’re going to love it there.” She hands the ticket back. “You’re all set. Have a nice trip.”

“Thank you.”

I stuff the boarding pass into my back pocket and walk down the sky bridge.

“Welcome, sir.” A pretty flight attendant greets me with a warm smile. “There are two seats left in first class. I’m guessing one of them is yours.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

She takes my carry-on and puts it in the overhe



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