Today's Reading
"For better or worse," I repeat.
He smiles, wide and beaming, and I feel it all the way in my chest. "Now, I think this is the part where I get to kiss the bride."
Laughter bursts out of my mouth and he catches the sound, his lips sliding against mine. His hands come up to cradle my face, and I reach for him in return, running my hands along his arms, his neck, threading my fingers through his hair.
What Nikhil said earlier was true. I've never really deviated from my plans before. Never really done anything reckless. But this doesn't feel reckless. This just feels right.
I love him and I don't care what it takes. The two of us are going to be okay. We're going to go back home. To Houston. And we're going to make this marriage work.
CHAPTER ONE
PRESENT DAY
I step out of Houston's Hobby Airport and walk straight into hell.
Literally. Figuratively. Emotionally. I'm in hell in all ways.
Part of me is tempted to turn right back around. Southwest has a steady handful of flights between here and D.C. I'll just march to the counter, buy a new flight, and be on my way. No one will know about this out-of-character burst of irrationality. No one will know I was ever here, in my hometown, the one place I promised I would never return to. I'll leave the past where it belongs and just...move forward.
Except, I can't. That's why I'm here.
I pull out my phone and check the Uber app. The ride I called the second the wheels made contact with the runway is still a good twelve minutes away. Of course. The universe knows how much I don't want to be here, how quickly I want to get this all over with. So, it's doing the exact opposite. Slowing things down. With my luck, we'll end up hitting traffic on the way there, dragging things out even more.
I check my work email, firing off a few quick responses as I walk to the designated pickup spot.
Call the Speaker's office and ask for Sonia. If she can convince him to adjust the language on paragraph 3A back, he may just find that he has a majority for that highway bill he's been dying to pass.
Yes to the meeting with the Section 8 housing nonprofit, and a hard no to the natural gas group. (Putting aside the fact that our climate advocacy clients might actually kill us, we're just not that kind of firm.)
Just got confirmation that they're pulling walking human nightmare Judge Bates off the short list for that opening on the 5th Circuit (thank god). Good work, everyone.
I'm moving to slip my phone back into my purse when something sharp collides with the middle of my back. I stumble, my phone falling out of my hand. I wince at the thwack it makes as it hits the concrete.
"Sorry," a man's voice calls. "Sorry about that." I turn to face the perpetrator, but I only catch a glimpse of a dark-haired man, his hand holding tight to a young girl's. They're navigating through the crowd, walking quickly toward the entrance of the airport, and it's only then that I notice the number of people that are moving alongside them.
Houston's crowded. It's a big city. It's not unusual for the airport to be busy, but still, something in the air feels off. It kind of reminds me of my usual morning commute. People move at a quick clip, a slightly frenzied, caffeine-induced adrenaline spurring their steps. But it's not the kind of crowd I expected to find here, on a Saturday morning. The energy is strange. Almost...frenetic.
I squat to pick up my phone, dusting it off and grimacing when I flip it over and see the large crack now running across the screen. Great. The universe strikes again. Or maybe I really am in hell. The blistering heat from the sun and the slight scent of sulfur invading my nose certainly make it seem that way.
I swipe toward the rideshare app, trying to see how much longer I'll have to wait for my car. The image is all blurry, the screen distorted because of the fall. The phone buzzes in my palm, some kind of notification banner flashing across the top. I squint, but the text is unreadable. I think it's an emoji or icon. Something gray and round. Maybe a cloud? I pull it closer to my face, trying to make it out, but before I can the phone vibrates again, a little green symbol popping up. An incoming call. I answer, even though I can't quite read who it's from.
"Hello?"
"Meena, why the hell is your location set to Houston?"
...
