Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

PETE

The hard, unforgiving chair dug into Pete's thighs as she sat alone at the bar of a restaurant near her gate, her posture mirroring the heavy weight of her melancholy mood. Families laughing, couples talking, children running — the terminal buzzed around her, yet she felt utterly alone. The noise only highlighted the emptiness she felt, amplifying the silence in her head.

She was a seasoned solo traveler, with countless hours in airports under her belt. Today felt different, though. Maybe it was because she was in Denver — so close to Danica she could hardly stand to stay in the airport instead of showing up at her window with a boombox. Not a great idea, given Danica's sudden exit, leaving only the lingering scent of her rosemary shampoo and a void inside Pete.

She sipped her beer, its hoppy bitterness a momentary distraction from her thoughts. Maybe she was just feeling out of sorts because Izzy had been sick that morning, and had to delay joining her on the trip. They'd successfully taken two trips in the last six weeks to introduce her to the foundation's partner organizations in Greece and Croatia. Izzy had been a natural. She had a way of understanding people that Pete respected, and others seemed to respect her, too. They'd been closely working together to delegate tasks and get Izzy completely onboard, and Izzy was rising to the occasion just as Pete knew she would.

Pete's fingers occasionally tapped her phone, but there was nothing new to distract her. Izzy had her notifications on silent, probably sleeping on her bathroom floor if she was as sick as she’d claimed. She glanced at the screen again, flicking open her news app as she watched the minutes go by with agonizing slowness. Her eyes scanned the same stale headlines as repetitive flight announcements droned in the background.

She observed couples close by, their hushed words and soft laughter emphasizing her solitude. The idea of a honeymoon, of traveling with a partner just for fun remained a distant, elusive dream for her.

She'd been lonely and mopey ever since her Telluride trip. She’d bought a houseplant just to feel something, and now she worried it wouldn’t survive the three weeks she’d be in Costa Rica. She used to travel without a second thought, but something had shifted inside of her when she'd realized that she wanted to spend the future with Danica. With Danica's silent departure, her hopes, plans, and dreams of a future together had evaporated. Her feelings for Danica seemed to unlock desires she’d long suppressed — a stable, quiet life with someone she loved. Now she was a moody mess sitting in an airport bar.

Letting out a soft sigh, she dug into her bag in search of a distraction, her fingers coming across an unread book, a partially filled water bottle, and a crumpled receipt. Leaning back in the hard chair, she briefly closed her eyes, the dull ache of loneliness settling in her chest.

She thought she heard a familiar voice say her name, then mentally chastised herself for daydreaming. Wait. There it was again, she realized. She opened her eyes and turned in her seat, scanning the bar.

"Pete fucking Pancott," the voice hollered, and this time, Pete was sure that it was Danica. Confused, she finally spotted her, standing at the entrance to the bar area. Danica’s messy bun, oversized sweatshirt inexplicably advertising Costco hot dogs, and straight-leg jeans with a grass stain on one knee signaled that she’d been in a bit of a hurry.

Pete's heart stuttered in her chest. "I... you... What? What is happening?" she said with an incredible amount of eloquence. "Wendell?"

Pete stood from her chair, frozen, her heart pounding as she watched Danica step into the bar, looking as unsure and vulnerable as Pete had ever seen her. The air around them seemed to still, and for a moment, everything else faded—the blur of travelers rushing past, the hum of overhead announcements, the sharp scent of coffee and jet fuel. It felt like time itself was holding its breath. Danica wasn’t just standing there, though — she was waiting .

Pete stared at her in shock and delight and absolute confusion. "Are you flying somewhere?”

"I'm sorry for just showing up like some kind of stalker. Izzy sent me a screenshot of your exact location on Life360, so I knew you'd be at this bar, and..." Danica trailed off, awkwardly fidgeting with a pulled string in her oversized sweater.

"Okay?" Pete said. "That really only opens up more questions." Pete’s pulse quickened, the weight of everything they’d left unsaid suddenly crashing down on her. She wanted to pull Danica into a hug, demand answers to the questions that had been eating away at her, but she was paralyzed. Why now? Pete’s mind raced. Things had felt so right between them in Telluride, but so much had changed since Danica had left without a word. So much had been left in the air, unspoken. And yet, here Danica was, standing in front of her, all the walls Danica had built suddenly crumbling under the weight of something else: hope.

"I wanted to apologize for leaving like I did. That was wrong of me. I shouldn't have left without saying more. I woke up, and I panicked, and I thought it'd be easier for both of us if I spared us the awkwardness. I should have just been honest with you and let you see me struggle, but I was… I was scared. I mean, after that graduation night quad break up, I spent fifteen years regretting every word I said. I didn't want to chance it. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm an idiot," Danica said, pausing to pick up Pete's beer and take a large gulp.

Pete was pretty sure she had a dazed expression on her face. Danica’s words seemed to hang in the air between them, soft but heavy, as if they carried all the weight of the last six weeks. Pete felt a rush of emotions, a mix of relief and disbelief, but most of all, a deep, painful ache that settled in her throat. She’d spent so much time wrestling with the silence, the unanswered questions, the feeling that maybe Danica hadn’t cared as much as Pete had. And now, hearing that sincere, raw apology felt like the floodgates opening, letting out all the hurt and hope she’d kept buried. She wanted to speak, to say something, but the lump in her throat made it impossible. Instead, she just stood there, staring at Danica, her heart pounding, her mind racing. Was this real? Was she really here, really apologizing? Part of Pete was terrified that this was just a brief moment of vulnerability, that Danica would pull away again and slip back into the distance. But another part of her — a part she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge until now — was ready to believe, ready to let go of the hurt and take a chance on something that still felt so right between them.

"I'm not adventurous. I'm boring. I like vanilla ice cream and I get excited over new pajamas and I work too much. You're not boring. You're brave and caring and so, so fun to be around. When I'm around you, I want to be fun. I want to be a better, more fun me. You see me, and you see that I'm boring, and you've never tried to change me. You've just always steadily encouraged me to try new things, to trust in myself. I love that about you," Danica said, shifting her weight from foot to foot, restless and uncomfortable.

By then, other patrons, without embarrassment, faced Danica as her voice grew louder and surer. Pete glanced toward the bartender, who had been drying the same cup for the last three or four minutes.

"And I know I was a coward to leave. And I honestly can't imagine how to make our lives work together, and that terrifies me. I love plans, and you go with the flow, and I didn’t know how to find a way where we’re both happy. I know in Telluride, you said you saw a future with me, and I wasn’t there yet, but the past six weeks without you has made me realize I was wrong. I do see a future with you. I was letting this idea of perfection get in the way of the raw, messy happiness we could have.” Danica paused, looking pained by the idea of letting Pete see her, but bravely pushing through the discomfort. “I want to figure out our future together .”

Pete’s cheeks were flushed, her heart racing in her chest. She never imagined Danica saying those words. She felt both thrilled and terrified by the possibility before them.

Pete’s breath caught in her throat. Did she really want this? Did she want to try again? The answer hit her with a sudden, undeniable force. Yes . She wanted it more than anything. But now she had to figure out if she could forgive the silence, the distance, the fear that had kept them apart. “You do?” she asked, needing to hear it again.

“You make me want adventure and spontaneity. I mean, I checked in on my phone while stopped at a red light on the way here, and I don't even know what's in my suitcase, and I... I'm like, really far out of my comfort zone right now, but you make it all seem possible. You make everything seem possible, because you believe everything is possible, and I love that about you. I don’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for, but if you’re game for one last run, so am I.”

Pete softened, smiling at Danica as the words spilled from her mouth. She was incredible and brave to come all this way just to do this. Pete knew Danica hated every aspect of this situation — the vulnerable public declaration, the awkward surprise arrival — and Pete found it all incredibly endearing and lovable. Still, she couldn’t resist a tiny bit of teasing. "You know the one last run superstition.”

“We might get hurt, we might make a dumb mistake, but I want to fucking try.” Danica was smiling, her eyes flashing with tears, her cheeks flushed.

Pete felt the last worry leave her mind, reaching to push a strand of Danica’s hair behind her ear. Danica stared at her, her ocean blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, waiting expectantly. She was so beautiful, so open and vulnerable. They’d figure it out. They would struggle, and fight, and celebrate, and learn from each other. She had no doubt.

“I love you, too,” Pete said finally, pulling Danica against her.

"That’s not what I said," Danica argued weakly, her arms wrapping around Pete's waist.

"Didn’t you?" Pete teased, leaning to kiss Danica, urgent and messy and real. They fit like two halves finding themselves whole once more. Several people around them began clapping, and she let herself give into the joy of the awkwardness, kissing Danica without worry.

"I do love you. I’ve loved you for so long," Danica said against Pete’s lips as they paused for a breath.

"How did this all happen? How did you know Izzy canceled and I'd be alone?" Pete asked. She'd almost rescheduled her own flight, but Izzy had insisted she go ahead and have a few days to herself to relax.

"Those meddling friends of ours," Danica said, her grin both wry and mischievous.

Pete's eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

Danica shared all the details of Kiera unexpectedly showing up at her door while they shared the rest of Pete's beer, but then Pete realized something. "Wait, you booked a flight to Costa Rica? With me?"

"Yeah, what other flight would it be?" Danica asked with a laugh.

Honestly, Pete thought that Danica might have bought a cheap flight just to get past security and talk to her, but the idea of Danica coming to Costa Rica made Pete swing her around in excitement. Danica laughed, the sound causing Pete’s heart to explode with happiness. "What seat did you get?"

Danica shrugged. "Uh, I'm not sure. It didn't let me pick."

Pete nodded seriously. "Okay, we've got to go fix that while we can. I'm not spending another moment without you by my side."

Danica beamed up at her, raising onto her tip-toes to kiss Pete once more.

Holding hands, they hurried breathless with happiness toward the ticket counter. Danica initially protested the first-class upgrade, but Pete shut that down quickly, stating that it was the only way they'd be able to sit together. Danica was going to have to get used to getting a little spoiled.

As they boarded the plane, Danica whispered, "Do you think it's okay that I'm wearing a sweatshirt that says ‘I got that dog in me’ in first class? Don’t they have rules?"

Pete couldn't help but laugh. "Somehow, I don't think they'll kick us off the plane for that, Wendell."

"I've never been up here with all the fancy people," Danica admitted as Pete ushered her into their row, giving her the window seat. The flight attendant appeared with champagne, and they each took a glass. "There’s champagne? Wow, don’t let me get used to this or I’m going to become so insufferable."

Pete snorted with laughter as she watched Danica's exuberant bouncing — a joyful, carefree energy radiating from her. “It suits you.”

Danica stopped, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow as her eyes darted around, as though in search of something specific. "I usually hate flying, but look at all this leg room, and they give you bubbles right away. Maybe there's a hot tub behind one of these curtains."

Pete laughed, taking Danica's hand in her own and kissing her fingertips. "The hotel has one, you know, in case you need a happier thought during this flight."

“I can't wait," Danica said, glowing with excitement. She rested her head back against the seat, her expression soft. "I can't wait for every little thing with you."