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  “I don’t think your wife would like this situation,” I state calmly.

  He stills and his face flushes red, he takes a step back. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”

  “I think that’s best.”

  He looks down at the floor and then turns and takes the few steps to the door. He puts a hand on the knob and pauses, he turns back toward me. “Will you give me your new contact information?”

  “I think it's best if we just cut ties.” As the words slip from my lips, I feel like a ton of bricks has been lifted off my shoulders. I have always wanted to say that but was afraid that once I admitted it to myself, that I might be wrong, that maybe he was always the only one.

  He isn’t. I know that now more definitely than I have ever known it.

  “I thought you'd say that, you're a hard woman, Charlotte,” he delivers the parting shot and opens the door.

  “Have a great life, Henry. I know I plan to,” I say as he closes the door behind him. I refrain from running to the door, opening it and shouting some scathing remark. Him calling me hard is just because he never could handle a strong independent woman. He has a little wife at home now, he should be happy. I turn back to my living room full of boxes. My reminder that I just closed the door on my old life and I’m about to fling open the door to my new life.

  Three

  An electric excitement builds in my belly as we deplane. I can't wipe the smile off my face no matter how exhausted I am. I’ve been through this terminal plenty of times when I used to come over to visit Louise, so I know exactly where to go. We all file out like cattle and head to the packed customs area, only this time I get to go into a different line.

  I follow the signs for the British passport line, the accents all around me comforting. The line moves quickly, not like when I would have to use the line for my American passport.

  My palms are sweaty and I look around, watching to see how people just hand over their documents and move forward. Nothing life-changing in their actions, just a tedious part of their traveling experience. My nerves are on edge; this feels like I’m doing something wrong. I suppress a sound of nervous excitement. I’m up next! I hand my new passport over and the Customs official opens it at the photo page, checks my picture against my face and then scans it through his computer without showing any kind of emotion. He has no clue how important this moment is to me.

  Once he has completed his checks, he closes my passport and hands it back to me, finally looking at me with a smile. “Welcome home,” he says warmly.

  I can only return his smile. Home, I think to myself as I move on to baggage claim.

  When I walk through those double doors, my eyes scan the crowd looking for vibrant red hair. Once I’m clear of the exit walkway, I stop and get my cell phone out, turning it on. It takes a few seconds while it syncs up to the new country and a message pops up.

  Louise: Stuck in traffic. I’ll be there soon. Xx

  I shrug slightly at her text, I expected it. The girl will be late to her funeral.

  Me: K

  Texting her back one letter gives me satisfaction because it annoys her. I can just hear her huff and see the eye roll. I bet she even presses her foot down on the gas pedal to go faster. Anyway, I don’t mind, it gives me a few extra minutes to go into my first stop whenever I arrive.

  I walk into the airport branch of Pret and the cashiers take my order, then quickly move on to the next customer with the same smile. I find a seat and park my luggage beside me so I can take my time with my coffee and pastry while I wait for Louise. I know I have a good half hour before she even gets to the airport. I love Louise dearly, but she is always late, I had to learn to accept that years ago.

  I peel off a crispy piece of the croissant and take a bite, closing my eyes as the buttery flavor melts in my mouth. Something about the dairy is richer in the UK. It makes everything creamier, butterier, crispier…just…better. Who am I kidding? Everything is better over here.

  “Do you mind if I share your table?” a deep, Scottish accent asks above me. It sounds like how I would imagine a finely aged whiskey would have if it spoke.

  I look up and words fail me. Instead of replying, I nod meekly and incline my head as the Scottish dream sits down across the table from me. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a full-on beard. He sets his arms on the small table and I notice a tattoo crawling up his forearm under the pulled back sleeve of his shirt. His hair is long enough on top to be tied back effortlessly, but the sides shaved close. He has west coast hipster written all over him, but his Scottish accent squashes that thought right away. He’s easy on the eyes, though not my type at all. I’m more of a clean-cut businessman kind of girl.

  “My apologies for barging in and interrupting what looks to be the murder of a fantastic croissant. It’s just, seats are at a premium here and I’m knackered.” He gives me a charming smile.

  I swallow and stare. His voice is a little more elegant than his appearance. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

  “Thank you. What part of the States are you from?” he inquires, taking a sip from his Pret cup.

  “New York, is it that obvious?”

  “That you’re American? Yes. But I wouldn’t have placed you from New York though.” He sits back and studies me for a moment.

  "No? Where would you place me then?” I don't have a strong New York accent, seeing where people put me has always been a fun game for me.

  “I don’t know, but your accent is more refined than most New Yorkers I’ve met."

  I laugh. "I took speech lessons in high school so I wouldn’t have that accent. Sometimes it's ear piercing." I finish up the last of my pastry, almost tempted to get another one. I didn't eat any of the in-flight meals.

  “Understandable, you come across the same thing here. The farther north you go the harder it is to understand people.”

  “I will have to remember that.” I look down at my watch and see that twenty minutes have passed. “It’s been lovely chatting with you, I need to go meet my friend,” I tell him, getting to my feet.

  “Thank you for sharing your table,” he says, standing in a gentlemanly gesture.

  “No problem, you have a lovely day.” I smile, pushing my cart away from the table.

  “You too,” he replies. “Miss…?”

  I choose to appear not to hear his question. I’m far enough away to have not heard him and I don’t really want to get into a conversation about my marital status with a stranger, however beautiful he is. Louise would be trying to get me to stay and have a chat with him, but he really isn’t my cup of tea.

  I leave the coffee stop and see her from across the terminal looking for me. Her head goes down, and she stops walking. This is her texting stance and a moment later, my phone buzzes in my pocket, so I pull it out.

  Louise: I’m here!

  I can feel her excitement through the text.

  Me: I see you.

  I add the crying laughing emoji and hit send.

  I know the second she reads the message because she goes on tiptoes and starts searching the crowd with more urgency. I hunch over, so I appear smaller in the group and start pushing the cart in her direction. Louise isn't paying attention to where she is walking, she just keeps looking over the crowd, and this enables me to push the cart right in her way, so she stumbles into it.

  “Oh, I’m sor…" She stops mid-word when she sees it's me. “Bitch!" she hisses, then immediately steps around the cart and throws her arms around me.

  “Can you believe I’m really here?” I break away from her tight embrace. As much as I love her, I still find hugging awkward.

  “I'm so happy and equally mad that you didn't prepare me."

  I wave her off with my hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I didn’t need you riding my ass. I do things on my own time.”

  "Don't I know it." She rolls her eyes.

  “I’m glad they gave you the day off today.”

  “I know how you feel about carrying your luggage through the
tube,” she says, laughing.

  “It’s not so much the luggage as your London power walk.”

  “Come on, let’s get your stuff in the car. Are you hungry?”

  “Crepes?” I grin. I can almost taste the sweet crepes we always get as soon as we hit Covent Garden. It’s so surreal to think that I don’t have to cram in all the food and sites with her quickly this time, because this time I won’t be leaving.

  “Of course, it’s our place.”

  "Well let's crack on," I say with my best English accent and laugh.

  “Oh Lord, Mary Poppins is back,” she mutters and shakes her head as she starts her London power walk through the airport.

  I wonder if the sight of London will ever get old. I take in all the buildings as we walk our way through Covent Garden to the little crêperie that is nestled in the basement of the old apple market. I find a new statue or detail on a building every time I'm here.

  Although, I take pride in being a serious businesswoman, there is a young girl inside me who adores this historic place and gets lost in fantasies about a time far back in history when perhaps Kings and Queens could be seen visiting. I know it’s silly, this was an old apple market, not the kind of place you’d find a royal taking a stroll, but it’s nice to dream.

  "How hungry are you?" Louise asks as we walk into the shop.

  “I can eat, what do you have in mind?”

  "I thought we could get our usual and then share one."

  “Sounds perfect to me.”

  She orders for the both of us, and I hand cash over to the woman behind the counter.

  “Are we starting this already?” She rolls her eyes and grabs our drinks.

  "Does it ever actually end?" I take my change.

  We take a seat by the front window so we can people watch outside. I'm silent as I look at the people running about their day.

  “You are so funny.” Louise puts my lemon drop crêpe down in front of me.

  “I know but what did I do this time?”

  “You look around with wonder in your eyes and a silly grin on your face.” She cuts into her crepe, putting a bite into her mouth and closes her eyes moaning.

  "It's different this time though. I don't ever have to leave.”

  “I know, I can’t believe it. I always thought it was a far-fetched dream.”

  I flash her a look that tells her I always knew I would get here, even if she didn’t believe it. Then I take a huge bite of my crêpe. The sweet and sour of the lemon and sugar tickles my taste buds and I groan. “These get better each time I have one."

  We finish up and walk back to Louise’s place nearby, it’s really hard to believe this is now my home. I've dreamed of it for so long, that to be here finally makes all the shit I went through with Henry worth it.

  “How many times has Henry called you?” Louise asks with perfect timing as always.

  “He can’t.” Laughter bubbles up inside me and I giggle loudly.

  “What do you mean he can’t?” She frowns.

  “I gave back my work phone and laptop before I quit and I’ve had all the mail and voice mails forwarded to him.”

  “So if he emails or calls you?”

  “It goes right back to him.” We stop at the door to her building and lean into each other laughing.

  “Oh my God, Charlotte. That is brilliant.”

  “I thought so.” I was pretty proud of myself. “I’ll be getting a UK number tomorrow for my personal phone and never looking back.”

  When we reach the top of the stairs that lead to her flat, she takes her key out and unlocks the door. As soon as we step inside, a feminine voice calls out. “Lou?”

  Louise looks at me and opens her mouth to tell me something, when this tiny thing races toward us up the hallway and throws herself into Louise's arms.

  “I’m here! I packed my crap up and I’m all yours.” She showers her face with kisses, oblivious to my presence.

  “You should have called me, Cami,” Louise says as she separates herself from the girl’s embrace, but she doesn’t seem annoyed that she is here, giving her a warm smile as she looks at her.

  “I know, but I knew you wouldn’t mind. I couldn’t wait to be with you now that I’m free of him.”

  Louise kisses her tenderly. “How did it go?” she asks softly.

  The girl rolls her eyes. “As we thought. But it doesn’t matter now. He didn’t want to share me so it’s his loss.” She grins at Louise. “It’s just you and me, together now for real.”

  Louise beams from ear to ear and holds her tight.

  I watch the private interaction, stunned. I don’t know what to do to insert myself into the situation without it being awkward. I feel like I shouldn’t be here. I close the front door behind me, the loud click bringing their attention to me.

  “Who’s she?” The frown that appears on the girl’s face as she eyes me with suspicion is hilarious.

  “Cam, this is Charlotte,” Louise says, then looks at me. "Charlotte, meet…” She looks back at her with a big stupid grin. “This is my girlfriend, Cami."

  I don't even have time to react before Cami rushes me and throws her arms around me. "American Charlotte? You're here! Oh my God, Lou misses you so much. I’m so glad you’re here,” she fires off, while squeezing me harder.

  My eyes pop open, and I look to Louise for help.

  “Sweetheart, let go. Charlotte doesn’t do hugs.” Amusement is clear in Louise’s voice.

  “Oh, sorry,” she chirps cheerfully and steps back. “I’ve heard so much about you. How long are you here for?”

  “Ummm, I…” I’m at a loss for words. Louise has some major explaining to do. I have never heard of this girlfriend or even gotten the impression she’s had a hookup recently. She is extraordinary at keeping her little secrets then taking me to task when I do the same. I raise a questioning brow at her.

  "She’s come here to live, Cami,” Louise answers for me, ignoring my accusing stare. “I just found out a couple of days ago." She still has the nerve to frown at me for keeping my secret when here we are right in the freaking middle of hers.

  “Brilliant!” Cami exclaims. “The three of us are going to have so much fun living together.” She gives me another quick hug.

  I raise my brow at Louise and mouth, ‘Girlfriend?’ over Cami’s shoulder. Louise just shrugs her shoulders and smirks.

  “Oh sorry, no hugging.” Cami suddenly remembers and releases me, stepping back to stand at Louise’s side, taking her hand and linking their fingers together.

  “It's okay, baby.” Louise laughs. “She’ll get over it.”

  Baby? Good Lord, she is going to have to do some serious talking.

  “Good.” Cami giggles. “I mean how can you not like hugging? Is that an American thing?” she asks in her sing-song voice. I can already tell Cami is a person with no social filter whatsoever.

  “No, they hug in America,” I inform her. “This is a ‘Charlotte' thing,” I say as gently as I can, looking over her shoulder at Louise who is shaking her head.

  “Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?” Cami asks with a confused look on her face.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh!” She looks back at Louise and snorts. “She’s funny.”

  Louise rolls her eyes. “She is, but don’t tell her that, she gets a big head.”

  “I am,” I agree, still chuckling.

  Cami’s eyes light up and she claps her hands excitedly. “We need to celebrate tonight.”

  “I have a job interview tomorrow,” I tell her, trying to dampen the flames before they get out of control. She’s a live wire and I’m not sure I can handle her kind of celebration when I have important things to take care of.

  “What time?” Cami cocks her head to the side.

  “Two P.M.,” I sigh, knowing I’ve just sealed my own fate.

  “Plenty of time to have a few hours out on the town. I can get us on the guest list at The Roof Gardens.” She looks ov
er at Louise pleadingly.

  Louise is in, I can tell from her expression. “What do you think, Charlotte? That’s the club you've been dying to go to.” She puts her arm around Cami and pulls her in to her side.

  “I suppose a night out won’t hurt. Do you mind if I take a little nap first?” The pictures of the club online flash through my head and I wonder if I will be able to sleep at all.

  Louise narrows her eyes slightly. “You know that you should just push through and go to bed tonight.”

  “Yeah I know, but I haven't been sleeping well this last week. On the plane over, instead of going to sleep I watched three movies. I can't even remember the last time I watched one movie, let alone three.” I run a hand through my hair, tiredness evident as I slump my shoulders slightly.

  “Okay, I think we can let you have a short nap then.”

  “Thanks.” I roll my eyes. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Cami.” I smile weakly through the awkwardness and head straight down the hallway to the guest bedroom where we already left my luggage before our mandatory crêpe date.

  Stepping into the bedroom, I close the door behind me and sigh. I sounded so formal just then. I have to remember that I am in a social setting not a boardroom, something I find difficult at the best of times, but when I’m floored with so much new information, it’s hard not to click into my default state.

  The walls are thin and they are still just on the other side of the door, so I hear it clearly when Cami whispers to Louise, “Did she know you were into girls?”

  “She knows how I feel, love has no gender,” Louise murmurs and they both go silent.

  Kissing no doubt.

  Four

  Gin and tonic always tastes better in London, I think it’s like New York and its pizza. There is just something in the water that makes things taste better where they were meant to be served.

  The pictures online don’t do The Roof Gardens justice, next time we should have dinner here before we go dancing.