Lane chucked the bottle and watched the Thames absolve the shame carried inside. Now she just had to think. Think hard. Act normal. “You’re an awful person Lane. You’re a liar if you don’t tell him... it will kill you if you keep this hidden.... how will you live with yourself???” There wasn’t time to think. She jumped on the Barclays rental bike and parked it at Baron’s Court station, right by the butcher shop Laura loved. Fifteen minutes late as always, Lane jumped on the District Line to Heathrow airport and tried to catch her breath. The Guardian was a nice distraction flooded with recent reports about George Clooney getting married, Germany winning the World Cup, Scotland was thinking about independence, and two Malaysian airliners fell out of the sky. Still, nothing was working.
Mind racing, heart pounding and she ached for Sean. It had been almost two months since they’d seen each other and staying connected emotionally was a shit show. Sure, the movie was her big break right?! “You asked for this Lane! Your goal board had “work on a film” so here you go...Bradley Cooper on a plate...dammit Lane....always have to get attention huh? Be better than others and prove something right? Why couldn’t you just stay home and be content working at MAC on 5th Ave?” Lost in her thoughts, Lane almost missed Terminal Five. The creepy guy trying to make eye contact the whole ride gave Lane a smirk. He totally had British teeth. Gave her the creeps. “Mind the gap” was always more polite sounding than “ya’ll get off here cuz we got a sitchuation on the L train!” like in New York. The English liked to follow rules and the American in Lane got annoyed by the stifling cultural difference sometimes; not to mention they threw cream on every damn dessert.
The arrivals were running late from Cape Town. Shit. Sean had booked a charity project for an organization his friends ran offering to take pictures in exchange for paid expenses. There was no money to come to London to visit Lane but Sean somehow found the money to buy flights to fucking South Africa. He didn’t have any paid work in August back in New York. What the hell did he do the whole month? Oh yeah, he worked on a drawing. A sea monster. Personal projects always seemed to come first, unfortunately. Being married to a freelancer had it’s perks and downfalls. It was like he just didn’t get it. “I needed him. I needed my husband…” Lane fought back tears as she waited right outside the terminal exit watching loved ones rush to each other. Why wasn’t his plane here? It’s two hours late….what if I missed him? Fuck. I missed him and he doesn’t have a cell phone. We’re gonna pass like ships in the night. “Baby love!” someone shouted in the distance. Sean was walking, then running towards Lane. They embraced and Lane wept. It was the first time in two months she knew it was the end of them and this trip would be their last, so she couldn’t stop the tears...