Chapter 19

For the hell of it, I had someone bring me a copy of the paper on the day Natalie's article-- the expose she did on me-- came out. The black headlines were engrained into my mind the second I read them: Local Business Mogul Arrested. In big, bold, black, capital letters that used to stare back at me when I would gawk at them, trying to understand that it was me, that I had done this, that the entire city knew what was once my deepest, darkest, closest kept secret.

I kept it close to me while I was in jail, reading the article so many times that after a while I could practically recite the entire thing by memory. And verbatim.

I had to applaud Natalie for her talented writing, as disturbing as it was. At least, I thought to myself, my public fallout was written in pretty words, almost like prose. The two articles Natalie Griffin wrote on me were the closest she ever got to giving me a book of her own poetry.

They lay buried at the very bottom of an old, dusty box I had since stored away in a room I rarely went into. Since leaving Colorado two years ago I took a year-long trip around the States, stopping at all the best places in each of the fifty states until I found my way back in Seattle at the very end of my trip about a year ago. There I bought a nice apartment near the whereabouts of my previous address in Seattle and have since settled into a comfortable life where I want for nothing, with Halo still as my sole companion. I stumbled upon the articles while cleaning out that extra room so that my aunt and uncle, who were flying in from Colorado in about fifteen minutes, could sleep there for the duration of their stay.

I smiled to myself, blew the dust off of their tops, and read the headlines, so different in nature: one praising me and the other condemning me. I placed them back at the bottom of the box and shoved it into a corner in the room.

Despite the overbearing pearl-gray sky outside and the misty day Seattle was enjoying, the airport was busy and teeming easily with thousands of people. I was sitting in the lobby, just before the terminal, reading an article in Business Today while I waited for the announcement of a flight in from Aurora, Colorado. The last one announced was from San Diego, California.

Anytime I heard or thought of San Diego Natalie would come to the forefront of my mind. The image of her passed my imagination rather quickly and I went back to my article.

From the corner of my eye I saw a surge of people coming down the escalator to the first floor, where I sat. They were all just off the flight that had just landed, I knew. The loud clamor of voices and luggage bags rolling on the floors and heels clicking loudly like pen caps and babies crying and people in the lobby rising and sighing and saying their hellos soon followed.

I felt the curious sensation that I was being watched. You know the one I'm talking about? The side of my face went hot and felt as if it were being pricked by hundreds of tiny needle points. I clenched my jaw and passed a hand over my cheek, rubbing and kneading to rid myself of the pins-and-needles feeling.

Casually I checked my watch and saw that the time was 3:45 p.m. The plane from Colorado should be landing soon, I realized.

All the noise seemed to come to a swift crescendo and the entire lobby of the airport was writhing with the symphony of everyday life. For a moment it was hard to think, hard to concentrate, hard to retreat within myself and tear away from these strangers.

The crowd formed a little bubble and I watched as the people who were able to tear away from it came out with annoyed looks on their faces. From the tight circle I could see at the middle of these strangers it was clear that someone or something was halting traffic, and people were finding ways around it, annoyed that they were forced to move and take a different route. I chuckled to myself and went back to the magazine.

I barely had my eyes on the words when I heard the name.

"Natalie!"

My entire body stiffened for a moment, as if I had just been paralyzed and left without any ability whatsoever to move. My body melded to the plastic chair I was sitting in and held me fast. Then, as if a spell had been broken, my body went limp and I was able to move again. Very slowly I lifted my head and looked up; she was the first thing my eyes settled on.

It was Natalie. My Natalie. Natalie Griffin.

I would have noticed her anywhere, and that was a fact I always had been painfully aware of.

She was looking away from me, clutching her bag behind her as if for dear life. From the front of the airport I saw her friend Belle, waving an arm in the air. She was the one who called her name. Natalie turned toward me less than a second later and when we locked eyes it was clear to me that she saw me long before I saw her.

Every part of me ached with the echo of feelings that I thought had long ago been squandered. For some reason, Walter Pater's words came to my mind, echoing off the edges of my brain, growing louder, louder, louder:

"To burn always with this hard, gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."

Oh, I was burning, alright.

Seven years passed since I saw her in person last and still I was responding to her. Just laying my eyes on her was all it took for me to remember exactly why I fell for her in the first place.

She looked like a deer in headlights, her eyes round and wide, her lips slightly parted as she assessed me. Still she clutched onto her baggage like it would save her as long as she had it in her hands. She was long and colorful; in fact, she brightened up the entire room in her blue peacoat and light jeans.

At first I thought I had fallen asleep and I was dreaming. Then I thought I was hallucinating. Then I thought I was seeing a ghost. I blinked but kept my eyes on her. When she didn't disappear I knew that she was standing in front of me, looking back at me with an expression that was a blend of both fear and shock.

Then she was being pulled away. Belle wrapped a hand around Natalie's elbow and was pushing her towards the front of the airport where they could both go home. Belle was chattering words Natalie wasn't hearing, and Belle noticed neither me nor the fact that Natalie's attention was on me.

Even while she was being wrenched away from the spot she was stuck to, Natalie did not look away. The entire world was moving in slow motion, the way I remembered so well it used to do whenever I was around Natalie. The curious look on her face was like she was waiting for something but also like she wanted to do something, to say something, but couldn't. Of their own accord I felt the edges of my mouth rise up in a crooked, genial smile. I could almost feel the way my eyes were glistening. If I wasn't watching her closely I would have missed her reaction; her whole body slumped for a split second and her eyes widened ever so slightly. I broke our contact by looking back at my magazine, well aware that I wasn't going to comprehend a word of what I was reading.

Seconds passed and I decided to look at her again, just to make sure that Natalie was actually in this airport, and that Natalie had actually been standing right in front of me, and that Natalie and I had looked at and acknowledged each other for however long our indirect contact had lasted. When I looked up, though, she was gone. I felt a slight surge of panic run through me, coursing swiftly through my veins, making my joints go weak. But then I saw her, standing at the front of the airport, waiting in line to get outside the doors.

Unexpectedly, she turned her head over her shoulder in a quick graceful motion and sneaked a peek at me, her long, black eyelashes grazing the tops of her high, pink cheekbones. My heart swelled and then fell through my stomach.

She left seconds after that and she remained in my head for months afterward. There was no escaping the fact that something that day happened between us, without even the need for words or embraces or anything at all but one look. What happened in that airport between Natalie and me was all the closure we needed.

What happened in that airport was that Natalie and I forgave each other.


Author's Note: Well, that's where Ben's story ends. I hope all of you enjoyed it! I know I had a ton of fun writing it. Garganutan thanks to all who reviewed and read!

Cross-Reference: Ambushed! Chapter 23.