You Were Better When I Was Gone Chapter 03
My 4 a.m. alarm went off three times before I finally dragged myself out of bed.
When I rolled my suitcase into the hallway, it was still dark. The air in the corridor was cold and still.
The elevator doors slid open. Sophie was inside.
She wore a pink hoodie, hair in a messy bun, no makeup, dark smudges under her eyes.
“Thought you’d try to sneak out through the fire escape.” She grinned and grabbed my suitcase. “Come on, Luke’s waiting downstairs.”
I looked at her. “I told you not to come.”
“Oh, stop.” She hooked her arm through mine and pulled me forward. “You’re leaving, who knows when you’ll be back. Just let us see you off, okay?”
Downstairs, Luke’s car sat under a streetlamp, engine humming.
He got out, loaded my suitcase into the trunk without a word, and slid back behind the wheel.
The ride was quiet.
Sophie sat in the passenger seat. I sat in back.
After ten minutes, she twisted around to look at me. “Sarah, make sure you eat properly over there. Your stomach’s always been weak.”
“Mm.”
“And don’t work too hard. You get stressed so easily, you’ll just lie awake all night.”
“Got it.”
“If you miss me, video-call anytime. Time difference is what, eight hours? When you’re asleep, I’m just getting off work.”
“Sophie.” Luke cut in. “Let her breathe.”
Sophie stuck out her tongue and turned back around.
In the rearview mirror, Luke’s eyes met mine for half a second. I looked away, watching the streetlights blur past the window.
At the airport, Luke pushed the cart while Sophie clung to my arm.
Just like always, three of us together. Except this time, I was in the middle, not on the edge. Because this was the last time.
At the check-in counter, I got my boarding pass.
Sophie pulled me into a hug, tight, her face pressed into my shoulder. “You big idiot, Sarah.” Her voice came out muffled. “Who’s going to go shopping with me when you’re gone?”
I patted her back. “You have Luke.”
She pulled away, dabbed at her eyes, then glanced at Luke like she was signaling him.
Luke stood a few feet away, something clutched in his hand.
He walked over and handed me a brown paper bag. “Snacks for the flight. And” He hesitated. “Text me when you land.”
I took the bag and nodded. Then I turned and walked toward security.
“Sarah.” His voice came from behind.
I stopped but didn’t turn.
“If it doesn’t work out over there, you can always come back.”
There was uncertainty in his voice. A hint of panic. Just a hint. Because he was sure I’d come back. He was sure I couldn’t make it without them.
Eight years, and he’d always been sure.
I didn’t answer. I pulled my suitcase into the security line.
The line was long. I looked back once.
In the distance, I saw Sophie chatting animatedly at Luke, gesturing with her hands. Luke was looking at his phone, typing something.
They didn’t look heartbroken. They looked like they’d just sent someone to the grocery store, easy, casual.
I turned around. Gate B12.
I found my seat and opened the paper bag. A sandwich. A bottle of water. A pack of mints. At the bottom, a Post-it note.
Sophie’s round, loopy handwriting: “Dummy, the world out there is scary, I bet you won’t last long before you miss us. Then me and Luke will come pick you up and take you home!”
I stared at the word Dummy for a long time. My throat tightened, but I swallowed it down.
As the plane taxied, I tore the note in half and stuffed it into the airsickness bag.
Twelve hours later, I landed at Heathrow.
I turned on my phone. Thirty-seven messages, mostly Sophie’s emojis and voice notes.
Luke had sent one: “Text when you land.”
I typed back two words: “Landed.”
Then I exited the chat.
My friend Emma was waiting at the arrivals gate, holding a cardboard sign with a terribly drawn stick figure on it.
“Welcome to your new life, Ms. Sarah.”
I wheeled my suitcase toward her. The London wind was damp and cold, it cut through my jacket like I wasn’t wearing one. I took a deep breath anyway.
Nobody here would call me Dummy.