Side Trip(92)

She fists the material of her skirt. “Where is he?” she asks with more force.

“Joy . . .”

Her internal temperature spikes, prickling her skin. “Where is Dylan? Why isn’t he here?”

“He’s gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘He’s gone’?” Her hands start to shake. Her fingers turn ice-cold.

“He died three years ago in a plane crash. There weren’t any survivors.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He was on that American Air flight out of LAX.”

Joy shakes her head. That can’t be.

A loud roar fills her head. She hears Chase explain something about Dylan being at his wedding and having a change of heart about Joy. “He wasn’t going to waste any more time. He caught a flight home to New York to—”

“He was living in New York?” Joy cried.

“Yes.”

She presses her fingers to her lips, her eyes big. How many times had their paths crossed on the street? How many times had she left a restaurant before he showed?

Chase goes on to explain that Dylan was in a rush to get home to tell her that he loved her. He’d always loved her but had been too afraid to take the chance. And then she doesn’t hear anything at all.

“Excuse me.” She scoots from the booth so fast that she almost lands on her face, surprising them both. Chase is on his feet and tries to help, but she pushes him away. She dashes to the bathroom and braces herself on the sink. Her hands grip the porcelain edge, shoulders shaking, and she lets the tears fall.

She remembers the breaking news report during her and Mark’s argument. Dylan had been on that flight. He’d died the same day Mark learned of her betrayal and her marriage ended, and she hadn’t sensed anything. If only she’d been brave enough ten years ago to go after what she wanted: a career she was passionate about, a life in California, and a chance with Dylan. She would have spared herself years of heartache. And Dylan would still be alive.

If only she’d told him then. If only she could have a do-over.

Joy stops, realizing the dangerous direction her thoughts want to take her. Lifting her head, she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Red and swollen eyes stare back at her. Her cheeks are damp. Dylan’s death is a tragedy. She loves him and will miss him terribly. She will regret that they missed their chance to be together. But she can’t fall down the rabbit hole of what-ifs. She lived there for too many years and it isn’t a happy place. She needs to move on. She promised him she would. Life is waiting for her in Manhattan Beach.

Joy turns on the water and rinses her face. She blots it dry with a paper towel, steels herself, and returns to the booth. Chase still waits, his face turned to the window. The waitress brought him a coffee. It’s half-finished. He looks up at her when she sits down.

“You all right?” he asks gently.

“I will be.” She moves her purse from the table to the bench seat.

“You had no idea about him?”

She shakes her head. “We had a deal. No contact for ten years, so I rarely googled him. Seems kind of stupid in retrospect, but I was engaged, then married, and Dylan . . . Well, he had zero interest in settling down.”

The corner of Chase’s mouth quirks and Joy’s heart breaks a little more. He looks so much like Dylan.

“Sounds like him.”

“We were only supposed to meet here today if life didn’t go the way we thought it would. It wasn’t guaranteed we’d both be here. I hoped he would be, though.”

“He would have been here if he hadn’t tried to find you sooner.” Chase looks down at the notebook. He fans the corner. “I wish he was still alive. I wish he was the one sitting across from you.”

Joy’s mouth turns down. “Me too. How did you know I’d be here? Did Dylan tell you?”

Chase shakes his head. He opens Dylan’s notebook and flips it around for Joy to read. Written on the page in Dylan’s bold, choppy scrawl is a reminder.

Meet Joy at Rob’s Diner.

Ludlow, CA

8/5/2020 @ 1:36 p.m.

He’d circled the reminder several times and highlighted the date and time. It was important to him. He didn’t want to forget.

Joy traces a finger over the date—today’s date. She wonders what was going through Dylan’s head when he wrote this. She pictures him waiting to board his plane to London, hurriedly jotting the reminder because it wasn’t just the date that was important. She was important.

She remembers how much her heart hurt watching Dylan walk into the terminal. He took a part of her with him. She also remembers how ecstatic Mark was when she arrived at his apartment—their apartment—and the enthusiastic embrace he gave her. After Dylan, the apartment didn’t feel like home, and Mark’s arms around her didn’t feel right. So different from the man she’d just left.

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” Chase says. “I wasn’t sure I should come.”

“Why did you?”

It takes a moment for him to answer, and when he does, his tone is solemn. “If I’d made plans to meet someone ten years from when we met, someone I loved beyond reason, and she didn’t show, I’d want to know why.” He leans to his side and takes out his phone. He gestures at Joy’s phone. “Is your AirDrop set to everyone?”