× Mercury

"It isn't every day one of the greatest soccer players gets married."

Sitting on the couch with a Ben and Jerry's ice cream tub in my hands, I watched as E! covered the news of a wedding I was all too familiar with. A reporter was across the street from the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, red velour ropes blocking off the sidewalk with people dressed in nice attire entering the building.

"Niall Horan was well known back in his college days when he played for the London Lions," the reporter continued. "But even after he was kicked off his team from a scandalous affair, he had found his way back into the game and has been playing for the Republic of Ireland in Dublin for nearly five years now."

I shoved a giant spoonful of ice cream in my mouth as the TV switched to some plays of Niall on his Dublin team.

"Now he's getting married!" the reported exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. "Niall met Elise Bouvier in Dublin three years ago at a bar after one of his home games. Elise is a twenty-seven psychologist graduate and at this very moment, she's in this hotel with her wedding dress on, only hours away from the big event. The wedding is taking place in Los Angeles because Elise has family as well as many friends of Niall's living in the area."

I knew I shouldn't have been torturing myself with this, but I couldn't help it. Two days ago I was oblivious to the news, and now I couldn't stop myself from feeding into the spiral my life had become.

"The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel is filled with the most popular soccer players for the wedding. Matt Reid from the Arsenal Football Club is one of Niall's groom's men as well as his teammate, Robbie Anderson. Going as his best man is Jace Layton, player for our very own LA Galaxy."

Right then, my laptop made a noise, making me jump out of my skin. Quickly, I scrambled to run into the bedroom and grab my computer from the bed to see that my brother was video calling me.

I pressed the answer button and came face-to-face with a smiling Anders.

"Hey, Bro," I said as cheerfully as I could.

"You trashed my house yet?"

"Absolutely. You missed the biggest party of the century last night," I teased. "By the way, you're going to need to buy a new TV."

Anders laughed, and it was a sound that I missed the most since my travels. "I'll make sure to put it on your tab," he grinned. "I had some free time and thought I'd see if you were available."

"I'm always available for you," I smiled and took a seat on the chair in the dining room.

Anders sat on his bed, large, glass French doors behind me showing a dark sky lit up of the city lights. I remember going to Italy and falling in love with the old architecture, thinking about all the history I was standing on as I walked through the old city.

"You look exhausted," I noted.

"I am exhausted. I thought it was hard work at training camp, but teaching everything I know to kids half my age is draining."

"Half your age? You make it seem like you're old."

Anders made a face. "I am old! Wait until you're thirty-one and you'll know what I mean. I grunt every time I bend down and I can hear joints popping every time I get out of bed."

Anders looked the same as he did when I last saw him, only this time he had shaved and I could see his face as I remember it when I was a teenager. His dark brown hair had gotten longer since he was in the air force, having it down over his forehead and pushed to the side. His brown eyes seemed brighter now, too. It was draining being in the air force, and even though he was still in that atmosphere with teaching aviation, at least he wasn't in the field anymore.

"How's Florence?" I asked.

"Beautiful! The city reminds me of Dad," he said. "You remember the story he would always tell us?"

"About when he went to Florence for school and ended up saving a little boy from falling in the Arno River? How could I forget? He told it to everyone he met. I could recite the story in my sleep."

Anders smiled and my heart swelled.

Family meant a lot to me, and it was one of the downsides for traveling the world. I always talked to my brother, Grandma, Jamie, and my other friends through Face-time, but it wasn't the same. I missed them all and seeing them again hurt knowing I would be leaving again. If I could find some other way to get payed with photography and actually make a good prophet, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I've seen everything I had on my bucket list; I was ready to stay in one place. Hopefully Dublin was everything I was looking for.

What I told Niall earlier that morning when I said that I might have changed my mind on what I wanted in life, I wasn't lying. It might not have occurred to me before that, but the moment the words left my mouth, I knew it was true.

I was ready. I was ready to settle down.

"But enough about me," Anders interrupted my thoughts. "I couldn't help but notice what was on the TV behind you..."

Looking over my shoulder, I peered passed the couch I was sitting on moments ago at the TV that was still talking about the wedding. I didn't pay much attention to what the reporter was talking about, but the screen flashed paparazzi pictures of Niall and his fiancée. One was of the two of them exiting a bar and another one was of them getting into a cab. Another was them sitting at the stands watching a soccer game.

This time, my heart hurt for a different reason.

Involuntarily, my mind went back six years ago to when Niall took me to a soccer game. Despite everything that was going on at the time, he had made me happy. And knowing he was sharing the same memory with someone else cut right through me.

"Lynn," Anders said, waving his hand in front of his camera like it would get my attention.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I was just... I was channel surfing and this is what I landed on when you called me."

Anders always had a way to see right through me. Ever since we were little, he could tell when I was lying. Like when I ate his push-up from the freezer when I was seven-years-old and flat-out denied it, he knew I was lying. And then the time when I told him that I didn't have any feelings for Niall, Anders knew better.

"It hurts," I finally admitted, my voice breaking. "It hurts to see this."

"You should turn it off, Lynn," Anders advised.

I looked over my shoulder and at the TV again. Every time I looked at it, there was a twist in my gut. I had told Niall that I was leaving for Dublin tomorrow in hopes that... I wasn't even sure. That he would run after me, I guess. But I should have known better than to believe he would actually do that.

Even though it was painful, I didn't have the heart to shut it off.

"Lynn, look at me," my brother said, making me turn to face him. He stared at me long and hard and that was when I knew I made a mistake. "Something happened."

It wasn't a question. Like I said, Anders had a way to look right through me.

"I saw him last night," I whispered. "At a bar. And we..."

"Lynn."

"I didn't want it to happen. But we started talking and things just- it just got out of hand quick. Memories stirred up inside me and I couldn't help myself. Old habits took over and-"

"You don't have to justify yourself to me, Lynn," Anders interrupted.

I pulled the sleeve of my shirt over my hand and wiped under my eye, the tear that had started to fall disappearing. Shedding tears over this was useless. While I was here crying, Niall was out there getting married. If that wasn't enough of a sign to get over it, I didn't know what was.

"I told him that I was happy for him," I said softly, avoiding Anders' gaze. "But that was a lie. I'm not happy for him. I hate that he fell in love with a girl and saw a future with her. I know this makes me seem like a terrible person-"

"Lynn, you're not a terrible person," Anders interrupted again.

I just shook my head. "I'm bitter and jealous and selfish and I really shouldn't be. I hate it. I hate hearing about it and I hate thinking about it. I just..." I paused, taking a break to catch my breath. "And then I did something I wasn't supposed to do. I told him that even though it's been six years, I was still in love with him." I looked up at my brother. "You know what he said then?"

"What?"

"That he still loved me, too," I whispered, my voice breaking. "And he's still getting married to her."

I had every desire to hate the girl he was marring. But I didn't. It wasn't her fault that my heart had shattered. But I couldn't help but wonder. Has my name been brought up in conversation? Maybe it hasn't. Maybe I'm completely something of the past that has been forgotten until last night. Or maybe Niall has mentioned me. Did this girl know everything we've been through? Was she jealous? Did she feel like she was competing? I hope for the sake of her sanity none of those were true.

No, I didn't hate the girl. I hated myself. I hated that I didn't see it sooner. I had to travel around the world to finally see what I had always wanted. And to think I had it when I was only twenty years old and gave it up because of something I couldn't see in the future until six years later when it was too late.

I've made a lot of mistakes when I was younger, but nothing - nothing - would ever top that.

"I told him that I had changed my mind," I said quietly.

"Changed your mind about what?"

"That I was ready to get married. And have kids..." I paused, thinking back on the last twelve hours of my life and how fucked up it had gotten. "I'm not even sure I meant it, but I'm willing to figure it out with him."

Anders didn't say anything. At that point in my life, I would have found this weird to talk to my brother about. Boy stuff was never something you'd go to a brother about. But he saw the two of us together, when he came to visit, when we video chatted at the cabin... he saw. He saw how good we were together and Anders was the only one I could confide in and not tell me to get over myself.

I laughed. "Maybe this is for the best. We weren't very good together..."

"You're joking right?" Anders accused with a rise of a brow. "Don't get me wrong, you two were fucked up from what I heard, but that makes you compatible. You both have acknowledged the bad in each other and you're growing from that. That's how healthy relationships work, Lynn."

"Maybe, but-"

"Let me tell you something Dad said to me once," Anders interrupted. "I know you think of our parents as the perfect couple - hardly fighting, always compassionate, never putting each other down, blah blah blah. But apparently that's not true. They were a lot like you and Niall in college."

"I highly doubt that."

"You doubt it because you never saw it. And neither did I, but it makes sense. Dad told me that their relationship with each other was pretty messed up from the beginning, I won't get into detail of what he said but believe me when I say that it was pretty toxic. But look how they turned out! They have fights, but they knew how to handle them and work through it. I know this is too late and probably a little cruel to tell you this now but, you and Niall? Completely attuned and well-matched."

Well-matched. That was a term I knew very well, and I believed him. Starting on the soccer field, Niall and I were very well-matched, to the point where Niall was threatened that I would steal his limelight and not want me on the team. And then off the field I saw it, too. We challenged each other in everything we did.

"It was real," I whispered.

From the outside, the answer to whether I should move on seemed so simple - I mean, he's getting married. Niall moving on was a powerful sign that it was time for me to give up the ghost and start the process of getting over them, too. Plotting to get them to dump their new flame in favor of restarting a relationship with me was petty, and well... not usually successful. So was allowing myself to hold onto the fantasy that one day he's going to leave his wife and realize how much he wanted me.

I had always thought I was over him; I didn't think about him every day like I used to. I've slept around, but they never resulted into anything. I was traveling the world, no time to sit down and chat over a meal in hopes a spark might flame. But the only person who was able to light a fire inside me was the one person I had to get over.

I didn't know if getting over him was an option anymore.

× × ×

As I sat there at the airport, next to an electrical outlet in gate A5, waiting for my flight to Ireland, I realized how much I loved airports. There was always something about them that got me so excited. Any time someone would say "airport", my mind would flash images of me with my mother, luggage in hand, walking across the vast Los Angeles International Airport.

Maybe it was the thought of traveling somewhere that got me excited. More specifically, perhaps it was the thought of visiting a completely new place, away from my mundane life at home, that made my heart race.

For me, the airport was an escape. I liked that I would be immersed in a completely different setting than what I was used to and would be experiencing things I hadn't before. Even though the new experiences wouldn't occur until I got to my destination, being at the airport, waiting for it to happen, was a big enough thrill for me.

Airports are also a place of emotion. I enjoyed people-watching to pass the time. I see joyful reunions, of college students coming back for the first time in months to their parents, of husbands returning to wives, and in-laws meeting the family for the first time. I see tearful separations, of wives bidding farewell to their armed force husbands, of siblings leaving to start their own families, and of overprotective parents once again saying goodbye to their children leaving for school. When someone leaves, the feeling of separation garners the truest of emotions.

"Are you alright, dear?" an older lady beside me asked.

I wasn't sure what I was doing to make her ask that, but I just nodded my head anyways.

My phone kept going off, text messages from Jamie and Jace telling me to have a safe flight and have tons of fun in Dublin. A picture message from Grandma of her holding a white cat she had gotten a few years ago to "make the house feel less empty". The caption of the image said that they missed me already. A missed phone call from Coach Sharp, and a social media notification.

The notification was from the twitter account of a local news station I had followed. Being away from home so much, I wanted to keep up with current events in the city.

Clicking on the notification, I was brought to a tweet that was linked to a news article. I didn't need to read it to understand what it said. The headline wrote, "Only minutes away before the wedding of the year!".

I quickly clicked out of it and locked my phone, not wanting any more reminders of what was happening at that very moment only a few miles away.

"Where are you heading?" the woman asked.

"Ireland," I said shortly.

"Oh my," she said. Her voice was scratchy and slightly low, I noticed. "That's far away for someone your age to go alone."

I just laughed. "I've been further."

The old lady was a small, dark-complexioned woman with pretty silver curls and pink cheeks, as every grandmother should have. A cane was propped up against her suitcases and a large knitted messenger bag around her shoulder. She had an exceedingly bright expression with wrinkles on her forehead and around her mouth and eyes.

That was when I noticed that the old woman was blind.

"Have you?" she asked, oblivious to my sudden surprise. "Where all have you been?"

I didn't answer her right away, a little taken aback by her appearance. It wasn't that she was blind that took me off guard; it was that she easily found things in me that would be impossible to know if she couldn't see.

"Uh, I'm sorry," I said, ignoring her question. "How- how did you know I was young?"

The woman laughed and it was a nimble sound that could easily light up the whole airport. "I've been blind nearly my whole life," she said. "I picked up things in the short time sitting next to you. Like you haven't said a word, so I assumed you were alone. And you smell like peppermint which gives off a younger sense, if you know what I mean." Then she paused for a moment, like she doubted herself. "Am I wrong to think this?"

"No, no," I said, a small smile on my lips. "I mean, I'm twenty-six so it depends on what you view as 'young'."

"Oh, darling. When you get to be my age, everyone is young."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued by her. Knowing she was blind, I noticed the little things she did. Like looking in the direction of every single sound, the small tick tick of her tongue against the back of her teeth, and her fingers continuously rubbing up and down the length of her skirt.

"I also noticed your breathing pattern was rather irregular," the lady said. "That was why I assumed something was wrong. Was I mistaken about that?"

I hung my head. "No, you're not."

It was nearing four in the afternoon and my flight should be here in the next half hour. Every time someone walks by, my head would instantly shoot up to see who it was, in hopes that maybe Niall did come for me. But every time I was left disappointed.

Niall made it clear that he wouldn't be running after me. He'll leave that to the cheesy romance movies.

"This isn't the end," she said, interrupting my thoughts. "You're young; someone even lovelier will enter your life that you will spend eternity with."

I chuckled. "Did I give off some kind of sign that told you I was having boy trouble?"

"No," she smiled. "I just took a guess."

I wasn't sure what possessed me, but I ended up telling this old blind lady everything. I didn't know her name, didn't know why she was at the airport, but I didn't leave anything out when I told her the story. Starting from the first day I met Niall Horan.

She sat and listened the whole time, staring straight ahead at absolutely nothing. It was nice to tell the story from the beginning to someone I didn't know. Maybe because I knew I wouldn't see her ever again so I didn't hold back, or maybe it was because behind those glossed over eyes, I knew held a world of wisdom.

"Sounds like a tale for the ages," she said when I was finished.

"Not exactly a fairy tale ending," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that? It sounds to me like the story hasn't ended," she alleged. "Surly this can't be the conclusion, at an airport as you talk to a crazy old lady? You seem like a dreamer, surly you believe in fate."

I bit my lip, remembering the conversation I had with Niall about that topic. "I believe everything happens for a reason."

"Your king is going to walk into your life," she finished. "You just need to give it time."

Right then, my flight number was called through the intercom, making me jump. I blinked a couple of times, remembering that I was in an airport waiting for my flight.

"That's you, dear."

I stood up and grabbed the handle of my suitcase and carry on bag. I stood there for a few moments, thinking about what she had said. Niall may have been a king, but I wasn't his queen. Everything happens for a reason and I knew that this wasn't the end of my story. Not even close.

"Thank you," I said, turning to the old lady. "For every-"

I stopped mid-sentence because I was looking at an empty chair. Looking around the area, I didn't see her anywhere in sight. There was no way she could move that fast, not for how old she was and for the reason that she was blind.

Was I losing my mind?

Walking down the terminal toward gate A5, I ignored the possibility that I might be crazy and told myself that I would think more about the weird experience when I was on the plane to pass the time.

As I walked, my feet dragged. Traveling was something that I loved, something I enjoyed and did for a freelance career. But as I trudged across the floor, I couldn't help that I was leaving for another reason.

I was running away.

This was my only way of escape from another heartache, being as far away from Niall Horan will ease it away with time. At least that was what I was hoping for. It did the last time.

I loved running, but never in my life had I hated running so much.

Just as I was about to get in line for security, a baritone voice I knew all too well spoke behind me, and it reverberated through my bones and brought me back to times that I thought I would never get back.

"Lynn Mercury."