The Book of Names.

It’s always the same. Sitting here, waiting for my plane to board, I mentally check that I have everything on me. Phone, wallet, passport – check. I slip my hand into the inside pocket of my trench-coat, feeling the bulging envelope stacked with two hundred $100 bills. I sit back and close my eyes, breathing deeply. The airport is basically empty, I always fly the latest flight possible. I hate crowded places.

I hated going out with him. He would always take me to the busiest spots, tourist attractions if you will. He would be so comfortable there, amongst the masses. And after a while, I got comfortable too. Being with him, in places that usually make my breathing heavy and top lip sweaty. With him though, it was like everything stopped. The noises, the groups of people swarming around us – it all froze.

My eyes snap open. I can’t let myself think about him, not anymore. I slightly adjust the short blonde wig that is hiding my dark curls underneath. God, these wigs make my head itch so badly. I check the time, only a few more hours until I am on that plane. Time can be such a dangerous thing. Most of the time, when you are happiest you’ll feel like there’s never enough, or it goes too quickly. But, when you are trying to forget something or someone, too much time can be your worst enemy.

I can feel his hand on my shoulder, we had just met and his hands where surprisingly soft and warm. I can remember him saying how it was his lucky day meeting me. Of course, luck had nothing to do with it. It was completely planned. I had known where he’d be and when, what he likes, what he dislikes. How to engage in conversation that will interest him. In fact, it was the complete opposite of luck. Planned destiny, is what it’s called. It had not been planned that I would actually start to fall in love. And it was the beginning of the end of everything.

I stared blankly out the window into the darkness. Blurry, red lights from the air traffic controllers swirled in front of my eyes. I could feel the pricking of hot tears forming, this had become a familiar sensation to me. I checked my make-up in my compact, deep red lips and fierce winged eyeliner still intact. My ‘Pretty Woman’ hooker wig sat perfectly on-top my head. To all the other passengers waiting for their flight, I just looked like another rich lady waiting to fly off somewhere exotic. I suppose, right now, that was true. That, or I looked like an escort, I wasn’t sure which one was more suited.

I had to find a way to forget about him. I wasn’t in the business of falling in love. And I had never had this problem with any of my other clients before, so why him? Maybe it was because, unlike the others before him, he was gentle. His money and power didn’t control him. It wasn’t used as a tool to manipulate and hurt people. He was generous and he only wanted to help others. He was so unlike me, or who I have become. And being with him brought out so much goodness in me, it scared me. He scared me, because he made me want another life. A life I know I’ll never have. A life I willingly gave up.

I felt it again, the stinging in my eyes. I looked up to try and stop the tears but one made it free from my lashes and rolled down my face. If this were a movie, the camera would have followed it all the way to my chin before cutting away to a shot of it splashing on the ground. Instead, my phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me back into reality.

A new message, from a private number. I let out my breath, that I didn’t even know I was holding before unlocking my phone. As always, it was just a name. This time, David Johnstone. Before this name, had been his. Adam Harvey. I rolled the name around my mouth, how easy it had been to say only a few days ago. How quickly you can lose yourself in another person. But not this time.

I pulled out my notepad. A little black, leather-bound book that was worn around the edges. I never let this book out of my sight. It has my life in it, written down as different men’s names.

I opened it up to the most recent page, I hadn’t opened since I met him. I didn’t realise it would be this hard. Slowly, I drew a line through his name. It started to run as my tears splashed onto the page. Out of the hundreds of names I had written down and crossed out, none had made me cry before.

I wrote down the new name as the message in my phone had already been removed, traceless contact was always the most important rule.

My gate number boomed throughout the airport, as the small number of passengers started to board. I wasn’t sure what this meant for me, the feelings I had. All I knew was I couldn’t stop what I was doing even if I wanted too.

I let my hand slip into my jacket to touch the envelope filled with $20,000 once more. No one except for Adam and I knew about it. He had given it to me, to try to help. I wasn’t sure if it would, but having it close to me made me feel like he was close to me too.

I checked my make-up one last time before carefully putting away my little black book. I stood up, catching my reflection in the window. I was tall, slim and dressed in over-the-knee boots and a black mini dress. I wrapped my leopard print trench-coat closed as I walked towards my gate.

And this is how it always was for me. It’s always the same, from beginning to end.