My heart stopped beating. My stomach lurched. I think I swayed in my seat.
Marianna's voice echoed through the phone. "Carter? Can you please tell me what's going on?"
I shook my head. "I'll call you as soon as I can," I spoke quietly. "I need to go…"
I stood up. "He's leaving for Argentina. That's where he's going. He's not going away to think. He's going to let that butcher operate on his eyes."
Rani picked up my keys from my desk and pushed them into my chest. "Go!" she said. "You need to go."
"I um, I don't even know what flight…"
"It doesn't matter, you just need to get your ass to Logan International Airport, now. I'll call the terminal and see which airlines are going to Argentina today. I'll call you, but you need to leave right now."
I pulled the Jeep out into traffic, with one hand on the wheel, one hand with the phone to my ear.
"Carter?"
"Yeah, Hannah, look. I don't want you to panic, but I'm on my way to the airport."
Her reply was quiet. "What do you mean, 'don't panic, I'm going to the airport'?" Then she got louder. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Trying to drive a stick shift and talk on the phone was proving a pain. I almost dropped the phone. "Hannah, I think Isaac's going to Argentina."
There was only silence, followed by a very quiet, "What?"
I explained the voicemail from Isaac, then the phone call to Marianna and Hannah sobbed. "Oh, my God."
"I don't even know where I'm going. I'm just going to the airport to see if I can find him," I told her, just as my phone beeped with another incoming call. "This could be Isaac, I have to go."
"Oh, Carter, hurry," Hannah said quickly. It sounded like she said, "I'll meet you there," before she clicked off the call, but I couldn't be sure.
"Hello?" I said, answering the incoming call.
"Carter? This is Detective Zinberg."
I stuck the phone between my ear and my shoulder and changed gears. "Yeah?"
"Are you driving?" he said. "Because I can call back."
"No!" I cried. "I mean, yes, I'm driving, but no, don't call me back. I'm glad you called actually."
He seemed to ignore me, because he acted like I hadn't spoken. "We've looked into Joshua Lindstrom, and while there's nothing definitive on him yet, but with the so-called ophthalmologist in Buenos Aires, we've handed the case over to the FBI. It looks like he's been preying on blind people for years. We've spoken to a few people from all over the country. This is not an isolated incident."
"That's great, Detective," I said, probably a little too rudely. "I need you to do me a favor." I didn't wait for him to ask. "I need you to stop a flight to Buenos Aires. I'm on my way to the airport right now. Isaac's getting on a plane."
"Shit," the detective said.
"I don't even know what flight it is yet," I told him. "Can you call them and get them to hold the plane?"
"I can't. This isn't the movies, Dr Reece."
"Then call Isaac, you can do that, can't you? He'll believe it if it comes from you. Tell him what you know. Tell him not to get on that plane."
The detective grumbled something that sounded like an agreement, so I ended the call. "Shit, shit, shit," I swore to no one in particular, threw my cell onto the passenger seat beside me, changed gears and put my foot down.
Just as I got to the airport, my phone rang again. It was Rani. I answered her call, and all she said was, "Gate six. Next flight to Buenos Aires is at one-thirty, the next one's not until four. It has to be this flight, Carter. You've got fifteen minutes."
Fuck.
I had to park a fucking mile from the terminal, ran through the parking lot and then I raced through the terminal like a fucking madman, looking for Gate six.
I noticed on the screens as I ran, that the flight to Buenos Aires was flashing 'final boarding call’, and I ran through the lounge, up to the counter, startling the lady behind the computer. "The one-thirty flight to Argentina. I need to be on it."
"Oh," she said, with her hand to her heart.
"I know I'm late," I said, out of breath. I pulled out my wallet and handed over credit cards, telling her, "I don't care what it costs, I don't care where I sit, I just need to be on that plane."
She punched into the keyboard. "Final boarding call has been made," she said like I should care. "We only have one seat that might be available, sir. It's in business class."
"I'll take it."
"Well, the seat is technically taken," she said, typing into the computer. "But that person might not be taking it yet, sir," she said, just as it dawned on me, I didn't even have my passport.
Then she looked past me, around the terminal until she found who she was after. "Excuse me, sir?" she called out. She double-checked her screen. "Mr Brannigan?"
I spun on my heel.
And there he was. There they were.
Isaac and Brady.
My shoulders sagged, and I finally breathed in God-knows-how-long. I collected my belongings off the counter, and looked at the sales attendant. "Never mind."
Brady was pleased to see me, but it seemed Isaac was a million miles away. He was holding his cell phone, turning it over in his hand.
"Hey?" I said softly.
Isaac's head jerked up toward the sound of my voice. "Carter?"
I knelt in front of him, and rested my hands on his knees. "You scared me."
His reply was just a whisper. "I'm sorry…"
"Mr Brannigan," the sales attendant said beside us. "Final boarding call. If you're going to take the seat, you need to board now."
He shook his head. "No, thank you."
She hesitated, looking at me, then back to Isaac. "Our cancellation policy won't allow a refund—"
"I don't care," Isaac said softly. "It doesn't matter." The attendant stood there for a moment, then was gone. I didn't watch her leave.
I took Isaac's hand. "You're not leaving?"
He held up his cell phone. "Detective Zinberg called me… He said it was all some elaborate scam. He said you told him to stop me."
I sighed. "Isaac, I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "There wasn't any point in me going anyway." His voice was quiet. He looked… devastated.
"Isaac—"
"You were right. I was foolish to think he could fix me."
"You don't need fixing, Isaac. You never did."
He shrugged. "It wouldn't have mattered, even if he could have fixed me. There's no point in having eyesight if the reason for me wanting to get my vision back isn't in my life."
Oh, Isaac.
"You, Carter, I wanted to do it for you," Isaac whispered, his bottom lip trembled. "Of all the things I want to see the most, in all of my life, is you. I wanted my sight back so I could see you."
"You do see me."
He shook his head and spoke to his hands in his lap. "I'll never be able to see you."
I took his other hand, holding both his in mine. "You do see me. No one has ever seen me like you do." I lifted his hands to my face. "You know me, you see me, like no one else."
"Not through these eyes."
"No," I agreed quietly. "You see me with your heart."
He pulled his sunglasses off and threw them on the seat beside him, and then he started to cry. I slid my hand around his neck and pulled his face into my neck.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed, his hands fisted into my shirt. "I'm so sorry for everything."
I wanted to tell him it'd be okay, but the truth was I didn't know if it would be. But he was hurting, and it killed me. "Oh, Isaac."
He sobbed into my neck. "I have no one left. I've finally pushed everyone away." He cried harder. "I ruined everything. I always do. I spent so long trying to be something I'm not. I wanted to be perfect for you, that's all I wanted. I wanted to be perfect for you."
"But you are perfect."
"No, I'm not," he said, shaking his head. "I'll never be perfect."
"You're perfect for me."
He pulled back from me and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Why are you here, at the airport? Why did you come?"
"I couldn't let you get on that plane. I didn't know what would happen to you once you got there. But the plane was ready to leave, so I was trying to buy a ticket."
"You'd have come to get me?"
"Yes."
He shook his head again, disbelievingly, and fresh tears fell down his face. "Why would you do that? I've been horrible to you. I said such horrible things."
"Yes, you did," I told him. I shifted on my knees, resting back on my haunches. "And I can't lie, Isaac. What you said about why Paul cheated on me, hurt me very much."
He nodded, and his face contorted as though in physical pain. "I know. God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said. You were never suffocating, you were always wonderful. You've always been so good to me, and I was so horrible to you and Paul was a jerk."
"Well, maybe I was a little suffocating," I conceded.
He shook his head vehemently. "No you weren't. You were wonderful. You put me first every day, I was the center of your world, and instead of telling you how special that was, I threw it back in your face." He scrubbed his hands over his face again. "I don't deserve you."
I nodded. "You're right, you don't."
He sucked back a ragged breath. "I know." He sat back in the seat, but buried his face in his hands. "Carter, I've made such a mess of everything." He shook his head and sagged, defeated. "I feel so embarrassed… humiliated."
"Don't. You have no reason to. The only person to blame here is Joshua and the bastard he worked for, not you."
Isaac wiped his face. "I thought he was my friend," he said quietly. "If it weren't for you and Hannah, again, God only knows what would have happened to me. Or Brady! What if I got to Buenos Aires and they did something to him? Or if they took him from me, or hurt him?" He shuddered at the thought. "I guess it just proves I'm useless on my own."
"No, it doesn't, Isaac. Joshua would have had no leverage with you, if you'd just believed in yourself. He preyed on you because he knew he could feed your insecurity. If you would just see how perfect you are. If you just realized how perfect you are, then he wouldn't have stood a chance."
"I do believe in myself," he offered weakly. "Well, I did. I did, up until I met him. He never told me I was… not perfect. He just told me I could be better. 'Wouldn't it be better?' he'd ask me. And I wanted to be better. I wanted to see. For you, for Hannah." A single tear rolled down his cheek. "You want to know the most awful thing?" he asked, crying harder. "The hardest, most horrible thing?"
"What's that?"
Tears ran down his cheeks, but his voice was quiet. "He gave me hope."
"Oh, Isaac. There's always hope."
He shook his head. "No, there wasn't. I was told from the day I woke up after the accident, when I was eight years old, there was never any hope. I was told I would never see again. Impossible, they said. Once the nerve dies, that's it, it's too late." He exhaled loudly. "And for the first time since I lost my sight, someone told me 'yes'."
I squeezed his hand. "You know what? One day there might be. They're working on new medical breakthroughs every day. I'm sure deaf people never dreamed of a bionic ear, and people with regenerative visual disorders are having sight restored. Isaac, who knows what will be available in two, five or ten years’ time?"
"But not now."
"No, not now. Not yet. But soon. There is always hope. If there are new developments, by licensed, accredited doctors with the proper research, with the proper facilities and procedures to restore your sight, and if it's what you want, then I will be there with you, every step of the way."
He nodded and smiled sadly. "Do you think they will, one day?"
"Yes, I do," I said, putting my hand to his face, wiping away his tears. "Yes, I do."
"Isaac, what do you want?" I looked around the airport lounge, at the few people who were watching. "Do you want me to take you home?"
He shook his head. "I want you to move back in with me," he said quietly. "I want you to forgive me. I want you to tell me you believe me when I say nothing happened with Josh, nothing at all. It wasn't like that. It was never like that with him," he said shaking his head. "It killed me to think you believed it, even though that's what I implied. I can't blame you, when it was my fault. But Carter, I couldn't have ever done anything with him, or anyone else, when I'm still in love with you."
I smiled, finally, and squeezed his hands. "I'm still in love with you, too."
Isaac took a deep, shaky breath. "Really? After everything I've done?"
I leaned up on my knees and put his hands back to my face. "Yes, really. But Isaac, I think we have some real issues to deal with. I want to move back in with you, but things have to be different."
Isaac nodded quickly. "They will be."
"No, I mean, not in your house."
His brow furrowed. "What?"
"I never lived there," I told him. "Well, I mean, technically I did, for about four weeks, but it was never my home. It was still your house, with your things and none of mine. I don't care about possessions, or whatever, but I just felt like everything was yours, like it was just where I lived, not my home…" I took a breath. "I'm not making any sense."
"That makes sense," Isaac murmured. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't realize until I moved out, and when I went back to grab a few things, it was like I'd never lived there."
He frowned. "I spent hours cleaning when you left. I could still smell you everywhere," he whispered. "It drove me insane."
"Oh, Isaac."
"But I don't care," he said, suddenly brighter. "If you want to move somewhere else, I'll move with you…" his words faded away. "If you want me to. If that's what you want. It's up to you."
"It is what I want," I told him, rubbing his hand with my thumb. "Maybe we could find a place together. Somewhere that's ours, not yours or mine."
Isaac's eyes welled with tears, but he smiled. "I'd really like that."
Then from the corner of my eye, I saw something, or someone, running. It was Hannah. She came running into the airport lounge, and stopped when she saw us. She put her hand to her mouth and started to cry.
"Isaac, Hannah's here."
He put his head up. "Where?"
I stood up and pulled him to his feet. Hannah was now walking over to us, tears running down her face and without breaking stride, she threw her arms around her brother.
"You scared me," she cried. "You fucking crazy bastard, what were you thinking? Have you lost your fucking mind?"
I think a few people stared, but I just smiled. This was a typical Brannigan apology.
"I'm sorry," Isaac said. He buried his face into her shoulder.
"You should be. You took ten years off me," she scolded him, as she hugged him tighter. "You almost killed poor Carter, he was a fucking mess because of you," she said, then she pulled back and took his face in her hands. "He loves you, for real, Isaac. Forever. Do you understand what that means?"
He nodded. "I do now."
"Good," she said, then she slid her arm around him and smiled through her tears.
"Can we go now?" Isaac said.
"No," Hannah added abruptly. "Carlos is coming with Ada. I ran ahead. I told him we'd be at Gate six." Then she softened. "I'm really glad you didn't get on that plane."
Isaac hugged Hannah again, and while they were getting reacquainted, I looked down at the ever-patient, always waiting Brady, and gave him a hug. "Oh, Brady, buddy. I've missed you too. Hey? So has Missy. She's missed you so much."
He thumped his tail on the ground, and when I let go of him, he licked my face. "Ugh," I said, wiping dog slobber from my cheek. "Brady just kissed me."
Hannah laughed at me, stepped from underneath Isaac's arm, and pulled my arm. "Here, swap you places."
I slid my arm around Isaac's lower back, and instantly felt… relieved, like my body melted into his. As soon as he knew it was me, he dropped Brady's harness and threw his arms around me for me a proper hug. I held him tight and buried my face into his neck. He mumbled over and over how sorry he was, how he loved me, how he missed me.
Carlos walked up to us, carrying a baby carrier, out of breath, but smiling. "Oh, thank God," he panted, handing over the carrier, with a wide-awake Ada, to Hannah.
Isaac turned to face him. "Carlos, I'm sorry…"
"Isaac, don't apologize," he said, giving Isaac a man-hug. "Just don't ever do that again. I can't be expected to run that far. I'm not fit. I'm a married, straight guy. I don't work out. I'm gonna have a heart-attack." He leaned his hands on his knees.
Hannah looked at her husband and gave him the death stare. "Did you run while you were carrying the baby carrier, with Ada?"
Carlos stood up, waved his hand at Isaac, then at her, then back to Isaac before throwing both hands up. "Ugh. You know what? I'm not even gonna answer that." Then he looked at me. "You'll never win."
Isaac smiled and leaned into me. "Can we go now? I'd like to go now."
"Yep," Hannah said. "Let's go."
Carlos took Isaac's suitcase, I picked up Brady's harness and handed it to Isaac, picked up his sunglasses off the seat and slid them onto his face.
Hannah looked around and smiled. "Is that everything?"
I slipped my arm around Isaac's waist and whispered, "Yeah. It's everything."