High Tide | Mature Ed Sheeran Fanfiction

High Tide | Chapter 8: London

Kendra......

He's not over her.

It was time to go home.

The realization was stark, black and white. And I had been here before. This crossroads. Leaving my old life behind, blessed with the means to be able to do so. It had been the best decision I could have made for myself, though I still carried some guilt around it.

It was an anxious, eerie kind of calm. My entire body was buzzing, but I somehow felt in control, cool and collected. I flitted about the penthouse gathering up my few personal belongings and stacked them neatly inside one of the paper bags that the concierge had brought me. I sat down at the dining table with my cell phone and began looking for flights home.

Should I talk to Ed? Say goodbye? I don't think I could see him in person, but I could call. Or text. Yeah, maybe text. The hell am I going to say? Maybe I should just wait. Call him when I get home.

I went to the British Airlines website, since that was the line I came in on. I quickly navigated their little digital schedule, finding a flight to NYC that was leaving in about four hours. Okay, no problem, I can get a connecting flight from there. Or drive. How far is it? Six hours or so?

I added the flight to NYC and began the checkout process, the website asking for my personal information. I furiously tapped out my name, birth date, and address when it hit me:

I don't have my passport.

It's at Ed's.

I paced around the suite, hand clutching at my forehead in the most cliche way possible. What do I do?

Options:
Go get it yourself
Call Lauren and ask her to bring it. Ha, like Ed would let her do that alone.
Call and talk things over with Ed
Why do all of these options include talking to or seeing Ed?

US Embassy it is.

All jokes aside, a funny thought began to creep into my head. My gut instinct was to run; but now, I couldn't. Not without facing him first. I'd just about hopped directly on a plane back home, but that was all out the window now.

What a cruel trick of fate.

I just wasn't ready to speak to him. But that didn't mean I should never speak to him again. The thought of never seeing him throw his head back in laughter, or feeling his fingers lace up between mine... it was crushing.

I must have paced for a solid 30 minutes, debating back and forth with myself, before I came to a conclusion.

I'm going to stay. For now. I need some time.

Ed......

I woke on the living room sofa, morning light filtering in through the large panes of glass that lined the walls. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and reached forward to grab my glasses off of the coffee table. Everything came into focus; Lauren was sleeping on the adjacent couch. I guess she didn't want me to be alone.

I didn't want to wake her, it was because of me that she hadn't gone to sleep til nearly 4 in the morning. I slipped off the sofa and padded quietly upstairs to my bedroom, wanting to brush my teeth and have a scalding hot shower. The water won't wash the shame away, you prat.

My heart sunk impossibly lower as I came 'round the corner and saw Kendra's suitcase and bags leaning up against the wall. Not more than 24 hours ago, I had happily carried all of her things up here, at her request. "I cannot sleep on a couch again tonight, Ed, you're being silly."

I'm sure she had to have felt a bit weird about staying here, the home I had shared with another woman. But she trusted me.

My fingers twitched, and I suddenly was craving a drink. Your coping mechanism.