Jay's POV
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It is just slightly problematic to me, being an independent male, that merely leaving and travelling for a few days without her is ridden with anxiety. This is intensified by the fact that my unborn child residing in her is back home and I'm not there to protect them. Like the first time you leave the house without your parents, but without the exhilaration or freedom. A feeling that just nags at me, my mind telling me that I'm alone again. And I reflect on how, we've never really spent any time apart. At all. Its made me feel lost, missing something. It's obscene that I used to crave time alone. Away from people.
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With my head low, earphones in listening to Johnny cash to keep me calm, I walk through the airport. Palm trees line the sides of escalators here in Dubai international airport. I remember Dad, dressed in his suit breezing through the airport with me on his coat tails taking in the grandeur of the airport for the first time. He would snap at me, pulling me along. Come on boy he would say exasperated whilst talking on his cell phone. At that time phones were reminiscent of bricks and I used to laugh at how he looked holding the massive contraption to his face, consistently. Yet here I am now, phone glued to my hands staring into it as if it holds the meaning of life.
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The airport used to be a treat for me, a spectacle especially being gold members and having access to the private lounges, the whole experience used to be enthralling. As I pass the water feature in terminal three I remember my dad lecturing me on not going anywhere near the water. My protestations greeted by his sneers, and continuous lectures. Young children were not a part of his world; he was a high flying business type. Not a dad that played baseball or helped out at the school fate.
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I smirk imagining our child following me along on a business trip or two. Instead of my briefcase I'd have a backpack full of wipes and juice boxes, I'd let him swing on my office chair, and push his face up against the windows making silly faces. And make marks all over the glass. Unlike my father, I will allow him to still be a child in an environment that doesn't cater for silliness and innocence.
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Travelling when you're young and idealistic is the start of an adventure. It meant the start of holidays; new cuisines, the best pools, time off school. Dad placed little value in school, seen as he already had his eyes set on me for his own company. Now though I'm just a business man in this suit. And as I walk through everybody else, and past the circular gold palm, I hate it.
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The busy foyer exasperates me, just like it did my father all those years ago. And I take a minute to check my phone. I've looked at the world clock app on my phone over and over again just to see what time it is where Taylor is. A part of me, my better half is missing. And with her being in a different time zone I feel disconnected from my life and it's frustrating. Eleven hours difference. I pocket the phone determined to just get myself to the suite
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I take in the marble and gold decor adorning the walls and floor as I avoid all of the tourists taking pictures. As the heat hits me when I finally manage to check out of the airport, I breathe in and out to steady myself. I don't consider myself a smoker anymore but right now with zero risk to Taylor and the baby, I decide to light up. Imagining my dad lecturing me on the bad impacts of smoking, barraging me with facts and figures, giving me reason after reason not to smoke. And me being defiant and smoking anyways. Just to spite him.
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Just to check I pull my phone out of my blazer pocket. It illuminates a message from Matty, and both relief and anticipation wash over me. I glance up holding onto my briefcase, ditching the cigarette and hailing down a cab.
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"Palm Jumeirah" I say casually and the driver eyes me curiously. He's most likely wondering, how a guy my age is so well off. Glancing at my suit and briefcase he decides I'm just another guy in a fancy job with expensive clothes. He begins driving me as I sit back in the leather seats with the tinted windows covering up the glare of the sun and the air con chilling out the ride.
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Opening up the message, I read it carefully. It's important that I read what he is trying to convey to me. When Matthew says anything I've decided that there is always a second layer as to what he actually means.
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Jay, sorry all is good. We went to the hospital today, spent the day there, Ross has been moved. He's looking up. Taylor went shopping for food, we got back and fell asleep on the sofa watching some crappy action movie. Hope your flight has been good and you arrive safely.
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We. Angers me, him classing them as "we". As an item. We did this and we did that. My jealousy flares and I consider another call but I check the time on the world clock again for the hundredth time. It's the middle of the night and I shouldn't.
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I imagine my wife on our cream sofa with our baby inside of her and Matthew holding her. I glance out of the tinted glass, he wanted me to know that she fell asleep with him. He wanted me to ponder whether she went to bed or stayed there with him. He wants me to think about him taking my sleepy wife up to bed. And for my paranoid mind to make up the rest.
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Taylor needed help whilst I was out of town there is no question about it, I push my blonde hair back, thinking. Debating ways in my head that I could have played this better. I couldn't ask Rachel. Too wild, too self centred and utterly irresponsible. I imagine her inviting all the guys over and creating more problems for Taylor to contend with.
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Ross is out of action, or he would have been over uninvited just at the whispers of her being alone. He believes he has some claim that overrides my marriage. I tap my knees, thinking about my response. Review, rethink and learn before you react my Dad would always say. It's his mindset that makes me a better, more capable player of any game. A winner.
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Matthew having had Taylor before me will believe, no matter the situation, that she's his. I've known him for a long time. Years of friendship yet we've always fought over women. This particular fight though, it's the fight of my life. My wife, my child and my future.
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As the car grinds to a stop I tip the cab driver generously for not gnawing my ear off at an attempt in small talk. He smiles graciously wishes me a good day and I step out with my belongings.
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Palm Jumeirah is an offshore island, an island in the shape of, you guessed it, a palm tree. It was artificially man made and should you fly your chopper and hover above the island you would see that it is the exact outline of a palm tree. I briefly imagine explaining this to my own child, remembering how my own Dad questioned me on my knowledge of the place. Making it one of his games where I wouldn't be able to guess the answer yet he enjoyed taunting me and then finally telling me the answer, righteously.
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For us, I have acquired one of the most luxurious, exclusive penthouses. I figure that I will be earning an amount of money that I couldn't have dreamed of and so another property isn't a worry. It's an investment. Moreover it's important that should I be staying here for business frequently, that the place I've managed to buy is fit for everybody. Taylor and the baby included should they come along. It's the most family oriented penthouse I've ever seen.
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Panoramic views over the white sand beaches and the glimmering Persian gulf. Unlocking the door to our new Dubai home, I take in the white neutral extravagance snd smile. A large print hung on the hall wall, highlighted with a spot light. The print I purchased from the restaurant I took Taylor too, when we stayed at the spa. She has no idea I purchased it but she will adore it. I can see her smile in my minds eye, and it allows me to be calm, collected and rational and work out what my next steps are.
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Standing before the artwork I bought her I type a reply to Matthew. Review and learn complete now it's time to react.
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Thanks man, arrived safe. Can't thank you enough for making her feel safe and looked after. I miss her entirely and will be back in no time. Glad that Ross is on the mend. Couldn't make me happier.
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Vital is it that he doesn't catch a whiff of my paranoia. I pocket my phone back in my Armani blazer. Check myself out in the mirror and realise I must look just like a younger version of my father. Ditching my suitcase I grab my briefcase and head back out to the office. Business head on, no need for emotion.
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