This Crazy Rich Boy - Chapter 160

The Bentley is fast running on the main road, and other drivers would be completely focused on the driving, their eye and attention never straying from the road ahead. But not Dean; he’s been driving through these roads, in Gabriel’s super-fast cars, that the driving feels like muscle memory, fully automatic, as though he could close his eyes and drive and still reach the destination unharmed. But of course, he wouldn’t do that with such a precious cargo on board.

And that precious cargo’s question holds fully his attention.

“What would you do if you were in my position?”

“How do you mean, Ma’am?” Because, truly, he must clarify. Claire Monteverde’s position in the universe he lives in is never a singular, simple thing; it is, in fact, one of the most subtly layered positions he has ever encountered.

“My love for Gabriel,” she says, looking out the window with the saddest eyes. “Sometimes, I don’t know what to do. I run from one confusion to another.”

Dean smiles. “I’m a simple fellow, Miss Claire. I don’t let myself confused by all the details. If it were me, I’d just follow my heart.”

Follow your heart. The words reverberate in Claire’s mind. Those are almost the same words the old woman on the bus had told her. Not too long ago, she also had a simple belief about love and life: follow your heart. But these days, actual events seem to shake her out of the purity of that simple truth.

“Thank you, Dean,” she mutters. “I needed that.”

“I’ve been through a lot, Ma’am,” he says. “And always, I keep my eyes on the prize. You’ll be surprised to see how simple things truly are when you start ignoring all the bullshit.”

“Yeah,” she says, thinking about Gabriel’s mom. Even the memory of Matilde’s face as she made that ȯbsċėnė offer back at the penthouse suite makes Claire’s heart jump.

“Miss Claire,” Dean says, as the car enters the long driveway into the airport complex. “It is possible that Gabriel is no longer here. But—”

“But it’s still worth checking out,” Claire says.

Dean agrees. “You’ve got that right, Ma’am.”

The Bentley deftly eases into a parking slot a few meters away from the main entrance. Dean jumps out to open the door for her. By now it is already early evening, and the airport’s front grounds is awash with yellow floodlight.

Claire stands in the middle of a stream of people coming and going, uncertain of where to go next.

“I can go with you, Ma’am, if you like,” Dean says, standing beside her like some dashing bodyguard. “An extra pair of eyes could be a good help.”

“Please, Dean,” she says. “Thank you.”

There are so many people in the main lobby. The waiting areas are swarming with people who mostly look tired and bored and irritable. “It seems some flights have been delayed,” Dean says, gazing at the huge information screen on the wall. “These people have been waiting for their plane for hours.”

“Oh,” she says. She has never travelled by plane before; always, she used the bus. Or the ferry boat. She realizes now that no matter the mode of transport, there will always be these execrable problems.

The whole mess of people starts making her feel like she’s never going to find him in this place. Would Gabriel even have the smallest patience to stay in such a crowded place as this?

“If you were Gab and you’re looking for someone who might have just bought a ticket,” she sidles up to Dean, “where would you go?”

“Hmmm.” Dean looks around. “Maybe I’d ask the airline counters.” He gestures toward the long counter, where every airline in existence holds court.

Claire blinks; it is such a formidable sight. Where does she even start?

“What if at this moment, Gab decides to leave and drive home?”

“Oh, shoot, the exit!” Dean’s face lights up. “Should I watch the exit, Ma’am?”

Claire hesitates; at this point, the possibilities seem to drown her. She couldn’t decide which definite course to take. “Do you think it’s wise?”

Dean shrugs. “I’m not sure, but you know that feeling, Ma’am? When you’re facing a multitude of choices and you’re paralyzed from having to choose? At least we have to make one choice. I can watch the exit in the off-chance that he might be thinking of leaving. I could easily spot him even in a crowd like this.”

But is it the wisest choice? Claire wonders. She looks around; maybe time is running out. Maybe they should just go home and wait for gab to show up. But then again if that happens, so goes the impact of her remorse—Gabriel would think and feel that she doesn’t take him seriously. Like she doesn’t care. Oh God, if only she can see him now.

“Okay, Dean, you can watch the exit.”

“Right away, Ma’am! Dean disappears, leaving her in the middle of that ocean of people.

If you were Gabriel, how would you search for someone in an airport?

Then the memory of Gabriel’s past exploits flashes in her head: how he had always used his clout, his influence, to demolish obstacles in his way, or to make things easier, especially in desperate moments.

If you were Gabriel, Claire thinks, I’d start from the top to mobilize the bottom—I’d talk to the boss, the manager of this airport. That is, if Gabriel Tan’s connections reached this far.

That doesn’t seem to solve anything. She doesn’t have a social media account; she doesn’t have pictures online. Gabriel doesn’t even have photos of her in his phone. Theirs is a relationship that has yet to find its calm moments; moment when they could kick back and relax and take wacky selfies together. Even if Gabriel speaks to the airport manager, and said airport manager commands his people to watch out for her, how would they know how she looked like?

Of course, Claire, in her quiet desperation, her rising panic, has forgotten about the fact that her photos were on the frontpages of magazines and newspapers just yesterday. Even now the media has not finished feasting on her. Airport personnel could use that; heck, the people on the bus recognized her easily.

And yet, Claire’s thoughts are elsewhere. She tries to imagine being in Gabriel’s shoes. She imagines what if it’s the other way around—what if it were Gabriel who had tried to leave without saying goodbye, and it was her in this airport, blindly combing the crowd, looking for him? What would she feel? How would she do it?

Slowly, the impact of that realization hits her: she sobs quietly. She would be deeply hurt if Gabriel left without saying goodbye. The mere thought of never being able to see him is too hard to bear. Now if Gabriel is in this place, fully believing that he might never see her again, he would be saddled with grief.

Now she realizes the magnitude of the pain Gabriel might be feeling right now; he would be inconsolable. He would be the saddest person in this entire airport.

The saddest person. And as if on cue, her vision catches that figure sitting alone on a bench by a column, his back to her. His back is hunched, his shoulders drooping, but she couldn’t be wrong. It must be him. And the moment Claire decides that is must be him, everything else disappears and all she could see is that man sitting alone on that bench—the saddest man in this place, bearing on his shoulders some unimaginable grief.