by Marni Mann
I wasn’t sure what I’d been looking at, but now, my eyes were locked with his. “What did you say?”
“I bet your smile is much more beautiful than your frown.”
There was something in the back of my throat, and it was huge.
I just wanted to return to the days when I used to smile.
Right now, I couldn’t even remember what it felt like to lift my lips in that direction.
And I certainly didn’t need this stranger reminding me.
I left the bottles on the counter, turned my back to the man, and walked out the door.
I didn’t go home. I didn’t go to another store either, even after I found some cash in my pocket. I just walked through New York.
Because my feet and this city were the only two things that didn’t hurt.
Twenty-Eight
Honey
Winter 1984
Andrew decided to take Honey to Virginia for Christmas. Even though they were living together and she had already met his family, Andrew didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable in his parents’ home, so he rented them a hotel in the capital. They took a late afternoon flight, and when they arrived, he brought her to the hotel’s spa for a massage, the first one she’d ever had.
After they got dressed for dinner, Andrew told her the restaurant wasn’t far, and they would be walking there, which Honey preferred anyway—and he knew that. With the weather warmer than Maine, she bundled up a little lighter and clasped her fingers around Andrew’s, taking in the different sites he pointed out along the way. This was her first trip to Washington, DC, and she wanted to see it all. So, they took their time, and Honey got to experience what the city looked like at night, how the streetlamps gave the town a romantic orange glow.
She knew the path they had just turned down wasn’t going to lead them to the restaurant, but she didn’t say a word because they were walking toward one of the most beautiful structures she had ever seen.
“It’s the Lincoln Memorial,” he said when they stopped directly in front of the steps. “And it’s my favorite one.”
“I can see why.”
“No, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Still holding her hand, he helped her climb the stairs, and when they reached the top, he turned her around and moved in behind her. Standing on the platform with Lincoln in back of them, Andrew’s hands went to her navel, and he whispered in her neck, “Now, you know why.”
Honey stood frozen in amazement as her eyes traveled across the National Mall to the Washington Monument. “It’s breathtaking.”
The wind was just strong enough to make the water ripple, the lights reflecting on it now dancing.
Andrew ran his hand up and down her stomach, and Honey smiled from the gesture, the two of them silent as they stared at it all.
“You have to see this place in the spring when the cherry blossoms are in bloom,” he finally said after several minutes.
“I want to.”
“You will.” He kissed the top of her head before resting his chin on it. “I’m going to show you everything.”
She put her hands on his and squeezed them, but he didn’t let them stay there for long. That was because Andrew was walking around to the other side of her. And after he gently kissed her, he pulled a small black box out of his jacket and got on one knee.
“Honey,” he started, holding the box in her direction but not opening the lid, “I was in this very spot when I decided I wanted to be a doctor, helping a little girl after she fell down some of the steps.”
Honey’s heart pounded as she watched the emotion on his face, her eyes filling as he paused to take a breath.
“This place right here is what inspired my professional life, and now”—he opened the lid, showing her the diamond inside—“I want it to become the place where I ask you to be my wife.” He took the ring out of the box and held it. “Be with me forever.” He placed it at the tip of her finger. “Tell me you’ll spend every day with me for the rest of your life.”
Tears brimmed over her eyelids. “I want nothing more.” Not waiting for him to get to his feet, she flung her arms around his neck. “I love you so much, Andrew.” As she squeezed him, she heard him chuckle, the sound surprising her. “What’s so funny?”
“You didn’t let me put on the ring.”
Honey laughed and pulled away, giving Andrew her hand again, watching him slide the diamond on her finger. The band was gold and simple with a single pear-shaped stone.
“Forever,” she whispered as she stared at it.
He was on his feet when she hugged him again, and this time, he lifted her into the air and said, “It’s a promise.”
Twenty-Nine
Jared
The invitation had said it was a black-tie gala to celebrate the surviving passengers and crew of Flight 88. I knew it was really the airline looking for an opportunity to create good press. Even if they weren’t responsible for the plane going down, having their name linked to a crash wasn’t good for business. This party was the airline’s attempt at putting it all to rest.
What the invite hadn’t said was that the vice president of the United States, the mayor of New York, and several celebrities were going to be there.
It was a fucking media circus.
There was only one reason I had come.
Billie.
I just had to put my eyes on her. Turned out, she was easy to spot, but so was everyone else who had been on our flight that day. We all showed the same physical symptoms—dark circles under our eyes, a short attention span, the fear of our drinks getting too low in a public setting. I could tell who was medicated. They were the ones who could manage a smile.
That was how I knew Billie wasn’t taking anything. The corners of her lips hadn’t lifted once since I got here.
She was on the other side of the room in a black dress, holding a small purse in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other. Even though she was painted up and in heels, she wasn’t the girl I’d sat next to on the plane. The one who could barely let a quiet moment pass between us, who smiled the whole way from the lavatory to her seat. Who had a curvy, sensual body I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.
What I was staring at now was a tired, much thinner version, looking completely lost.
Still, I didn’t take my goddamn eyes off of her.
And even though I knew it was dangerous and it was exactly what I’d told myself not to do, I followed her to the restroom when I saw her head that way.
Since I’d worked this ballroom many times before, I knew a faster route, and I entered the hallway through the east side of the room and followed it until I was spit out directly in front of the restrooms.
Billie was several feet away, looking at her feet. She had no idea I was here. She hadn’t seen me; I was sure of that.
“Billie …”
She slowly glanced up, the realization passing across her face. There wasn’t a smile, but her eyes lightened. “Hi.” Her voice was so soft. “I didn’t think you were coming … I mean, I figured you’d have been here by now.”
I’d watched her look for me. She was easy to hide from.
“Are you doing all right?”
It had been a month since the crash, and she still hadn’t posted. And then there were her eyes that were still so fucking haunted. I knew the answer; I didn’t need her to say a word.
She shrugged, leaving her shoulders high for a few seconds before dropping them. She then took a breath, looking away when she shook her head. “No.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered when her stare returned, the rawness fucking killing me. If anyone understood that feeling … it was me. “Are you getting help? Talking to someone?”
She couldn’t do this alone. She needed support, but that person just couldn’t be me.
She nodded. “Every other day. It helps.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Reliving the parts I remember, it’s awful.”
“I know.”
There was silence—
not in the hallway, but between us.
And then, “Jared …”
I hadn’t forgotten the way it sounded when she said my name. I’d just forgotten how much I liked it.
“I have so much I want to say, things I didn’t get the chance to say at the hospital.”
“You’ve already thanked me, Billie.”
She shook her head. “This goes beyond thanking.”
She had begun to process what had happened. I knew the stages, how therapy worked. I’d stood in the corner during my clients’ sessions.
I just wanted her focusing on her—not us.
“Listen to me …” When my gaze narrowed, hers weakened even more. “Once you return to your life and your job and you stay busy, this will all get better.”
She pulled her hair to her right shoulder, exposing her left. On the top was the faintest outline of a bruise. It was where she had slammed into the side of the plane when the wheels touched the ground.
My hands clenched as I shook my head and said, “Trust me, Billie. I know what I’m talking about.”
Her eyes weren’t filling with tears, but they might as well have been.
I just wanted to wrap her in my fucking arms and comfort her and …
What the hell was I thinking?
I never should have come to this event.
I never should have met her in the hallway.
What she needed … I wasn’t that guy.
“I’m trying,” she replied. “I really, really am.”
A group of people were walking toward us, and I wanted to move her out of the way. I signaled, so she was aware, and then I put my hand on her lower back and brought her over to the wall.
She leaned her shoulder against it and turned to me.
“What do you need, Billie?” I asked when I searched her eyes and couldn’t see the answer.
“A hug.”
I know better, goddamn it.
My fingers clenched again, teeth grinding together.
Touching was what I wanted … and the worst thing for the both of us.
I took a deep breath, pushing those thoughts away, and I reached forward. She fell into me as though she were tired of standing and couldn’t do it for another second.
She didn’t need to with my arms around her.
I would take all of her weight.
And I did as her hands clung to my back, and her cheek pressed against my chest. I felt everything that was inside of that girl—her pain and sorrow. I wanted to take it away, hold it for her so she could return to her life. And that was what I tried to do when I put my face in her neck, clutching her with all of my strength.
We stayed like that.
For minutes.
Until I heard, “Jared, my whole family is here, and I want you to meet them.”
I’d warned myself before I hugged her.
Now, it was time to listen.
I straightened my back, lifting my face out of her neck, and my arms loosened. I waited until she felt stable enough before I took a few steps back and said, “My driver’s outside. I have a flight to catch.”
Her brows furrowed, her stare bouncing from my right eye to my left. “You’re not staying? You’re … flying tonight?”
I put my hand on her other shoulder, the unmarked one, the same place I’d held during the crash, and I tried not to let the look on her face affect me. Because if I took in the pain in her eyes, I’d never fucking leave her. “Remember, Billie … go back to your life. I promise, it’ll help.”
I should walk away and not look behind me.
And I did.
But not for a few seconds. I had to learn that beautiful face one last time. I hoped the world would get to see her smile again. The one I had seen when she gazed through the window of the plane and in the picture of her in the coffee shop. The one that deserved to shine so fucking bright.
“Wait,” she whispered as I turned my back to her.
I knew her sounds and what they meant.
Without stopping, I moved to the back of the ballroom and through a hallway to the exit where Tony was parked by the door.
“Home?”
“Yes,” I replied once I was in my seat.
But my mind was on the building behind us and the girl I’d just left inside of it.
Thirty
Billie
When Jared had walked away at the hospital, I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to understand what was happening. But now, as I stared at the back of his tall, broad frame while he moved down the busy corridor, I knew what it meant.
And I hated the way it felt.
When I had been around him tonight, even though it was brief, I hadn’t felt the weight of the crash. His presence had given my pain a pause, but it’d made my chest tighten in a way that reminded me of before—back when I’d only thought of him as a handsome seatmate and not one of the people who had saved my life.
Now, he was gone, and I didn’t know if I would ever see him again.
One of the passengers I’d spoken to earlier mentioned he wanted to get everyone together on the one-year anniversary of the crash. I wondered if that would be the next time we ran into each other, and then I questioned if Jared would even attend. He obviously wasn’t one for group events. He’d skipped the pictures at the beginning, and he hadn’t come onstage during the ceremony when everyone on the flight was acknowledged.
Once he rounded the corner of the hallway, the top of his head vanishing, an emptiness returned to my chest. It was the same feeling that had been living there for the last month.
The one that felt nothing like me.
I wondered if that was a side effect of the situation. If it was because Jared had saved me or if it was due to something more.
Something heavier.
Like emotions.
Not having any idea, I sighed and headed back to the ballroom, my urge for air—the reason I’d come this way in the first place—gone.
I didn’t take more than a few steps when I heard my father say, “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
I glanced up from the floor, meeting his concerned face, which meant he’d come this way to check on me.
I wrapped my hands around his arm, joining his side. “I’m okay, Dad.”
My family had been hovering since the crash, and there was always someone checking on me. I appreciated their efforts, but they just didn’t understand, and I couldn’t explain it to them.
“I ran into Jared,” I said.
He smiled, and it was so warm that I wanted to wrap myself in it.
“Where is he? I would like to thank that man for everything he did for you.”
I shrugged. “He had to leave.”
Every time I told the story, I spoke about Jared. He was the biggest part of it, and I told everyone he was one of the main reasons I was alive. This wasn’t the first time my father had mentioned to me that he wanted to thank Jared. The idea of it was absolutely beautiful. But with the way Jared seemed to pop in and out, I just didn’t know if it would ever happen.
Dad’s hand went to my cheek, his thumb brushing by my nose. “If you want, we can all leave too. Everyone will understand. We only came here for you.”
I turned my face, nuzzling into his palm. It didn’t matter how old I got; I’d never stop doing that, and it would never stop feeling good. “No, Dad, let’s stay. It’s important.”
It was closure.
For all of us.
I had to look at it that way.
“You’re sure?”
I nodded and grabbed his fingers that were on my face, holding them before I lifted them away and walked with him to where my family was standing.
Appetizers were on their plates. Meatballs and lamb chops and ahi tuna crisps. And they were alternating between sips and bites. Now that Ally was eating for two, she was double-fisting plates.
Not a single thing they were putting in their mouths looked good to me.
That part still hadn’t returned.
>
And I desperately wanted that piece of me back.
Thirty-One
Jared
I entered through the main lobby of Morgan Security, saying good morning to the receptionist before slowly making my way toward my office. Every few feet, I was stopped by an employee to talk, and by the time I got in my chair, my coffee was cold. I called my assistant, asking for a new one, as I waited for my computer to turn on.
After entering a series of passwords, I clicked on my email. There were hundreds waiting to be opened. Only one mattered. It had come in around three this morning, and I had been awake when my phone buzzed.
I’d read it enough times that I knew it by heart.
Each time, I heard it in her voice.
And each time, she got quieter.
As I mentioned in my last email, I was one of the passengers on Flight 88 that you’ve been hearing about recently on the news. It’s been extremely difficult, adjusting to life after the crash, and I’m afraid my healing has just begun. Even though I previously requested an extension on our contract, I’m writing to let you know that I won’t be able to fulfill it in the way we agreed.
* * *
To put it simply, I’m just not ready to get on a plane and fly.
* * *
I understand that traveling to your restaurant is a requirement, and your establishment is too far to drive to, so I would like to offer another option before you cancel our contract. Over the next few weeks, I’m going to be starting a new feature, allowing restaurants to air thirty-second spots on my social media channels. I ask that you show your kitchen and preparation, cooking demonstrations, plates, your staff, dining room—whatever you can fit in without exceeding the time limit. With the reach that I have, I feel this would be a wonderful opportunity to show a unique part of your business to a worldwide audience of eaters.
