"You're really pale. And you're gripping the armrests like we're about to crash."
"I'm fine. Just... not great with takeoffs."
It's not entirely a lie. I'm not great with takeoffs when I'm also battling morning sickness and trying not to think about the fact that I'm carrying this man's baby.
The plane accelerates, and my stomach lurches in protest.
Oh no.
"I need—" I start to stand, but my seatbelt's still fastened and the plane's already tilting upward and—
Donovan's out of his seat in a flash, unbuckling my seatbelt and pointing me toward the back of the plane. "Bathroom's through there. Go."
I don't argue. Just stumble toward the back, barely making it to the small but immaculate bathroom before I'm sick.
Again.
This is officially the worst day of my life.
When I'm finally empty, I sink onto the closed toilet seat and drop my head into my hands.
This is humiliating. Completely, utterly humiliating.
There's a soft knock on the door.
"Emma? You okay?"
"Fine," I call out, voice shaky. "Just... give me aminute."
"I'm coming in."
"No, don't—"
But he's already opening the door, because apparently privacy is optional on private planes.
He's holding a bottle of water, some crackers, and a damp washcloth, and his expression is concerned rather than disgusted, which is something.
"Here." He hands me the washcloth. "For your face."
I take it gratefully, pressing the cool cloth against my forehead. "I'm sorry. But it…it’s nothing. I’ve been off all week.”
"Have you seen a doctor?"
"It's probably just stress. New job, big presentation, traveling..." I trail off, realizing I'm making excuses.
Donovan crouches down so we're at eye level, which is both sweet and makes me want to cry.
"Emma, you've been pale and exhausted for over a week. This isn't just stress." His voice is gentle. "After Chicago, you're seeing a doctor. That's not a request."
"Okay," I whisper, because arguing seems impossible right now.
"Can you stand?"
I nod, and he helps me up, one hand on my elbow, steady and warm.
We make our way back to the main cabin, and he settles me into my seat with the crackers and water.
"Small sips," he instructs. "And eat the crackers slowly. It'll help settle your stomach."
