It reminds me of the Mona Lisa’s for some reason, but I miss the chance to ask her about this with the pilot’s voice already coming over the speaker.
“We’ll be landing in Jackson Hole in approximately fifteen minutes. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
Fifteen minutes.
My stomach drops at the reminder, my heartbreak replaced by nervousness. In fifteen minutes, I’ll be starting a new job and living in a new place and working with new people. Everything isnew.And thus, absolutely terrifying for someone like me.
You can do this, Evianne.
I buckle my seatbelt with shaking hands and try to focus on my breathing.
In for four counts. Hold for four counts. Out for four counts.
The landing is smooth—because of course it is, because apparently private jets don’t do anything roughly—and as we taxi toward the private terminal, I look out the window at the mountains.
They’re massive and overwhelming. Beautiful in that harsh, unforgiving way that makes you feel small.
I’ve never been to Wyoming before. Never been anywhere west of Pennsylvania, if I’m being honest. Joseph always said we should save money instead of traveling, that we’d have time for trips after we were married—
Stop thinking about him!
My hands clench into fists as the jet comes to a complete stop, and the flight attendant appears to open the door.
Lady Hampton is already standing, gathering her things with practiced efficiency, and I rise to my feet as well, relieved to have something to do. Right now, feeling nervous is a lot more preferable than wallowing in heartbreak and self-pity.
The Wyoming air hits me as soon as I step out of the jet—cold and crisp and so clean it almost hurts to breathe. It’s early evening, the sun just starting to set behind the mountains, painting everything gold and pink and purple.
There’s a car waiting at the bottom of the stairs, a sleek black SUV with a driver in a suit, and he’s opening the door for Lady Hampton, and I’m following her inside, and—
Buzz.
It’s another message from Joseph.
Landing in Seattle! Hope your flight was good. Miss you so much.
I stare at the message. I seriously can’t imagine what he’s thinking or feeling as he keeps up with all these lies. I’m so, so tempted to ask him outright—
‘Everything okay?’Lady Hampton signs from across the car.
But instead I find myself shoving back in my pocket without responding to Joseph.
‘Yes,’I sign.
She only nods. I know I haven’t convinced her at all, but she’s just so nice and wise that she chooses to give me space instead of making me admit that no, nothing is okay.
The drive takes maybe fifteen, twenty minutes? I’m not really paying attention to the time. I’m too busy staring out the window at the landscape—mountains and trees and open sky—trying not to think about how Joseph is probably laughing with Glenda right now, probably holding her hand, probably—
Seriously, Evianne, stop it!
The car slows, and I look up to see massive iron gates with “FOXTOWN” spelled out in elegant script.
Oh.
My heartbreak becomes a thing of the past as I find myself being suddenly transported in a completely different world.
A guard waves us through, and I literally can’t breathe. It’s like driving into a Jane Austen novel, and I’m just so tempted to pinch myself.
Cobblestone streets lit by actual gas lamps. Buildings that look like they were built two hundred years ago. People in period costume walking around like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
