Or at least I imagined so: I’d never actually flown first class.
I boarded the plane and slipped my carry-on beneath the seat in front of me and buckled myself in.
I reached into my purse for my phone, just as a man who appeared to be a few years older than me slipped into the seat beside me.
I wasn’t in the mood for awkward pleasantries, but I smiled and nodded before glancing down to see a text from Cutler.
Bear
I love you. It doesn’t matter where you live, or how far apart we are. That doesn’t change.
People continued boarding as I stared down at my phone. I kept doing so while the flight attendant gave us the little spiel about how to survive if we crash-landed on a farm somewhere.
The lump in my throat was so thick it was difficult to swallow.
I quickly typed a message back before we took off.
I love you too. But everything is going to change. It’s inevitable.
Bear
I wouldn’t change a thing.
Really? Not a single thing? We’d now be living on opposite sides of the country.
Was this sleep deprivation causing me to be so irrational?
“Ma’am, would you like something to drink before we take off?”
Wow. First class was no joke. When I flew home from Paris, my lips were chapped from dehydration, but here we were still on the ground and I was being offered a beverage.
“I would love a water,” I said, and it sounded more like a croak.
I would not lose my shit on an airplane.
I wasn’t that girl.
“If you’d like something else, we can bring it out for you.”
I shook my head frantically. “No. No. The water is great.”
My voice cracked on the last word, and her eyes widened, but she hurried off to get our drinks.
“Are you all right?” the man beside me said, and he looked at me as if he was concerned.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m just sad, I’m not going to lose it,” I said, my voice wobbling, and he chuckled.
“I’m not worried you’re going to lose it. Just making sure you’re all right.”
“Thank you. I’ll be fine,” I said as the flight attendant set down my water and a hot coffee for him.
“Goodbyes are tough sometimes. I get it.” He winked.
Goodbyes were tough. And this one was the worst goodbye of all time.
I’d just acted like a complete asshole to the man I loved. The man who’d supported me when my life had spiraled. The man who had supported me when this opportunity presented itself.
He’d been completely selfless, and I’d acted like a child when I’d said goodbye.
