With a sad smile, he turns his laptop to face me, and my gaze falls to the headline at the top of the screen.Ex-Wife Shares Truth Behind Divorce from Pilots’ GMand then the sub-heading reads, “He was a neglectful husband and a possessed monster.”
The plane hits a pocket of turbulence at the same moment, so I don’t know which event makes my stomach bottom out faster—the rocky altitude or the lies splashed across the internet about me.
“Jesus Christ…what the fuck?” I take the laptop in my hand and bring it in close, getting a good read of the entire article.
When done, I hand it back to Noah, who sits there with a sympathetic look of concern.
“It’s fucking clickbait. I know Jasmine didn’t say those things about me.” As soon as I say the words, I wonder, though.
Did she really feel that way about me?
I was never a monster toward her. That’s not who I am. But was I neglectful? Yeah, we’ve determined that. Grief does that to a man. I turned inward, feeling utterly useless and helpless in the face of the loss of our son.
Then I refocused all my positive energy into building my team. I absolutely wasn’t there for Jasmine when she needed me the most.
Noah reaches across and places a reassuring hand on the top of my knee, his features softening with a caring look in his eyes expressing his support.
“I obviously don’t know what happened, Marek, but I know who you are within this organization. I’ve never worked for a better man or leader than you. The entire staff admires you. The players respect you. Your coaches listen to you and appreciate the decisions you make that aren’t for your own ego, but for the good of the organization. Fuck all the haters out there. They aren’t worth an ounce of your worry.” He throws a middle finger in the air as an exclamation point to his rant.
I offer Noah a tight smile and nod as the plane dips once more. The captain chooses that moment to use the overhead intercom system to make an announcement.
“Sorry folks, but if you’re up and about the cabin, please return to your seats and buckle up. We’re in for some turbulence as we begin our descent into Chicago.”
“I guess I’ll get back to my seat.” I stand up, clasping my hand on the top of Noah’s shoulder. “Thanks for the pep talk, Noah. I appreciate it.”
He chuckles. “Not sure I did anything, but I mean it.”
I spin around and hold on to the backs of the seats as I make my way to my own row, the plane bouncing wildly as my balance remains unsteady.
Harper is awake now and the minute I step into the row, I see her wide, bewildered eyes latch onto mine, her face ghostly white. And then I notice the death grip she has on the armrests.
Her lips tremble with fright, voice shaky. “I can’t die, Marek. My family needs me.”