I almost texted him again at twenty-two minutes to ask him if he had gotten my text, but I managed to stop myself.
At twenty-eight minutes, I couldn't stop myself any longer. I sent him the text asking if he had gotten my previous text. No response.
At forty-five minutes, I heard an announcement that my flight was beginning to board. I had one bite of the spinach artichoke dip even though I didn't have an appetite, then paid for it and got over to my gate.
As I walked in line down the gate to get on the plane, I kept thinking I felt the vibration of my phone going off. I would check it, and there would be nothing there. The Phantom Vibration kept going off every few seconds until finally I decided to just ignore it and wait until I got to my seat.
My row was empty when I got there, but I knew that they packed every person that they could on these flights. Luckily, I had a window seat, my preference.
People continued to file into the plane as I pulled out my phone. Still nothing. As the number of people standing began to dwindle, a flight attendant walked by, closing all the overhead storage bins. She looked at me, stating, “Ma'am, you're going to need to shut that phone off before takeoff.” She kept walking, not making sure I actually turned it off.
I looked at the time on the clock. It had been seventy-eight minutes since I had sent him the picture, and by now, I had to assume that he just wasn't going to respond. Maybe he thought I was making it up, that that hadn't actually been what I was hiding. Maybe he was lawyering up, getting ready to have me sign some other humiliating agreement with a monetary payout, like he had offered Audrey.
Maybe he just didn't care.
As my finger pressed the power button on the top of my phone and held it down, I felt an enormous amount of sadness. I was sure that this was “Goodbye” between James and I. My phone shut off, and as it did, I felt like my own emotions shut down. I leaned my head against the window and looked outside at the darkened airport. Without thinking, my fingers went to my belly, simply for comfort this time. I was too drained to even cry, but I knew how terrible I must have looked.
Someone sat in the seat next to me, and I felt self conscious about them seeing me like this. I didn't ever wear makeup, but I knew that my cheeks were bright red and that my eyes were probably bloodshot and had puffy bags under them.
“If you need to, you can use my shoulder to cry,” a familiar voice said. I cursed myself, thinking that I was so distraught that my mind was playing tricks on me. Still, I had to look at whoever had offered.
My mind hadn't been playing tricks on me. And, even though his smile was weaker than usual, it still managed to melt my heart.
“We have a lot to talk about,” James said.
Chapter 42
I blinked once. Twice. Though the tears in my eyes made it hard to see, I knew it was James. There could be no doubting that voice, that smile, that smell.
“James!” I cried, maybe a little too loudly. I saw a flight attendant turn toward me, the same one that had told me I had to silence my phone. I moved to hug him, but stopped short. Just because he was here didn't mean that he was happy to see me. It didn't mean that he wanted this baby or that things were cleared up between us.
It just meant that he had gotten my text.
I swallowed hard. “James,” I repeated, this time a little more reserved as I folded my hands into my lap. “What are you doing here?”
/>
He sighed. “We need to talk, Allie.”
I nodded, looking down at my feet. I risked a glance up at him. His face was made of stone and his green eyes were dark and angry. This wasn't exactly how I wanted to tell him that I was expecting, but I didn't feel like I had much of a choice.
A man made it to where we were on the plane and practically threw his bag up into the overhead compartment. He looked like he had been drinking all evening, and he was probably big enough that the airline would make him buy two seats. However, it seemed that they hadn't, because he sat down in our row. James made an annoyed sound as the very large man smushed into the aisle seat next to him.
“Not here, though.” he said, glaring at me. “Let's go.”
“Okay,” I replied, grabbing my bag from under the seat. Hope was starting to grow, flickering and dancing around in my stomach and chest, trying to catch fire and spread. I kept tamping it down, knowing that one word from him would send me careening into despair. Yet, so far, he hadn't said or done anything to make me think he wouldn't accept the child.
We both crawled over the man in the aisle seat. It wasn't easy. But we managed to do it and started walking down the aisle to get to the exit at the front of the plane.
The flight attendant came out of nowhere and held up her hand, blocking our escape completely.
“I'm very sorry, but you two need to sit down. We're about to take off,” the flight attendant informed us.
“We're getting off the plane.” James said, glaring at her.
“That's not possible,” she said, motioning to the doors. “The doors are closed. We're taking off in two minutes. Sit down.”
“Do you know who I am? I'm not staying on this flight. Especially not in coach.” James rose to his full height.