Chapter 6 - THE FLIGHT
Three hours is a long time to sit beside the collapse of a marriage.
Julian tried three strategies before the beverage cart reached our row.
First, anger.
“You had no right to ambush me.”
“I had seat 7C.”
Second, pity.
“You don’t understand how complicated things have become.”
“I understand six months of photographs.”
Third, intimacy.
“Elena, please. You and I should talk alone.”
I looked past him to Chloe.
“You said the same thing to her, didn’t you?”
Chloe closed her eyes.
Julian stopped.
That was when I knew he was cornered.
Not because I had the photos.
Not because I had the filing.
Because his methods were becoming visible to the second woman in the row.
Chloe asked him a question halfway over Tennessee.
“Were you ever leaving her?”
He looked exhausted.
“Yes.”
“When?”
He did not answer.
She laughed softly.
Not with humor.
With recognition.
“When she signed?”
Julian’s eyes flashed.
“That’s not fair.”
Chloe turned toward the window.
I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Then she said something that changed the flight.
“You told me the Miami entity was already cleared.”
Julian went still.
I looked at her.
“What Miami entity?”
Julian said, “Chloe.”
She ignored him.
“The holding company. He said his wife had agreed.”
I opened my folder again.
Slowly.
“Mara will want to hear that.”
Chloe looked at me.
“I didn’t know it was yours.”
“I believe that.”
Julian stared at me.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then explain it.”
He could not.
Not in front of Chloe.
Not with passengers listening.
Not with the plane already headed toward a meeting he could no longer use.
The flight attendant asked if we wanted drinks.
All three of us said no.
The woman across the aisle finally stopped pretending and looked directly at Julian like he had ruined her entire idea of first class.
By the time the pilot announced our descent, Julian’s shirt collar was damp.
Chloe had moved as far from him as the seat allowed.
And I had not cried once.
That was the part he couldn’t understand.
May you like
He thought grief made women messy.
He forgot grief can also make women precise.
