The stewardesses are hovering around.
I nod with another fake smile. I don’t want a scene with anyone in earshot, and I’m still trying to calm myself down enough to think straight.
This is a lot.
The plane pulls out and drives around for a while. Christopher chatters on and makes small talk, overcompensating for my silence.
He knows.
We take off into the air, and he slides his hand onto my thigh. “You all right, babe? You’re very quiet,” he whispers.
I smile and nod. I’m not. It’s a lie.
“Can I get you anything?” the hostess asks me.
“Um . . .” I think for a moment. “Can I have a lemonade, please?”
“Of course.” She smiles and then turns to Christopher. “What would you like, Mr. Miles?”
He rolls his lips as he thinks for a moment. “I’ll have a Blue Label scotch and beluga caviar, please.” His eyes flick over to me. “Do you want something to eat, darling?”
I stare at him for a moment as I process his order.
Blue Label scotch and beluga caviar.
Since when has he liked those things? I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
The stewardess smiles warmly. “Yes, sir.”
She disappears out to the kitchen, and I watch as Christopher puts his head back against the seat as if starting to relax.
I don’t know him at all.
Nine hours later
The plane pulls to a stop on the tarmac, and I read the sign out the window.
WELCOME TO NEW YORK
Christopher bounces his leg as he sits beside me, impatient to get off the plane. He knows I’m off. I pretended to sleep the entire nine-hour trip so that I wouldn’t have to talk to him. Mainly . . . because I don’t know what the fuck to say.
He had a few glasses of scotch, ate caviar, and then watched a few movies, all with his hand protectively on my leg.
“You may disembark, Mr. Miles,” the captain says over the speaker.
Christopher stands and gets my handbag out from the overhead and fusses around. He takes my hand and leads me out.
“Thank you.” He shakes everyone’s hands as they line up by the door.
“Have a nice night.” The captain smiles. “Goodbye, Hayden. Lovely to meet you.”
“See you next time.”
I smile, detached from the situation. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience right now. Like I’m physically here . . . but I’m so shocked that I’m not.
He lied to me. For twelve months I have been falling in love with a man who doesn’t even exist.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so betrayed.
We walk out to the stairs, and I look down to see another limousine waiting on the tarmac. The driver is in a black suit and standing beside the car. He looks up and waves, and Christopher laughs and waves excitedly back. He nearly runs us down the stairs to get to him. “Hello, Hans.” He laughs as he pulls the driver in for a hug.
“Hello, Mr. Miles.” The man laughs, seemingly just as excited to see him too.
Christopher puts his arm around me. “This is my Hayden.” He smiles proudly.
“Hello,” Hans says as he shakes my hand.
“Hello.” I smile. Oh, he’s a nice old man, I can tell.
They throw our things in the trunk, and we get into the back seat. Christopher leans over and kisses my temple as he puts his arm around me. “Do you know how much I love you?” he asks.