Page 78 of Come Fly with Me

I laugh, but it’s without humor. “You thought it could work? Jesus, Maggie, you cheated on me,” I say, my tone harsh. “Literally weeks after we made the stupid decision to get married.”

“You really think it was stupid?” she fires back defensively.

“Maggie, come on,” I say, letting out an exhale. “I think we both know it was stupid. Neither of us was in a good headspace, and both of us knew it was the absolute worst thing to do given all of that. I mean shit, there were rules, remember? A process we should have been following.”

Now it’s her letting out a long breath. “Yeah,” she admits. “You might be right.”

I reach for my keys, grabbing a pen from the empty fruit bowl and putting it pointedly on top of the divorce papers. “I really appreciate you finally agreeing that we need to do this,” I say. “But the truth is, we’ve needed to do this from day one. Shit,” I say, scrubbing a hand across my jaw. “It just never should’ve happened in the first place.”

She stares up at me, a sadness in her eyes as she listens to what I’m telling her.

I look at my watch again, sighing when I see how much time has passed already. Meeting Maggie’s eyes, I finally admit the truth. “Look, I’ve met someone too, okay? Someone who is really important to me. And up until today, she did not know about you, so I really need you to sign these papers so I can go and fix things with her before I have to go and fly a fucking plane full of passengers who would actually like to get to their destination.”

Maggie picks up the pen, her other hand resting on the papers. She stares at them for what feels like forever before she finally says, “Do you love her?” She doesn’t look up, just stares at the page, the pen hovering so close to the dotted line.

I suck in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose as I let it out in a long slow exhale. “Yes,” I finally say. “I do.”

Maggie nods, still without looking up. “Did you ever love me?”

“Maggie, come on,” I say, shoving a hand through my hair as I pace around the kitchen.

She slams down the pen. “I think I deserve to know.”

I look over, see she’s staring at me, her face hard, but her eyes sad. “Did you ever love me?” I ask, my words harsh.

She ducks her head now, staring back at the papers as she shrugs and says nothing.

I step closer, put my hand on the bench as I gently nudge the papers closer. “I think we both know what this was, Maggie,” I say, my words quiet. “And I think we both know why this needs to happen. So please,” I say, pausing to look at my watch yet again, “please give me this so I can go and do what I need to do.”

I watch as she takes a deep breath, nodding once as she swipes angrily under her eyes before signing the papers and throwing the pen back into the empty fruit bowl. Then she pushes back from the bench, the stool legs scraping loudly on the hardwood floors before she turns and walks toward the front door.

“Thank you,” I say when she reaches it. She pauses, her hand on the handle, but she doesn’t turn around. “For this,” I add, “and for what you did back then.”

She glances back at me now, her eyes meeting mine. “Thank you too,” she whispers. “I know it wasn’t pretty, but it felt like what we both…”

“Needed,” I say, finishing her sentence.

“Yeah.” She nods, offering me a sad smile before she opens her bag and pulls out a key. “Here,” she says, holding out the house key she still has. “I guess this belongs to someone else now.”

I walk over, take the key from her. Neither of us says anymore. Maggie just leans in and places an awkward kiss on my cheek before turning away, walking out the door and down my drive toward the street, where I guess her car is parked.

As soon as she’s gone, I waste no time pulling my phone from my pocket and dialing Taylor’s number, only to hear it ring and ring before finally going to voicemail. As soon as the beeps sound, I start talking.

“Taylor, please let me explain,” I say, my words coming out in a rush. “It’s not what you think, I promise. It’s nothing, a mistake, a fuck up, a stupid decision that I can explain, please, I…”

The beeps signal, indicating the rest of my message has been cut off.

“Fuck,” I exhale, grabbing my keys, locking up the house and walking back to my car.

I haul arse back to Taylor’s, knowing I’m cutting it really close before I need to be at the airport, but desperate to sort this out before then. When I get to her place, I open the garage door using the clicker remote I took when we drove over to my place.

As soon as it opens, though, I can see her car is gone.

“Motherfucker,” I shout, slamming my hand on the steering wheel.

I reverse out of her driveway and head to the airport, grateful she managed to get us a flight together, even if the pilots’ lounge or the cockpit is the last place I want to have this conversation.

At least we’ll be forced into a confined space together and she won’t be able to avoid me.

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