Page 86 of Anyone But You
I paused to gather myself before continuing.
“I returned to the cabin and assisted Victoria into her life preserver before fastening mine. By that time, we were falling from the sky. The next thing I remember was swimming to shore with Victoria. Your son joined us shortly on land with a life raft and some staples and supplies. But the truth is… your son died because he was inexperienced, stubborn, and hardheaded. I’m not trying to slander his name, but that’s the fact. The first several hours on the island were crucial. We were trying to scavenge for supplies, find water, and food. Victoria tried to guide him, but he panicked.”
Mr. Lancaster’s fists curled at his sides. “He was scared?”
“He was reckless,” I said, voice low. “She warned him not to eat the berries that he had found. She told him they were toxic. He didn’t listen. I guess he thought he knew better, and… welp.”
A thick, suffocating silence stretched between us.
“Joshua was inexperienced, and he wasn’t ready. And out there, not being ready gets you killed.”
Mr. Lancaster’s face twisted—grief, rage, disbelief all fighting for dominance. “You think he was a coward?”
“I think he made a fatal mistake,” I said. “And I think you deserve to know that it wasn’t anyone else’s fault.”
He stared at me like he wanted to swing, or scream, or collapse. But he didn’t. He slouched in the leather armchair and looked as if he had aged ten years in front of me.
“Do you have anything to drink?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I said, opening a desk drawer and retrieving a small unopened bottle of scotch Victoria had gifted me. I slid it towards him. He twisted off the cap and took a swig from the glass bottle, gaze dazed and nostalgic.
“The way you say he died-” Mr. Lancaster paused and shook his head. “-it’s no surprise to me. Josh was always a coward and never took responsibility for anything a day in his life. His mother overindulged his every whim. And when he said he wanted to be a pilot, she wanted to be Mom of the Year and throw all her support into him. I said it was a bad idea—a bad fucking idea. Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Ramsey—I love my boy so much, but the boy had the attention span of a tumbleweed. He had no business flying a plane. But it was two against one, and I knew I was fighting a losing battle. So, what did I do? I wrote a check to the best aviation school in the country, and miraculously, he graduated with his pilot’s license. He’d finally proven me wrong. Your flight was officially his first international flight. I wish I’d known it’d be his last.”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat and wished I had one of those nifty pain pills to dull the edge of reality.
“How is your wife holding up?” I asked.
“Horribly. She hasn’t been the same since the plane went missing. Sedatives have become her best friend,” he replied, locking his watery blue eyes on me. “I lost them both on that day.”
“I’m sorry,” I croaked, incapable of reining in my emotions.
Mr. Lancaster lifted a brow.
“You’re sorry for what?”
“For returning with less than favorable news.”
“No need to apologize,” he replied, climbing to his feet. “Take that $1 million you offered to settle and donate it to a charity for underprivileged aspiring pilots in Josh’s name. Thank you for your time, Mr. Ramsey.”
I stood and shook his outstretched hand.
“You’re welcome. Please take care.”
Security escorted him away just as Blakenship entered my office.
“Welcome back, Knox.”
I smiled softly, leaning on my cane with both hands.
“That’s five times already, which leads me to believe you’re not thrilled about my return.”
Blakenship sighed, and his shoulders slumped. His eyes guiltily landed on his loafers.
“I’m thrilled that you are safe—make no mistake about that.” His eyes snapped up, along with his posture. “I love this job more than I thought I would, and it has been my pleasure to serve as the acting CEO during your absence.”
I leaned harder onto my cane and smiled.
“The company has continued to flourish under your leadership. It was as if I never left,” I said, tapping the handle with a finger. I glanced around the room I had spent years of mylife in, and realized the accolades and awards, panoramic view, and designer furniture didn’t mean shit. It was all bullshit that I could live without.
