Page 8 of At First Flight
I let out a bitter breath, part laugh, part sob. “I didn’t even get to pick it. His mother did. Satin and lace and… expectations. My own family wasn’t involved.”
The memory crashes back, vivid and unrelenting. Standing on that platform, the seamstress pinning the hem while I stared at myself in the mirror. Except I didn’t recognize the woman staring back. I looked like a stranger in someoneelse’s fantasy. A perfectly dressed mannequin in a life that wasn’t mine.
My fingers twitch in Dean’s grasp, fidgeting like I need to escape even now. I shift in my seat, pulse fluttering. My throat burns with the effort not to cry again. I already cried in the dressing room. In the Uber. In the airport. I’m out of tears. At least, I should be.
“And while I stood there trying to breathe in a dress I didn’t choose, I got a text,” I say, eyes locked on a scratch in the tray table. “From a number I didn’t recognize.”
I blink hard.
“She sent me a photo of my fiancé. With her. At their own wedding. Apparently, he’s had another family this whole time.”
My voice splinters on that last word. The truth that’s been banging against the inside of my rib cage since it hit me like a freight train hours ago.
I sniff, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet hum of the plane.
“I didn’t scream. I didn’t confront him. I didn’t even think. I just…” My eyes dart up to meet his, and the kindness there nearly breaks me all over again. “I ran. Grabbed my stuff and booked the next flight out. I didn’t even care where it was going.
“His mom didn’t even try to stop me. She just let me run out the door. Which really just left me more confused at how she was involved. How his entire family was involved.”
The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It’s heavy and still.
I pull my hand back gently, needing space, needing air. I wrap my arms around my stomach like I’m trying to hold myself together, like I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll splinter apart at the seams.
I don’t tell him about the way my heart cracked open in that boutique. How it wasn’t just the betrayal but also the realization that I hadn’t been living my own life in months. Maybe years.
I don’t tell him about the shame or the anger that gnawed at my chest the entire ride to the airport. The humiliation of realizing I was never the main character in my own story. Just a supporting actress in his.
But something in Dean’s presence makes me want to. Makes the words itch beneath my skin.
“I don’t usually…” My voice is smaller now. “I don’t fall apart like this.”
Dean nods slowly like he understands. Like he knows more is beneath the surface, and he’s willing to wait me out. And somehow, that makes it easier to keep going.
“I think I’ve been pretending for so long, I forgot what it felt like to breathe for myself,” I whisper. “To do something reckless. Or stupid. Or free.”
And maybe that’s what this is—freedom. Messy, terrifying, unplanned freedom.
I glance at Dean, half expecting judgment, pity, or maybe even discomfort. But there’s none of that. Just quiet steadiness. Like he sees all of it, all ofme, and he’s not running.
Dean’s eyes soften as he reaches for my hand again. Like he needs the tether as much as I do. The feel of his thumb brushing back and forth against my knuckle soothes the rising anger that builds as I recall what led me to this point.
“What do you think you’re going to do next?”
Isn’t that the most terrifying question to consider? I have no idea what I’m doing next. Pretty certain in the midst of the mayhem I caused, I won’t have a job waiting for me. Or the luxury apartment I shared with my now ex.
After this spur-of-the-moment trip, I am going to be broke and homeless. And there is no way I’m crawling back to my parents' home. At least not right away.
Suddenly, a warmth spreads across my chin and jaw. Dean’s strong fingers caress my skin.
“Why the frown?”
Jerking my head from his hold, I turn my attention back to the movie screen. No need to share more of my upended life with this guy who looks like he walked out of a magazine spread.
“No reason.”
“Lila,” he sighs.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
