Page 11 of Reconnected Hearts
Luckily, just as she’s about to tear into me, the static of an announcement over the loudspeakers distracts her.
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, ladies and gentlemen, but we’ve just received word that we’re grounded for the foreseeable future. It’s looking like the weather won’t be clearing up until tomorrow at the very earliest. Not to worry, though. We’re gonna get y’all off this plane and there will be escorts waiting to charter everyone to a hotel nearby for the night, which will be taken care of by the airline. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”
My heart falls into my stomach.
After all of the effort, all I’ve endured, I’mstillgoing to miss my job interview.
I’m starting to become convinced that maybe Iamthe worst person in the entire world. Maybe Lucy is right. That’s the only explanation for what I could have done to deserve this.
Tears brim at my eyes out of the anger, frustration, and heartbreak I’m once again experiencing. I bury my face in my hands and let my fingers get tangled in my hair, remaining grounded only by the vaguely painful tugs of my nails catching against my scalp.
“Noah?” I hear Lucy ask quietly, “It’s not so bad, they’ll get us on another flight tomorrow and whatever it is that you’re travelling for I’m sure-”
I’m at the end of my rope.
“Whatever it is...?!” I snap to look up at her, my teeth bared. “You’ve got no idea what is happening in my life. You said it yourself - we don’t know each other.” I spit the words out, knowing I'll regret them later but unable to stop. “Isn’t this what you wanted? My karmic freakin’ payback for being a shitty person? Well, you got it, Lucy. I got my punishment. I’m gonna miss my interview and be stuck at both of my dead-end jobs for the rest of my life. I’ll work seventy hours a week until my heart gives out. It probably still won’t be enough, though. Because even now, I’m barely making ends meet. My family’s gonna lose their house again. My sisters are gonna go to school in tattered clothes and be bullied just like I was, no matter how hard I work to make itdifferentfor them. I’m gonna starve because I can’t afford groceriesandstudent loan payments, but it doesn’t really matter anyway because my credit is already shot to hell, and the only place that will rent to me is a crappy, mold-infested shithole downtown. So, hey—” I laugh sardonically and throw my hands in the air—“at least I’ll probably win a lawsuit against our crap city when I become too sick to work anymore someday.”
Lucy’s eyes soften.
“I-I obviously don’t want that…” she stammers.
Suddenly, I get it now. I understand her anger when I tried to apologize. It’s infuriating to see her look at me like that. Pitying me.
I don’t want your pity, Lucy.
I’d rather listen to her scream at me for hours on end than have her looking at me like this for another second. In one swift motion, I unbuckle my seatbelt and push myself out of my seat. I start down the narrow walkway, and I hear her call after me. Some primal instinct makes me freeze, but I don’t turn around to look at her sat in the seat. I can’t. My chest heaves like I’ve just run a marathon.
A flood of guilt fills me from the outburst but my throat is tight and I can’t find the words to apologize.
I wait for her to say something—anything.I wait for her to pick a fight or call me a loser or laugh at me, but she doesn’t make a sound.
My breath rattles, and I take off, my knees wobbling beneath me.
CHAPTER7
LUCY
Idon’t know why I tried to be nice to Noah. He certainly doesn’t deserve it, and I could’ve guessed that it would come back to bite me in the ass. But something about his sad, pitiful face made me want to fix it—to fixhim, which is utterly ridiculous. I am not the type of girl to fix a boy.
Ugh.
His dumb, dumb,dumbface. His dumb, perfectly proportioned, between-green-and-brown eyes full of sadness and tears. His dumb, shaggy, perfect, honey-blond hair framing his head like a freaking halo. His dumb dimples when he frowns?—
Oh God, thedimples.
A prick like Noah should not be allowed to look so boyishly handsome. It’s got to be a trick to make me feel guilty. He’s evolved to look socutethat I can’t stand to hate him.
Well, the joke’s on him; I learned my lesson. I am above his charms. No matter how deep the little crease between his brow becomes or how sparkly his eyes—that are actually a bit more pale green than brown in the right lighting—look. I am strong. I am brave. I am Lucy Marino, and I will notbe manipulated by any man—especially not Noah Laurier.
The flight attendants make their way down the aisle one-by-one, offering some complementary food and drinks while assisting any guests who may be confused about this whole “stuck” situation. One of the male flight attendants a few rows behind me is in the middle of a one-sided argument with an older gentleman who seems determined to make it to Providence by morning. I don’t think I can stand to listen to the poor flight attendant try to explain that he can't control the weather for another second. I start to put on headphones with the intent to drown out this miserable night, but one of the female flight attendants stops by my row, and since Noah is off pouting somewhere, I’m the only one here to talk to her.
“Is everything alright, ma’am?” she asks me, her smile bright and unbothered, her tone pleasant. “Your husband left in quite a hurry. He’s not feeling sick, is he?”
“Husband?” I echo, my face subconsciously scrunching up in disgust. “Noah? No, no, he’s not?—”
“Oh, good, I’m glad. I was worried for a moment” She smiles. “Can I get either of you a beverage?”
“Um…n-no. No thank you.”
