The Perfect Storm 2

Chapter 175

"W . . . what?" I shake my head, I feel dizzy, numb and something else I don't know the word for. The woman takes a deep breath, before tugging her deep and dark-colored hair out of her face.

 She rests her hands on her knees but all I can look at is her long red nails and gold ring on her ring finger. She looks down at her hands and all of a sudden the heaviness of the airplane sinks in. Everything feels so heavy, the plane, my shoulder, my feet; everything. 

The clouds outside are no longer visible and instead, it's replaced with fog, lots and lots of deep gray fog.

"I didn't expect to see you here . . ." She stops herself, her eyes darting back up to mine. The red of her lips are perfect and so is her manicure, she doesn't seem like the kind of person Pamela is and definitely not like someone who would beg for Madison's envelope.

"I'm sorry I caught you by surprise." She says even quieter than before.

"I'm sorry . . ."I repeat her words.

"But what the fuck did you just say?" my eyes slightly squint at the bullshit that's spilling out of her mouth. She takes an even deeper breath and I clench my jaw, not sure if I want to hear more of this bullshit, it's not true. 

I've seen my birth certificate, I've been raised by only two people in my life and I look like my father and my mother no matter how fucked up they are, I know I'm theirs. I raise a hand into the air and press a button to call a flight attendant over.

"Miles." She puts her hand on mine but I quickly flick mine out of there, as if I'm being burned by her touch.

"Please, let me explain." She begs and I can see the begging not only in her words but in her glossy eyes. She hasn't touched her wine and neither have I and just as I notice, she mentions it, "Don't you want to drink the wine?" She asks sweetly but my eyes aren't on her to see if her facial expression matches her voice. 

My eyes rest on the front of the plane, as I wait for the flight attendant to approach. I see a glimpse of her and I drown the wine into my throat, before placing the cup back down on the tray table. I look at the woman next to me and something doesn't feel right. 

She sits there, staring at me, her red lips peering at me as her tongue glides over her teeth before she finally offers me a kind smile.

"Please, Mies." She tells me again but I don't want to hear it; any of it. I want to leave, get the fuck out of here.

"Everything okay, sir?" The flight attendant asks and I can't help but flash her a small smile, knowing that my new 'mother' is about to leave.

"No, actually, I don't know this woman. And I would appreciate to be able to sit alone, in my chair."

"Ma'am, can I please see your ticket?" The flight attendant asks.

"There's no need." The woman next to me smiles.

"I was just here, talking to my son, but I'm finished now. I'll be getting back to my seat . . ." She stands up and says, "You can pour out the wine, I shouldn't be drinking anyway." Before she sits down behind me again. 

The flight attendant nods, taking her cup and pressing the tray table back to the seat in front of me. I take a deep breath and rest my head on the chair but it doesn't take long before I feel the need to cough but it's different, it's painful and it's staying in my throat, forcing my lips shut. 

I get on my feet even though the flight attendant is trying to get my attention to sit back down. I finally manage to get into the bathroom and lock myself in. My hands are holding the sink tightly, as I lean over, feeling sick; completely and utterly fucking sick.