Lies That Bind

Chapter Forty

SARA

"Good Morning, passengers of flight 637 to Los Angeles, California. We are currently fourth in line for take off. We ask that you please..."

My brain tunes out as the flight attendant finishes her speech. Seatbelt already securely around my waist and my tray table has remained in the upright position since boarding.

Can't say the same for the little girl and her father next to me though. He's having quite the time trying to get her to sit still for long enough to buckle in.

"I'm so sorry," he says over her head as she elbows me in the arm for the third time.

Numb to it all I flash a smile and say, "Don't worry about it."

"But, dad, I want the aisle seat so I can wave down the nice lady with the snacks!"

The father grumbles something under his breath. "If I switch seats with you will you put your seatbelt on and behave?"

"Mhmm!" she hums, swinging her feet with a grin.

"Okay, then get your butt up, squirt."

The pair exchange seats and she sticks to her word of behaving.

Josie, the little girl, falls asleep an hour into the flight and her father, Brett, blows out a breath of relief as soon as she does.

I do not envy him at all.

When the flight attendant comes around shortly after and asks if he'd like a drink or snack, he orders a double vodka on the rocks and a grape juice for Josie along with a bag of potato chips.

I decline on account of feeling like whatever I put in my stomach might make a reappearance.

The flight attendant hands him over his drink and he takes a quick sip, sighing in satisfaction as it slides down his throat.

I go back to looking out the window, watching the cities below come and go beneath the clouds. After a couple minutes Brett clears his throat. "Excuse me, miss?"

"Sara," I say, swinging my gaze over to him.

I get a good look at him for the first time and my heart does a little dip. He has kind eyes that remind me of James. Tattoos like Alec. And his smile is all Ty. He's the perfect amalgamation of all of them. "Do you need me to watch her while you go to the bathroom or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I just—" he scratches at his scruff covered jaw, rethinking his words. "I don't mean to overstep or anything, and please don't take this the wrong way, but you seem sad. Are you okay?"

I fiddle with the drawstring on my hoodie. "Not really."

"Not a fan of planes?"

A smile peaks out as I wet my lips. "The plane is the least of my problems right now."

"Boy troubles then?" Brett places his glass on the tray table in front of him.

I snicker. "He is very much not a boy, but it's a long story."

"Do you want to talk about it? I've got a passed out six year old and—" he checks his watch "—five hours to spare."

"I'm sure you'd change your mind as soon as I started talking."

"Try me."

"It's okay, really. We don't need to do this. I'll be fine."

"Come on. Please? I need some form of entertainment or I'm going to have to wake this one up," he says, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. "And I don't think anyone on this plane would appreciate that."