CHAPTER 18
The flight attendant pushed the refreshment cart up the aisle, and I ordered a ginger ale. I was feeling sick from the stress, the worry, and the recirculated air. I turned toward the window. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a window seat, but I was able to catch a glimpse past my neighbor’s shoulder. The Atlantic was spread out beneath us like an endless blue carpet. I was on my way home, leaving Scotland and Payton behind me.
The thought of never coming back made my stomach lurch. Thinking about Payton was so painful. I’d left his car at the airport. Would he ever pick it up, I wondered. I told myself I didn’t care. I had enough to do just trying to breathe in and out—the pain was that deep.
Never before had I been in love, never had I kissed a boy. I’d wanted to wait for that right person at just the right moment. What a stupid idiot I’d been! Payton had lied to me the whole time, right from the moment we met. And when I found out what he’d done—who he’d been, and worst of all, who he still was—my beautiful memories were destroyed in one blow. I had been so naive.
I wiped away my tears, and the elderly woman next to me patted my hand soothingly. “Oh, sweetie, you don’t need to worry. Flying is the safest way to travel!”
I sniffed and nodded. Then I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. The other passengers’ quiet conversations would normally have comforted me, but on this flight they were driving me crazy. I tossed and turned, trying unsuccessfully to forget that handsome Scottish face with the crescent-shaped scar on his chin.
Mo luaidh. My darling. That’s what he had called me. Without anticipating that I would get Roy to tell me what it meant. I wondered why he had said that to me, if he didn’t really care.
I shook my head. It didn’t matter; I could never forgive him.
Thankfully, Roy and Alison had bought my story: some urgent family business had come up, something about my grandma’s estate and a pack of lawyers. Sadly, I had to go back home a week earlier than expected. I changed my flight, packed up my suitcase, and said my heartfelt good-byes. Roy had offered to drive me to the airport, but I declined. I desperately wanted to spend those last few moments in Payton’s car, to feel him close to me, to smell his scent.
Uncomfortably dry air blew down on me. I reached for my scarf, but it had disappeared. Oh, that’s right, I recalled—I’d stuffed it into Payton’s backpack after I’d taken it off his wound. I vaguely remembered that his backpack was still in his car.
That really sucked. It had been my favorite scarf.