Chapter One
Mazzy
Five Years Ago
Thiswasthefirsttime I’d ever wanted to throw in the towel.
Lie on the floor and let myself be absorbed into the earth. Though the tiles and layers of concrete might have gotten in the way of that.
Drat.I couldn’t even mentally fall apart without overthinking it.
If only I’d overthought Daniel.
Then I wouldn’t have been in New Zealand, stranded at the airport, trying as hard as I could not to cry in front of strangers.And there were a lot of them—in line behind me, on either side of me, checking in for their flights.
Focusing on something other than the myriad ways Daniel had screwed me, I quickly did mental math, calculating New Zealand dollars into American…
“Two thousand dollars?” Oh, the tears were coming. My poor bank account was already weeping.
The ticket agent stared back at me impassively. Something told me she didn’t get paid enough to feel sorry for me.
Still, I had to try. “Is there no other flight? Anything…cheaper? I—” I had to swallow around the lump in my throat. “I just found out my boyfriend has been cheating on me with his ex for our entire relationship, and I really need to get home to my dad.”
She blinked, then proceeded to tap on her keyboard, all while shaking her head.
“You see, I didn’t even want to come to New Zealand.” Her typing paused, so I rushed to add, “Not that it’s not a beautiful country. Itis. Well, I assume it is. We only made it as far as baggage claim before I found the messages between him and his ex. He told her he was here with his sister and he’d see her as soon as he got home. He told her helovesher.”
The ticket agent looked up for a moment, narrowed her eyes, and sighed before going back to typing.
I carried on. “He flew me here on a friends-and-family pass. His dad’s a pilot. Do you know the statistics of pilots who cheat? I don’t know the exact percentage, but it’s high. I thought his dad was a nice guy. Then again, I thought Daniel was too. Like father, like son, I guess. Not that I know his father cheats, but he probably does, with a son like that. Daniel tried to convince me to stay and talk it out, but I couldn’t even bear to look at him. And I’m sotired. I haven’t slept in…well, I don’t know what time it is. To be honest, I’m feeling a bit delirious. But I can’t stay here, right? I have to go back.”
My stomach lurched. This wasn’t going to turn out how I’d been hoping, but I refused to cry. Not yet. These tears were waiting to be shed in my father’s arms.
The ticket agent looked up again. “There’s nothing I can do.” At least she’d said it in her lovely New Zealand accent, somewhat softening the blow of having to spend almost the entirety of my bank account on a flight home. At this point, I might have sold a kidney—anything to end this trip from hell.
“Okay. Well…thank you for checking.” I passed her my debit card, which was already shriveling into a raisin from being sucked dry. “Maybe I can sue my ex for emotional damage,” I muttered.
The guy at the counter beside me chuckled, and I looked over—and up, up,up. He was so tall, I had to crane my neck to see his face, and oh, what a face it was. Of course he was gorgeous, with an impossibly square jaw and lively brown eyes. And grinning right at me, showing off absolutely perfect teeth, not hiding the fact he’d been listening to my breakdown.
“I’m a mess,” I explained unnecessarily.
“Seems like it,” he agreed, reaching down to grab his leather carry-on. Upright, he strolled past me, pausing to wink. “A cute mess, though.”
I watched him go. At least a head taller than everyone else, his curly brown hair stood out, making it take a while for him to disappear into the crowd.
When I turned back, my ticket agent was in conference with the agent beside her. They waved in the direction the handsome giant had gone then at me, shaking their heads. The neighboring agent smiled pityingly at me, and I took it. Normally, I didn’t like to be pitied, but I could use it right now.
My agent returned and smiled, sliding my debit card across the desk to me. “No worries, love, your ticket has been taken care of.”
My brows rose in slow motion. “What do you mean?”
She got to typing again. “It’s been paid for. You don’t owe anything.”
I was too exhausted to wrap my head around what she was saying. I looked at my debit card. It was intact, but that didn’t mean my bank account hadn’t been sucked dry.
“Paid for…by me?”
She laughed and bustled around behind her desk, printing a boarding pass and sliding it into an envelope. Then she showed it to me, told me my gate and boarding time, and wished me a nice flight. All without explaining what she meant.
