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“You could say so. I’ve always had a fear of flying. I’m terrible at it, and the irony is, I probably do it at least once a month. My doctor has helped by teaching me relaxation techniques, but truthfully, I’m used to popping a Xanax to help me relax. On longer flights, I usually take a sleeping pill.”
My hands shake and tingle, and I slide them under my thighs. “But this…this was so much worse. I thought we were going to die. It was like somebody’s idea of a sick joke. My worst fear coming true.”
In fact, in some strange way, I feel better for having told someone else, someone outside of my circle.
“Shit. I don’t have a fear of flying, but it would have scared me. I can’t imagine…” He runs a hand down his face.
“I wasn’t in a good place after. At first, I was in denial despite the nightmares and how the slightest loud noise or anything unstable, rattling…would send me into a panic attack. I was a disaster.” My head shakes violently from side to side, every single part of me rejecting the idea, and yet, this is progress.
Only weeks ago, I couldn’t even think about a plane, about getting on one, let alone say it.
“About a week after the emergency landing, I tried to get back on a plane and freaked out. I don’t remember much of it, but it was embarrassing.” I cover my face with my hand, but Tom pulls it away.
“Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Nothing.”
“You know, all I wanted was to go home. I even went so far as LAX, but the closer I got to having to board the plane… I just couldn’t.”
“This is why we’re driving, right?”
I nod and offer a weak smile. “I could’ve driven home sooner, but my father was in LA for business. When it was obvious that I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, he said he’d drive home with me if I waited. He’d already planned to be there for several weeks.”
My teeth nibble on my bottom lip and I shrug, no longer viewing my father’s overture as anything more than what it has turned out to be—an empty offering.
“So I did. I’m not sure if staying helped or not. I didn’t waste any time getting in to see a therapist. My doctor in Toronto helped with that. I had nothing else to do, so I went to daily sessions, including exposure therapy, determined to kick this fear. I’d never dealt with it before. Outside of that, I was alone a lot. My days consisted of lying around the hotel room.”
I want to tell him about Everly and the Raven Mission, but it’s a secret and too sacred to ruin it by telling the wrong person. Tom doesn’t feel like he can’t be trusted, but still…
“Leighton, I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say.” I hold his gaze and channel every ounce of conviction into my following words. “I will get over this. In my last session before leaving LA, the Friday before we met, I actually got on a plane.”
I half shiver at the memory of the achievement and half shrug. Maybe if I act like it wasn’t a big deal, I’ll one day believe that it’s no different from putting on your shoes.
A nervous laugh spills from me. “But I also knew that the plane wasn’t going anywhere. It was all part of the exposure therapy.” My fingers curl into a fist and I half-heartedly raise it in the air. “You know, face your fears and all that.”
“Hey, don’t downplay it. That sounds like progress and a big deal.”
“Thanks. If nothing else, I want to get back to where I was before this incident. At least then, I could get on a plane. I’m just not there yet.” I release a sigh and don’t bother to filter my thoughts. “Neither my father nor mother understood. They both think I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”
“A big deal? You experienced a traumatic event.”
An unpleasant yet lively snort springs from me. “Yeah, that’s what my therapist said, but my parents thought I was being unreasonable. Difficult.”
There’s that word again. If I had a dollar for every time Margot used it to describe me, I’d be a millionaire.
Tom fidgets in his chair, uncomfortable, and my bitterness comes out. “Oh my God, you agree with them, don’t you?”
“Uh, no. Not about this. You have every right to take your time with getting back on a plane. And I may not know you that well, but I know you will do it.” His sweet smile and the tender confidence in his voice cause me to relax a little. The knot in my stomach loosens.
“Okay, so if not this, then what?”
“What?”
“Don’t do that.” My finger waggles back and forth in front of him. “I’m not stupid. I saw the way you reacted. You obviously agree in some way that I’m difficult. Explain.”
“Um, I don’t think this is a good idea…” He attempts to slip away from the table, but I anticipate as much and grab his wrist.
He chuckles and slumps back into the chair, cheeks pale pink, and the blush suits him. If even possible, he looks more like a flirty boy than ever before.
