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Edna, never one to miss an opportunity to snark, couldn't resist. "Oh, yes," she said with a sly grin, "But I’ve made a few improvements to the recipe. That's why it's so much better now."
Blake couldn't help but burst into laughter as the women started arguing over the cookie recipe.
I couldn't help but smile too, munching away at the cookie. It was delicious, and the love and laughter in the cabin was contagious. In that moment, surrounded by these women…I suddenly felt a whole lot better.
Maybe sugar cookies didn’t have to be ruined either.
6
Blake
As the plane began its descent into New York City, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the window, my emotions in turmoil. The city sprawled beneath me, a vast, glittering expanse of lights and memories, a place that held both the promise of excitement and the weight of painful history.
I hadn't set foot in this city since I had run away—run away from the Shepfields, from Clark, and from a life that had become suffocating. The memories that resided here were a tangled web of joy and sorrow, and I wasn't sure how to unravel them.
I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, feeling a mixture of anxiety and anticipation gnawing at my insides. Ari had surprised me with this trip because I’d told him the other week that there was no place like New York for Christmas—that it was the only thing about New York I missed. He was trying to give me whatever I wanted, just like he always did.
But the past still lingered, like a shadow that refused to fade. The city's skyline, so iconic and breathtaking, felt like a constant reminder of everything I had left behind. I could almost hear the echoes of conversations, the laughter, and the tears that had once filled the streets.
The plane continued its descent, bringing me closer to the city that had shaped me in so many ways–not for the better. The familiar landmarks came into view—the towering skyscrapers, the bustling streets, and the twinkling lights of Times Square.
I took a deep breath, trying to push aside the apprehension that clung to me like a second skin.
The wheels of the plane touched down, and Monroe bounced around in her seat excitedly. I pretended to be excited too. I didn’t want to ruin the trip for her, or for anyone.
I made a silent promise to myself that I would embrace this opportunity. Ari was my superman. I was pretty sure that with him by my side, I could conquer anything.
Even the ghosts of my past.
We said goodbye to Edna and Mabel and stepped off the plane. There was a sleek, black limousine waiting for us just a short walk away.
The limo gleamed in the afternoon sun, its polished exterior reflecting the vibrant cityscape around us. The chauffeur, a woman of course, dressed in a crisp black suit, stood by the open door, ready to greet us with a warm smile.
We climbed into the plush interior of the limo, sinking into the soft leather seats that cradled us in comfort. The scent of leather and polished wood filled the air, adding to the sense of opulence. Tinted windows shielded us from the bustling world outside, creating a cocoon of privacy in the midst of the city's chaos.
“I’m never going to get used to this,” Monroe said in awe, accepting the glasses of sparkling cider that the driver handed to her before she closed the door. Ari had told me she didn’t drink very much, if at all, so the cider made sense. I was grateful mine was champagne, though. I needed some liquid courage at the moment.
“Get used to what?”
“This,” she laughed, gesturing around her. “I’m in a limo…after just getting off a private plane. Drinking from a fancy glass. On my way to watch my rich hockey player husband play in front of thousands. It’s…surreal.” The end of her sentence came out as a whisper.
I scooted closer and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s freaking awesome, right? How lucky are we?”
She grinned. “Yeah. It isfreakingawesome.”
We sipped our drinks as we drove through Manhattan. A million memories in my head.
The towering skyscrapers reached for the sky, their glass facades reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display.
Yellow taxis weaved in and out of traffic, while pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, lost in their own world. We passed by the Empire State Building, and Central Park…all bathed in the golden light of late afternoon.
There was a different energy here than in L.A., a constant vibrant, pulsating heartbeat that hit me in my gut.
And then I saw it. The Metropolitan Museum.
The sight of it hit me like a tidal wave. The memories of that day, of running down those steps, came rushing back, and it was almost incomprehensible how much my life had changed since that moment.
It was incredible how a single decision, one word spoken in a moment of clarity and desperation, had completely reshaped my world.
