Chapter 59 Tilda
Tilda
“We’re going to start our descent.”
I jolt at the sound of Ethan’s voice.
We’ve spent the last couple hours flying over mountainous terrain, not talking. Ethan focused on flying. I focused on getting through the day.
My fingers pluck at my skirt.
“Matilda,” he says quietly.
Keeping my stress hidden behind my dark lenses, I finally turn to look at Ethan, wishing there was a longer version of his name like there is for mine, so I can have something else to call him. “What’s your middle name?”
“Ford.”
I purse my lips. “Family name?”
He nods.
“Car company?”
He shakes his head. “Different family.”
“Spaceships?”
His lips twitch as he shakes his head again.
“Mother’s maiden name?”
“No, but it came from her side. Every male born has it somewhere in their name. Supposedly.”
I hum. “Is Grant your last name? I saw it on your shirt.” I hadn’t noticed the first time we met. But I saw it the second time.
He nods again. “What’s your middle name, Matilda Wright?”
“Iris.” Unclenching my fingers from my dress, I reach up and touch one of my purple curls.
“It’s a pretty flower.” His voice is so soft, his words so gentle.
I purse my lips on an exhale. “Ethan Ford, tell me you’ll land us smoothly.”
He reaches over the gap between our seats and wraps his fingers around my wrist. “Matilda Iris, I’m going to land us smoothly.” He pulls my hand toward him, setting it on his thigh.
Ethan releases my wrist, taking the controls in both hands, but I leave my palm where it is.
And I close my eyes.
I close my eyes to the ground below us.
Close them on the situation before me.
Close them, just for now, while I gather my courage.
And when our tires meet the ground, I take one more breath in the dark.
One last breath before the next part.