Chapter Thirty-Five Claire
Chapter Thirty-Five
Claire
When people would ask whether I could fly . . .
I always said, ‘Yes, for a little while.’
—MICHAEL JORDAN
The engines might as well have shut off with Nathan’s words. The cockpit goes still, our relationship status suspended in midair.
Could Nathan be talking about me? Desiree clarified earlier that he’s never had feelings for Angel, which makes me see all our interactions differently.
If he’d skipped church to avoid someone, it might have been me.
If he wasn’t interested in getting back with Joey and okay with closure, could it be because he’s more interested in me?
I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted this. And the fear of disappointment has made me cautious upon entry. I’m afraid to believe I’m the flight attendant he’s in love with, in case I’m not.
But if he is in love with me, he’s my Half Dome. He’s my better thing.
My stomach tickles from imaginary turbulence.
Wait. All this time he’d been encouraging me to create a healthy relationship with Wyatt. Why would he do that if he’s in love with me?
Besides the cupcake, he’s never gone out of his way to connect. He’s simply been here.
“You said you were praying for me and Wyatt.” Did I say that out loud? Now he’d know my assumption. Hopefully, we can laugh it off when he reveals it to be false.
“I wanted the best for you,” he states simply. Significantly. “Even if it’s not me.”
His words create a storm of emotions. Clouds obstruct my clarity, and a bolt of lightning sends my internal instruments haywire.
“Nathan,” I breathe. “You . . .” It’s all I can get out before my throat closes.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.”
Another sacrifice. He’s willing to tell me he loves me without expecting anything in return. He simply waited here for me to be in a healthy place to join him.
“I know you’re getting out of a relationship, and I probably should have waited until next year.” He glances at his watch, still playful even as he opens himself up for possible rejection.
I love him more for it.
The interphone chimes. Already?
Except it isn’t only Desiree’s voice on the line. Vincent’s deeper tone joins her in announcing, “Ten . . .”
Nathan and I don’t have much time left in the cockpit. It’s a literal countdown.
He winces. “I just—”
“Nine . . .” The passengers joined the chant.
I’ll let him off the hook. “You were affected by the romance of the stars.”
“Eight . . .”
My heart tugs me closer with every beat. “The magic of the islands.”
“Seven . . .”
The shadow of his head tilts in the dark.
“Six . . .”
“The fresh start of a new year,” I murmur.
“Five . . .”
“Or maybe . . .” The warmth of his whisper sends a shiver down my spine.
“Four . . .”
“ . . . I’m only trying to make things awkward between us so I don’t have to share my shaved ice when I win our bike race.”
“Three . . .”
My giggle spills into the tiny distance between our lips. “Then you’re failing miserably. Because I want to share a lot more than shaved ice.”
“Two . . .”
I can feel his grin rather than see it. His tone dips. “Anything else you want to do before you go?”
“Only . . .”
“One!” the entire plane finishes my sentence with me.
His mouth molds to mine. Later I might have to pull an oxygen mask down from the overhead compartments to catch my breath, but in this moment, the need for air comes second.
Without even realizing it, Nathan had been here for me all along.
And as he’s suggested since the day we met, God has been watching out for me too.
From allowing me to give bad directions to a passenger at the airport that kept her from traveling to a canceled wedding to helping me set healthy boundaries for my own relationship in the end.
Though maybe I should call this the beginning.
I’d arrived in Seattle not knowing what I was doing, and the truth is that I still don’t. I know how to arm airplane doors for departure. I know how to put on an oxygen mask. I know how to make a pot of coffee. I do not know what my future holds. But I’m not afraid anymore.
The worst part of this is that in a moment, I’m going to have to pull my fingers out of Nathan’s thick hair, leave the flight deck, and pick up trash.
The intercom chimes again. For real this time.
Nathan pulls away, but rather than press the button to unlock the door, he palms the side of my face. “This isn’t only a kiss for me, Claire. You know what I want, and if you don’t want that too, then—”
I hold a finger to his lips. “Home, Darling.”