Chapter Seventeen
STILL REELING FROM her discovery, Diana stumbled as she walked through the airplane aisle. Laredo supported her by holding her elbow.
“Thanks,” she muttered and found her seat.
She looked up at him and found concern in his eyes. Maybe it was because she was extra vulnerable after a fresh wound and revealing her secret to him, but his worry for her nearly brought tears to her eyes. Was she, like the stray dog Tex had taken in, so starved for love she’d run to the first person who showed her kindness?
Then Laredo glanced over the aisle at the people already in their seats, his expression worried for a different reason. She followed his gaze to Rachel and Tex, then to Harris.
They all probably thought the same thing. She tensed. Was the person or persons who toppled a capstone toward her and later hit his vehicle among the passengers?
If so, who could that be?
The lanky guy with his gray cap drawn so low only his scruffy goatee was visible? He’d smelled of cigarettes when she’d passed him and muttered something in the gruff voice of a lifelong smoker.
The burly biker with biceps covered in tattoos? That guy had smelled of beer and gasoline.
Or someone she wouldn’t suspect at first, like the woman in a wide-brimmed scarlet hat and sunglasses in the row next to theirs? That passenger had a distinct floral perfume as if she’d doused herself in it. Diana hoped no allergic people were sitting near her, but several sneezes from a bald man beside the woman suggested that might not be the case. He wiped sweat from his head, sneezed again, then flagged down a flight attendant who took him to a different seat.
Or was it someone else entirely? Diana sighed. She’d have to leave it to Rachel to figure it all out. Because Diana was clueless. She nearly scoffed. Just like she’d been clueless about Adam’s infidelity. A knife turned inside her.
Her legs went weak, and she sank into her window seat and clicked her belt together. The cold air blew on her face, and she closed the vent, though now the perfume scent was even more nauseating. She rubbed her pulsing temples. Her head hurt from trying to figure it all out, but her heart hurt more from betrayal. And her entire being begged for the familiar oblivion to lessen the pain.
Laredo secured their bags in the overhead compartment and slipped into the seat next to her. “It’s going to be okay.”
It was so tempting to place her head on his shoulder, close her eyes, believe those words, and let his tenderness hug her as soft and warm as Grandma’s quilt. But that would be as much of an illusion as her marriage apparently had been.
Her gaze met his, torment meeting sunshine. “Do you truly believe that?” she whispered.
He seemed to consider his answer. “I believe God will work out everything for the better in the end.”
How would God work out for the better a missing friend, a broken heart, and a betrayed soul?
She didn’t ask because it wasn’t fair to lash out at him, especially considering how supportive he’d been.
Gutted like a proverbial fish, fatigued from her discovery, she’d leaned on him all the way to the plane. In many senses.
Had she leaned on him too much? Her parents taught her she should stand on her own two feet. And any time she’d asked Adam to spend more time with her after they’d married, he’d told her she’d become too clingy. That was usually followed up by a phone call from her mother-in-law, who’d repeated the words in a much harsher manner.
Did she push people away by clinging to them? She’d had so very few people in her life. The only safe place she’d known, the place where she could be vulnerable and shy without repercussions had been her grandmother’s lap. But Grandma was no longer here, and Diana was no longer six.
The pilot’s deep voice came over the speaker. “We’ll be taking off soon. Please buckle your seat belt. We hope you’ll have a pleasant flight.” He then described the weather at their destination, but it didn’t matter much to her.
Because the weather in her soul was a thunderstorm with more coming.
She gritted her teeth. Being suspended in the air put her ill at ease, one more excuse Adam had given her for why she shouldn’t join him on conference trips.
She snatched the handle for dear life.
Laredo placed his hand on hers, the effect immediately calming. “Statistically, flying is much safer than driving.”
A nervous chuckle escaped her lips. “No kidding, considering we were nearly run off the road.” Then she froze. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You... you don’t think that whoever tried to do it would do something to the plane, do you?” Guilt slammed into her. Could all these passengers be harmed because of her?
He squeezed her fingers as if to give her reassurance. “I’m sure if there was any risk of that, Marina and Rachel would’ve already contacted the airport authorities.”
A pretty young flight attendant with blonde hair knotted at her nape and a silk scarf knotted at the collar of her navy-blue uniform walked along the aisle, checking the seat belts and closing overhead compartments.
Diana’s stomach tightened, but not as painfully as before. Being able to rely on someone else eased the weight on her shoulders. Even if she felt guilty for doing it.
The pilot announced the takeoff, and the plane shook like a giant bird. It shifted forward, and she looked at the moving runway out the window.
“My parents always told me they were raising me as an independent, intelligent woman. Someone who didn’t need to rely on other people.” The airplane glided airborne, causing her ears to plug, and she moved her jaw to unplug them. She wanted to hear every word Laredo had to say.
“I admire that about you. But I also wish someone held and comforted that little girl—and that young teen, too.” His voice was tender, his breath a caress on her cheek.
“Thank you. Grandma comforted me. But not for long.” She resisted the urge to lean into that caress. But she didn’t remove her hand from his. Now that she was drowning in an ocean of sorrows, she needed the lifeline the connection to him provided to be able to stay on the surface. To be able to breathe.
So much for being independent.
“I’m sorry for your loss. All your losses.” His fingers caressed hers now, sending reassurance and delicious tingles over her skin.
“Not your fault.” She stared at the fields and buildings, rapidly getting smaller and smaller under the airplane wing. She was able to see a better picture of the city that way.
She was also able to see a better picture of her life now. It came at a painful cost as if she were seeing that picture through sharp glass that cut into her fingers and made them bleed. A part of her—a very insistent part—desperately wished for the oblivion of wine to smooth those sharp edges, to blur the picture, and to make the pain more bearable.
When it came to her profession, she did her job well. But in her personal life, she’d never been enough.
Her eyes prickled, and she blinked away tears. Looking at the world through a curtain of tears would make things blurrier, as well. But she couldn’t afford it. For her friend’s sake, for Laredo’s, and for her own, she needed a sharp focus on things, and that apparently came with edges that cut deeply.
“I know you’re capable and independent. And I know it’s not easy to allow someone to carry our burdens for us.” His voice lifted. “I struggled with you driving me around and doing things for me while my shoulder healed. Male pride and all. But I knew it was best to accept your assistance. And I’m grateful for your help.”
“Please. You were the one who dropped everything and carried my burdens around for me. Even risked your life.” Remorse needled her. She was supposed to be healing wounds, not causing them.
Sitting in silence, she blinked at the clouds below the plane. It was one of the rare times she saw clouds below her and not above her. Both times, though, they looked like balls of cotton that beckoned as if soft to the touch. Once again, like many other things in her life, it was only an illusion.
She closed the window shade and turned to him. Was the compassion and affection in his eyes also an illusion she’d created for herself? She’d thought Laredo to be genuine, but then, she’d thought Adam’s love genuine, as well.
“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.” Laredo leaned toward her, making the small distance between them even smaller. Giving her a whiff of his clean aftershave scent that wreaked havoc on her senses. “And I’ll stand by you as long as you allow me. But maybe you also should try to surrender your burdens to God. Let Him carry them for you.”
God didn’t seem to want her burdens.
She’d thought she’d had her hands full with her job and her commitment to making Adam happy, then with her grief and addiction struggles. But now, with Pat missing, someone being after them, and Diana’s heart in shambles, well, even more weight pressed her shoulders.
Grandma was a believer, but when heartbroken Diana had tried to talk about God to her parents after Grandma’s death, seeking reassurance, they’d told her Diana should be responsible for her own actions. Not pawn them off on someone else. God had never been mentioned in their household again.
Laredo’s family seemed to be the opposite. But then, it was opposite hers in many senses. Just like Laredo seemed to be the opposite of Adam.
Why hadn’t she met someone like Laredo years ago? When she wasn’t broken, damaged, and a few glasses away from becoming like her grandfather? Or would he tire of her like Adam had?
“How could I be so blind?” she blurted out. “Now that I look back, there were signs. The fact that he didn’t want me to travel with him. How he was quite the ladies’ man before marrying me. Sometimes he smelled like perfume when coming home, and I told myself I imagined it.” She could still smell that tangy perfume. “He turned over his phone any time I passed by.”
Now that her rose-tinted glasses of trust were broken and she held them in bleeding hands, she could see things she hadn’t before. Correction: things she didn’t want to see before. Had been too scared to see. All the more reason she craved to see the world through a glass of rosé now, full and unbroken.
His fingers laced through hers. “You weren’t blind. You trusted the person who vowed to stay true to you. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Love, trust, and cherish the person we marry.”
“Yes, but... but did he cheat because I wasn’t making him happy? Because I wasn’t enough for him? I can’t even ask him. Can’t have the proper closure. I’ll never know.” Her eyes burned again, but somehow, she managed to keep her voice down. No need to have other people hear the drama in her life.
Laredo unbuckled his seat belt, cradled her hand, and leaned to her. His gaze bored into her with an intensity she’d never seen before. “Are you kidding me? Any man would be honored to have a wife like you.”
At other times, she’d be thrilled to hear such words, but now she didn’t dare to believe it. Adam had told her similar words when he’d proposed. “You’re just saying it, but thank you.” Did she become a skeptic now?
A muscle moved in his jaw. “I’m not just saying it.” He emphasized every word. “But... I have no right to.”
“You’re an honorable man. A good man.” Probably too good to be true, but if he was true, then he deserved a different person than she was. A devoted Christian with a positive outlook. Not a brokenhearted woman with fledgling faith who craved a bottle every waking moment. Not even just every waking moment because she saw luscious wine glasses in her dreams sometimes. Maybe one day when she knew she could turn her life around... Well, he’d be married with children by then.
“We should talk about something else.” Something besides the mountain of issues she’d buried herself under.
He visibly swallowed. “I probably shouldn’t ask this, but in light of recent events... I mean, my father’s death was ruled a suicide, but we had doubts. And considering that my father wasn’t faithful, angry husbands got into fights with him. Saylor recalled overhearing one as a child. What I’m trying to say... There wasn’t anything suspicious in Adam’s death, was there?”
Taken aback, she blinked and blinked again. When she suggested a change of topic, this wasn’t what she had in mind. “You mean, Noah, the husband of the woman Adam cheated with, could wish him harm? Or...” The lump in her throat grew. “There could be others. But Adam died of a heart attack. Of course, he was too young for that, but... well, it’s not exactly a convenient way to murder someone, is it?”
Yet something about the day Adam died needled her. Something she’d forgotten. Or didn’t want to remember. Just like she hadn’t wanted to see the signs of his infidelity.
Her eyes widened. What if Laredo was right? What if she’d missed important signs about her husband’s death? And now she was flying right back into the wasp’s nest and taking Laredo and some of his family members with her.
Guilt nearly made her jump out of her seat. Okay, maybe not just guilt.
The plane shook again, and the pilot announced, “We’re experiencing some turbulence. Please remain seated and fasten your seat belts.”
With obvious reluctance, Laredo let her hand go and buckled his seat belt. The plane shook a third time, which matched her shaken-up condition. She still didn’t know where Pat was and whether she was even alive or why Diana and Laredo had been targeted. And now she wasn’t sure of things about Adam, including the way he died.
There was turbulence, indeed. Only hers wouldn’t end when the plane landed.