Chapter 10
SADIE
The late afternoon light filtered through the skylights of the museum, casting golden streaks across the rows of aircraft, making each plane seem larger than life, their shadows stretching long across the concrete floor like the ghosts of aviation’s past. I stood alone in the center of the hangar, the silence almost comforting in its familiarity.
I had grown accustomed to the isolation, even leaned into it, letting my thoughts drift like the dust motes floating lazily through the sunbeams.
The museum had become my sanctuary, a place where the complexity of my life seemed to fade, where I could exist simply as Sadie, the woman who loved restoring old machines and sharing their history with anyone who cared to listen.
There was no pressure here, no corporate expectations, no Alyssa. Just me and the planes.
But the peace I had tried to find over these last few weeks was fleeting.
The heavy, nagging doubt was still there, whispering at the edges of my thoughts.
I thought I’d get more time. Time to settle, time to figure out the shape of my future without Patrick.
Instead, the space I had carved out for myself felt more like a cage every passing day, a beautiful but restrictive space that kept me from truly moving on.
The Tin Goose sat at one end of the restoration bay, vexing me with its presence.
I wanted nothing more than to give it the totality of my focus, but it wasn’t just my marriage that seemed intent on keeping me from giving it the care and love the plane deserved.
It felt like the museum itself was working against me, finding more fires to put out and forcing my attention away from this work of art that needed me.
I hadn’t spoken to Patrick since our last disastrous conversation, though he’d continued to call, his messages growing more frantic, more pleading as the days wore on.
I had refused to pick up, deleted his texts without reading them, trying to maintain a fragile distance between us.
Every buzz from my phone made my shoulders tighten, a reminder that no matter how hard I tried to bury myself in my work, the wreckage of our relationship was still very much alive, still demanding to be reckoned with.
I didn’t know how to fix it. And right now, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.
The hurt was too raw, the anger too persistent to push past. I thought Patrick was finally realizing his mistake, but realization wasn’t enough.
It wouldn’t erase what had happened, wouldn’t fix the fundamental rift between us.
Maybe some marriages could survive betrayal, but ours wasn’t one of them.
Not as things stood now. Not until he proved to me he’d changed.
With a deep breath, I forced myself back into the moment, trying to focus on the restoration plan for the Tin Goose.
Its rivets and paneling needed love, patience, the kind of care I had so willingly given before everything had fallen apart.
But today, even this beloved task couldn’t hold my attention.
My thoughts kept drifting, circling back to what-ifs and maybes, replaying every moment where I’d felt sidelined, every word spoken or unspoken that had brought us to this point.
I went over Ellen’s work with the P-38, the last of it coming to its conclusion.
The work that needed to be done on the Trimotor was extensive.
There wasn’t an experienced mechanic working at rates the museum could pay under current budget restrictions.
I could thank Alyssa for that one. One of many things I blamed her for.
Part of me wondered why I hadn’t learned my lesson with her when I suggested Patrick hire her, giving her an opportunity after her restaurant failed.
Alyssa always took things from me. She always wanted the spotlight.
It didn’t matter if I wanted the some light for myself or not.
With her, she always grabbed it. I just didn’t think my husband would become complicit, giving away what was rightfully mine.
Even after Patrick admitted fault for the press release, even after he had been so earnest with his attempts at apologies, something was still wrong.
Something was still keeping me from reaching out to him again, from trying to rebuild.
Maybe the hole had gotten too big to bridge, or maybe I was just too tired to keep trying when it seemed like I was the only one making the effort.
My eyes were so lost in the worn metal of the Trimotor’s fuselage that I almost didn’t hear the footsteps behind me.
I thought maybe it was one of the last volunteers leaving for the day, another employee staying late as was our routine during this time of year.
When I glanced back, though, I froze in place.
Alyssa stood there in the shadows of the doorway, a sneer curling at the edges of her mouth.
Her usually immaculate hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a wild, almost unhinged glint in her eyes.
“Well, look who’s all cozied up with the relics of the past. It’s so fitting, don’t you think?
” Her voice dripped with mockery as she strolled deeper into the hangar.
I clenched my fists, a reflexive response to the sight of her.
“What are you doing here, Alyssa? The museum is about to close.” I had told the staff to turn her away if she showed up, but I was used to Alyssa finding a way around barriers I set.
It’s why we had installed security cameras, and I wondered if she even knew we’d added that additional security.
She waved my concern away with a flick of her wrist, as if my authority in this space was irrelevant. “You’re the one who should leave. This place. is pathetic, Sadie. Just a bunch of old junk for people to gawk at while your real achievements get pushed aside.”
I bit my tongue, my stomach tightening at the venom in her tone. “If you think that, why are you here? This is my world, Alyssa. You’re not welcome.”
Her smile was sharp, dangerous. “You think you own something just because you play with it? This isn’t your world.
It never was. The only reason anyone even knows who you are is because of Holbrook.
Because of me.” She took another step forward, and I held my ground, unwilling to back down despite the cold dread curling at the base of my spine.
“And you know what? He’s done with you. I’m just here to make sure you understand that. ”
My breath caught. “Patrick sent you here to do what, exactly? Finish what he couldn’t? To make me feel small again?” My voice trembled despite my efforts to stay calm. She always knew exactly how to push my buttons, a skill she had perfected long before Patrick ever entered the picture.
Alyssa let out a laugh that was more a bark than anything else, the sound grating in the open hangar. “He doesn’t have to send me. I know you’re too proud to see it, but you lost. I’m the one he’s coming home to now.”
The words struck harder than I anticipated, my chest tightening as the familiar sting of her superiority wrapped itself around my throat. I swallowed hard, trying to shake off the impact, reminding myself that she thrived on lies and manipulation. “You’re delusional if you believe that.”
“Am I?” She stepped closer, pulling something out of her handbag and tossing it toward me.
I fumbled to catch it, my fingers brushing the smooth pink surface of a plastic stick that seemed too small to contain such devastating information.
At first, in the dim hangar light, it meant nothing to me, just another object thrown to disrupt my peace.
But when I realized what I was holding, my world tilted on its axis.
A pregnancy test. Two bright, glaring pink lines staring back at me, impossible to misinterpret, each line a fresh wound cutting through me as Alyssa’s triumphant smile burned in my peripheral vision.
“Surprise,” she said with venom-laced sweetness.
I stared down at the positive pregnancy test in my hands. My mind seemed to move in slow motion as I considered the possibilities. “You’re pregnant?”
Alyssa’s smirk grew into a full-blown sneer, the victory on her face practically gleaming. “With Patrick’s child.”
It felt like the ground had dropped out from under me.
My knees nearly buckled as the weight of her words sank in, crushing whatever air had been left in my lungs.
I had known Patrick had gotten too close to her, that their work had overlapped in dangerous ways, but this...
This was unimaginable. A child, a family, everything I thought was between us. How could he keep such a thing from me?
“You’re lying,” I whispered, though the conviction in my voice wavered, cracking under the weight of doubt that sprouted with terrifying speed in my mind.
The hangar, my sanctuary, suddenly felt like a cage, the metal walls closing in as the realization took root, its barbed tendrils gripping my heart with crushing force.
She tilted her head, enjoying my disbelief like a cat toying with a cornered mouse.
“I came straight from the office. I just finished telling him. He’s overjoyed, knowing he gets to be part of creating a life, something he never got to do with you, even after all these years.
He doesn’t have to keep pretending he’s happy with whatever you two were. ”
The words were poison, but I forced myself not to crumble, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.
“I don’t believe you,” I said, more to myself than to her.
My mind raced, scrambling for a way to reconcile what I was holding with what I thought I knew. Had Patrick known? Had he and Alyssa?