Chapter 19
SADIE
“Come to bed.”
Those were the words that had resulted in me waking up next to Patrick.
I missed his presence, his warmth. I hated to admit how much.
After everything I went through, it seemed so ridiculous to feel such a desire for him in bed.
The sex wasn’t even the point. It was all the rest. He made the bed feel like home.
And as I rolled onto my back and looked up at the ceiling of our bedroom, the light streaming in through the curtains just enough to let me see the room clearly, I had a realization.
I was no longer the Sadie who had doubted him.
I didn’t wonder what he was up to behind my back or what ulterior motives he might have.
That had died with his dedication to restoring my beloved Ford Trimotor, though it wasn’t only the work he put in that proved to me that he could change.
He could also be selfless, considerate of my feelings, and present for me in a way he never had been before.
It took him going so far down a different path to truly find the person who he had always wanted to be, or that I always wanted him to be.
And seeing that was what brought us closer together.
But I wasn’t about to put our marriage back on its normal pedestal just because things were better.
We were nearing normal, but pain took time to heal.
And even though Patrick hadn’t meant to hurt me, he had, even if most of it was really Alyssa’s doing.
I hadn’t spoken to her since her attempt to convince me Patrick and her had an affair.
Her secret baby. I didn’t even know if she was actually pregnant.
It all could have been a ruse just to get me to push Patrick away.
I just never imagined she would go to such extremes to get revenge.
If there was anyone deserving of enacting revenge, it was me, but I had always held myself to a higher standard, even if there was a part of me that wanted to burn her life to the ground.
I turned to see Patrick next to me in bed, his bare chest rising and falling as he slept soundly, his body completely at ease, though it hadn’t always been that way.
The man lying next to me looked peaceful, no tension marring his forehead or jaw, and I couldn’t help the smile that formed as I watched him.
He had changed so much in the last few weeks.
I liked to think I’d had a part in that.
But there was more to it. He wanted this to work, and he had proven it in ways he never had before.
Careful not to wake him, I slipped out of bed.
I didn’t want to disturb the peace of the morning.
Instead, I padded into the bathroom to shower and start getting ready for what would be a big day.
Today was the day for the Tin Goose’s first test flight since we had begun the restoration work, and my nerves were already buzzing in anticipation.
When I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself, Patrick was there in the bedroom, sitting up with his arms stretched lazily overhead and a grin that said he had been awake for a while. “Morning,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
“Good morning.” I couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of warmth at the sight of him sitting there as if we’d never spent those weeks apart, as if things hadn’t been so broken.
“Big day,” he added, standing from the bed and walking over to where I stood, his hands finding my waist and tugging me closer. The touch was light, casual, but it still sent a thrill through me.
“Yeah, I’m a little nervous.” I glanced up at him, seeing the soft look in his eyes. “What if we missed something in the restoration? What if it doesn’t fly?”
“You’ll get it right,” he assured me, his tone confident, steady. “You always do. You’re the lead engineer.”
The reminder was nice, and it helped to ease some of the butterflies in my stomach.
But the doubt was still there, whispering in the back of my mind.
I knew that Ellen and I had gone over every detail, but this was more than just a project.
It was history. The weight of responsibility wasn’t something I could shrug off easily, not when it came to my beloved museum plane.
Patrick seemed to sense the lingering worry in my expression, and without another word, he leaned down and kissed me softly.
The kiss was gentle but grounding, reminding me of where I was and who was beside me.
It was a small gesture, but it helped. And as I pulled away, my head clearer, I found myself grateful for the small moments we’d found together again, the ones that reminded me how far we’d come.
After a quick breakfast, we drove to the museum, the city waking up slowly around us as the summer morning light filtered through the tall buildings.
When we arrived at the hangar, I noticed that things were different already.
There was a buzz in the air, excitement and energy that made the space feel alive in a new way.
Ellen was already there, leaning against the open hangar doors, sipping her coffee and watching the crew make final checks on the plane.
She might not be a morning person, but she wanted to be here for this.
“You’re early,” I commented as we approached, still trying to shake the lingering nervousness.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” She took another sip of coffee, then nodded at the Trimotor, which looked more polished and pristine than it had in decades. “You both did good work.”
Her praise was rare and meant something.
I glanced at Patrick, who just gave me a knowing smile before walking over to the plane to inspect the engine himself, like he had a dozen times before.
Ellen watched him go, a flicker of approval in her eyes.
“He’s been putting in the work,” she added, her voice quiet, for my ears only. “I’d say things are looking up.”
I didn’t respond right away, but I appreciated her words more than she probably knew.
It wasn’t just about the restoration anymore.
It was about us, and she saw that. She’d seen the shift in Patrick, the way he had quietly supported me in ways I hadn’t expected, without taking over, without making it about him.
And it showed, not just in the work we had done on the plane but in the way he interacted with everyone at the museum.
He was still learning, but he was getting it, slowly, bit by bit.
As we waited for the final preparations, Patrick returned to my side, wiping his hands on a rag, his sleeves rolled up, the early morning sun casting a glow on his face.
There was a sense of calm in him, the kind that only came from knowing he had done everything he could, and now it was just up to me.
He didn’t push or hover. He just stood there, present, waiting for my cue.
I appreciated that, more than I could put into words.
By mid-morning, everything was set. The fuel tanks were topped off, the propeller had been tested, and the tires checked.
The plane was ready, and all that was left was to climb into the cockpit and give it a go.
I took a deep breath, looking at Ellen and Patrick one last time before I headed toward the plane.
“I’ll be in the control booth,” Ellen said, her usual no-nonsense tone softened with a rare smile. “You’ve got this.”
I nodded, then turned to Patrick. “You ready?” I asked.
He met my gaze with a look of quiet confidence. “I’m right here with you.”
His words settled the last of my nerves.
With that reassurance, I climbed the ladder to the cockpit and settled into the worn seat, my hands moving through the pre-flight checks automatically.
The engine started with a smooth purr, the vibrations thrumming through the frame, and the world around me narrowed to just the dials and controls.
I could hear the muffled sounds of Patrick and Ellen outside, but they felt far away now, my focus entirely on the task at hand.
And then, I was moving. The runway stretched out ahead, the morning light glistening off the damp concrete as the Tin Goose rolled forward.
The moment it lifted off, rising into the clear blue sky, was unlike anything else.
The sound of the wind rushing past, the feel of the old aircraft responding to my control, and the knowledge that this moment was the culmination of so much work, not just on the plane but on us, too.
I smiled to myself as the landscape spread out below, the city shrinking as I climbed higher.
For a moment, it felt like I could leave everything behind, that nothing could touch me up here.
But as I leveled out and began my descent back toward the museum, my thoughts turned to Patrick.
This flight was not just about testing the plane, but testing us.
And so far, so good. The future wasn’t set, but it didn’t feel as scary anymore.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out okay.
When the Tin Goose’s wheels touched the ground, the thrill of the landing washed over me.
The plane came to a gentle stop, and I sat for a moment, savoring the rush before cutting the engine and climbing out of the cockpit.
By the time I made it to the hangar doors, Patrick was there, waiting, a proud look on his face as he greeted me with open arms.
“Congratulations, lead engineer,” he said, pulling me in for a hug that felt just as grounding as the landing had been moments before.
“Thanks,” I replied, squeezing him back and letting the moment stretch between us. It had been a long road to get to this day, and seeing the satisfaction in his expression, knowing he’d been with me for every step, even when things had been difficult between us, meant more than I could say.