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“Well, Chloe, can I take my wife home now?”
Apparently, he did not confess our activities from last night to Van. The way his eyes widen and stare at Zach, then at me, can only mean that the shock is just hitting him.
“We’ll see you two back home,” Zach says his goodbyes for both of us, and I have no choice but to follow him.
We walk in silence outside where a car is waiting for us. Zach had someone bring our bags down, so there’s nothing else holding us back from sliding in the back seat of the luxury SUV he hired.
“Zach, we need to talk,” I make my first attempt to address him directly.
“There’s more you need to tell me?” His tone suggests that he is expecting the worst from me.
“No, but I need to explain to you how things happened back then. I didn’t know that I…”
“That you were supposed to inform me I was going to be a father?” he cuts me off with aggressivity. “We had some great times, Hunter. But obviously, when they say things like in sickness and in health, they really mean it. And we are not ready for that type of a commitment, right? You should’ve told me all this last night. It would’ve saved us a chunk of change today,” he laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever.
“Zach, you don’t understand.” I am so close to tears now. I don’t want to cry in front of him anymore, but he is pushing me.
Finally, after a few very tense moments, Zach lets out a heavy breath, and it feels like that little move is taking a huge weight off my shoulders.
“Let’s get home first, okay?” he tells me, and I rush to nod my head at him. “We’ll take the next few hours it takes us to get there to regroup. I need some time to think.”
“Thank you,” I whisper in the quiet car, but he doesn’t respond, or say anything else for that matter.
Nothing happens after that. We spend the short trip to the airport in complete silence, so much so that I am in complete shock when we’re there.
“Stay there,” Zach barks at me right before he opens the door and steps out of the car. I remain where he told me, scared to even blink.
The car door on my side opens abruptly, making me jump. I still don’t turn my head that way, staying just as Zach left me when he exited the car.
His hand sticks out in front of me, and I finally lift my eyes to his. “Come on.” I lift my hand to his, and he helps me out. The whole scene is reminiscing of when we used to date. He never allowed me to get out of his beat up Jeep before him, always walking around to help me out.
“Thank you,” I murmur shyly, but Zach just grunts.
The driver gets our bags out of the back, and I watch as Zach slips him some money before grabbing both bags from him. He then takes my hand in his and starts walking toward the entrance of the airport.
When we keep on walking, passing by all the ticket counters, I start to worry.
“What airline are we taking?” I ask as I try to keep up with his long strides.
“No airline,” he tells me in the corner of his mouth and still continues to walk. “A buddy of mine owns a private jet. His wife is about to fly back home to Chicago, so this was perfect timing.”
I can’t even think right now. Who flies on private jets like this? What kind of friends does Zach have? I don’t remember him being this well off seven years ago. He lived in a small apartment in the suburbs and drove into the city every day, for God’s sake.
I don’t have time to think more on this when we arrive at the spot through which we can access the way to the private jet.
“Sorry, it’s a lot of walking,” Zach apologizes, which surprises me. “I should’ve had the driver take us to the tarmac. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No worries,” I mumble in awe. I have never been on a private jet in my life, so I am not even feeling the distance walked, but I am grateful for the comfortable shoes I have on.
We finally make it to a gate where a very friendly flight attendant greets us a lot warmer than the situation warrants. I grind my teeth when I notice her looking at Zach with too much familiarity. My stomach starts churning, and I can’t believe that I am jealous.
“Mr. Cavanaugh,” her white teeth glint when she smiles. “You made it.”
“Sasha,” Zach’s voice is fun and flirty, so much like the Zach I used to know, but nothing like the Zach I’ve dealt with since we reconnected. “I told you no more of this Mr. Cavanaugh shit. That’s my father, okay?”
“Okay, Mr. Cavan… I mean, Zach,” she corrects herself, but it’s almost like she did it on purpose to flirt with him.
I clear my throat, and her eyes snap to me. I’m sure she didn’t even realize I was hanging onto Zach’s arm up until now. I give her a more confident smile than I feel, and she returns it with a closed mouthed smile of her own.
