Page 156 of Perfect Satisfaction

“Umm.” I hesitate, not wanting to flaunt the fact I’m in first class. That’s when I feel the new length of his beard against the side of my face.

His cologne rips through my senses when he whispers, “Apparently, I was a very sensible boy.”

“Sensible?” I parrot.

“Mm-hmm. I saved up all my air miles, and lo and behold, I’m flying first class.” He steps back, but his face is right there.

Close enough to kiss.

Close enough to read the lies that could fall from his lips.

I pull back so we don’t give the impression of being together and declare, “Great. Just great.”

Just then, they call all first-class passengers. Arek extends his arm.

I sweep ahead so I can board the plane first and maybe have thirty seconds of mental peace before I lose what’s left of my sanity over the next eight hours.

I’m furiously typing on my laptop when the plane hits massive turbulence, and I let out a yelp.

Immediately the little door between our seats slides back, and his hand reaches through. I can’t see his face, but Arek’s offering me his hand to hold onto.

Security is something I’ve had so little of in my life.

Instinctively, I reach for it—stopping just short of actually touching his lean fingers.

“You can hold onto me, Sula.”

I can’t see his face. It’s obscured by the privacy glass. Somehow, it’s easier this way. “No, I can’t.” I wish I could. I wish I believed in him, us,me, enough to bridge those last few inches.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid of what will happen if you break my heart again,” I whisper the truth.

“Tell me why you’re afraid.” I hear material shift against the seat as he gets more comfortable. One hand exchanges for another. “Let’s pretend. Right now, I could be a stranger.”

I close my laptop lid before shifting onto my side. Placing my right hand where my left was a few seconds earlier, I admit, “That’s true.”

“Then tell your new stranger friend why you are afraid.”

I snuggle down and admit to my “stranger,” “I’ve been hurt.”

“Fool. Idiot. Moron.”

I laugh softly. “But I love him, so who’s the fool?”

“Love conquers all.”

“That’s a saying for plays and greeting cards.”

“What do you think love is?” my stranger asks me.

“Love is that once-in-a-lifetime chance of finding the broken pieces of your soul and gluing them together with the tears lifted from your pillow. If you’re lucky, there won’t be a hole left. People who think love leaves you whole have never truly felt the emotion.”

He sucks in a breath so audibly, I’m certain they can hear it in coach. “Do you want to share what’s troubling you?”

Do I?With my fingers just grazing the “stranger’s,” I tell him about the emotion of being slapped in the face by the photo. “It made me realize I’ll never be enough to keep him.”

“You’re saying you’ve been distant because of fear?”