Page 2 of Take Me Back
It’s a complete one-eighty from how he’d grin and then catch me when I’d throw myself into his arms when we met at the airport on our stolen weekends away. But that was before everything changed.
Dane ends the call and shoves his phone in the pocket of his gray shorts. His white T-shirt strains over the thick muscles of his shoulders and arms, revealing gray-and-black ink that’s usually hidden under the sleeves of the starched shirts he normally wears for work.
“Jesus, Kat. I thought this was your way of telling me it’s over.”
His words hit me in the stomach like a fist.
“What?”
“You haven’t answered my texts since last night, including the three I sent you this morning to see if you were even coming. I get that business comes first with you, but seriously, what the hell?”
I stare at him, feeling like I’m looking at a stranger instead of my husband. “Over?”
“What else am I supposed to think when you go radio silent like that?”
Fumbling for my phone, I stare down at it like I’m holding alien technology. “I didn’t get any texts.”
“That’s hard to believe since I’ve sent a half dozen.”
“We’ve finished our pre-boarding and now are boarding Group One, our first-class cabin,” the woman at the podium announces.
Dane grabs the strap of his duffel and hefts it over his shoulder. “Let’s just get on the fucking plane.”
Two years of marriage, and it’s already come to this.
It’s all my fault.
Chapter 2
Kat
My mind is blank except for the wordoverpounding through it on repeat.
How did we get here? Once upon a time, Dane and I were happy. We were in love.
In fairy tales, the wedding is always followed byand they lived happily ever after. In real life,I dojust means the real work begins.
I blink back the sting of tears as the gate agent nods at me, and I hold my phone screen over the scanner.
“Thank you, Mrs. Cross.”
Mrs. Cross. Maybe not for much longer.
I trail after Dane down the jet bridge and onto the plane. He shoves his duffel into the overhead compartment and reaches back to take my carry-on and stow it. Even when he’s pissed, apparently thinking about divorcing me, Dane still has manners.
“Window or aisle?” He makes eye contact with my shoulder when he asks.
“Whichever you don’t want.”
“You can have the window.”
“Are you sure—”
“Kat,take the window.” His jaw barely moves as the words come from between clenched teeth.
He steps back so I can slide into the row and tuck my purse under the seat ahead of me.
“You want your laptop out of your carry-on?” he asks as he steps out of the aisle to allow more travelers to pass.
