Page 100 of Punishing His Runaway Bride
Olivia.
Where the hell are you?
Chapter Thirteen
Olivia
The plane touched down at three in the afternoon. New York sunlight sliced through the porthole window, warming Leo's face.
He pressed himself against it, nose almost flat to the glass, pointing at the runway outside with his little finger, announcing in his weird mix of French and English. "Mommy, so many planes! What's that yellow one? Where's the big one going?"
"Leo, sit down."
"But Mommy—"
"Seatbelt's still on."
He slouched back reluctantly, but his eyes stayed glued to the window, those green eyes full of light. A kid raised in a French village, first time setting foot on this soil. Everything he knew about New York came from the stories I told him sometimes, and the Manhattan streets that flashed in the background during video calls with Ella.
I helped him refasten his seatbelt. He raised both arms cooperatively, then immediately turned back to the window.
I let him. I leaned against the seat back, watching the patch of sunlight crawl slowly across the aisle carpet, telling myself this was just an ordinary trip.
Come back for Sophie's wedding. Wedding ends, we leave.
Ella waited at arrivals. That red hair was unmistakable. She stood behind the barrier, on tiptoes, scanning the crowd. The second she spotted me, she lit up like someone flipped a switch.
"Olivia!"
She rushed over and threw her arms around me. We'd just seen each other a few days ago, she'd complained about the shitty French signal, I'd laughed at her new haircut that made her look like an exploded cat. But now she held on tight, tight enough that I could feel her heartbeat racing.
"Here you are again," she released me, looking me up and down. "How are you even skinnier than last week? I told you French food is terrible."
I smiled. "You said that last week, too."
"Last week was last week. Now is now." Her gaze dropped to Leo beside me. She crouched down, extending her hand. "Come here, let auntie see—have you grown taller just in these few days?"
Leo peeked out from behind my legs, grinning. "Ella, I missed you."
"I missed you too!" Ella scooped him up and kissed his cheek. "You're heavier. Did your Mommy feed you too many good things?"
"Mommy made pasta! And meatballs!"
"Wow, sounds great—" Ella carried him toward the exit, shouting back at me. "Come on! Car's outside. Parking fees are killing me. Hurry up."
I grabbed the luggage and followed, watching her play with Leo as they walked, both of them cackling.
Just like that. Nothing else. I trailed behind them toward the exit. Sunlight cut through the gaps in the revolving door. New York's smell rushed into my nose—exhaust, asphalt, the scent of grilled meat from some street cart, all mixed together. A familiar scent. This city's scent.
I took a deep breath. Five years later, standing on this city's ground again.
Ella had two apartments in Manhattan. She lived in one, kept the other empty, occasionally lending it to friends. This time, she'd cleaned out the empty one for Leo and me. Twenty-second floor,floor-to-ceiling windows facing Central Park. On clear days you could see the treetops forming a stretch of green.
When we arrived, everything was ready. Fresh sheets on the beds, refrigerator stuffed full. Leo's little room had a set of building blocks and two picture books on the nightstand—the kind a kid his age would love.
Leo started running the second he walked in. Living room to kitchen and back. When he discovered the blocks, he let out a shriek and dropped onto the carpet. Two seconds later, he was tearing open the packaging. He looked up, eyes shining. "Ella, thank you!"
"If you're gonna thank me, come give me a hug."
