Page 2 of Billionaire's Fantasy
My heart feels like it’s stopped for a moment. “What? Why?”
Mike looks away, his expression pained. “I just don’t think this is working. We’re on different paths, and I don’t want to hold you back from your dreams.”
Tears start to well up in my eyes as I try to process what he’s saying. This can’t be happening. Not now, when everything is finally starting to come together for me.
“But Mike, we have been together for three years. I love you.” I say, my voice trembling. “We can work through this. We can make it work. We had rough times before and always came out stronger. You cannot just throw everything we have away.”
He shakes his head, his eyes still avoiding mine. “I’m sorry, Amber. I just can’t do it anymore.”
I know that tone of voice, I know this man - at least until now. He won’t say anything more about it. And in that moment I feel it, recognize it, that he made his decision. I feel like the world is crashing down around me. Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve dreamed of, feels like it’s slipping away. Just the other day we talked about marriage and kids. How can he throw it all away just like that? We haven’t even been fighting lately. Everything was good. At least I thought so – until now. His words, his decision, catch me off guard. I don’t know how to handle this, or how to move forward.
We sit in silence for a few moments, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mike speaks up again.
“I’ll give you some space,” he says. “We can talk more later when we’ve both had some time to think.”
I nod, unable to find the words to say. I get up from the table and start to walk out of the coffee shop, my head spinning.
The next few days are a blur of me crying myself to sleep as I try to figure out how to navigate it all.
I didn’t hear from Mike for a really long time, and when I do, he has a beautiful Instagram influencer on his arm. So much for wanting different things in life and taking breaks.
Chapter 1
Jetting Off
Amber
Istepontotheprivate jet and feel my heart racing with excitement. I can’t believe I’m actually flying in style. I take a deep breath and begin to record my experience for my followers. “Hey guys, it’s Amber! I’m so excited to be flying on a private jet for the first time. This is a step up from my usual economy class experience. Let me show you around!”
I’m practically bouncing with excitement, my heart beating so hard I can feel it in my throat. This is it, the moment I’ve been waiting for, the chance to fly on a luxurious private jet.
As I walk through the cabin, on this Embraer’s Phenom 300E, I marvel at how beautiful it is. The plush leather seats, the sleek design, and the abundance of space all make me feel like a VIP. I snap a few pictures and send them to my followers, eager to share my excitement.
I walk down the aisle, admiring the luxurious seats and the elegant decor. The plane is spotless. I turn around and walk back towards the cockpit. A tall and handsome man with piercing blue eyes greets me. He looks up from his instruments and gives me a curt nod.
“Hi there,” I say, trying to break the ice. “I’m Amber. Nice to meet you!”
He turns to face me and gives me a quick once-over. “Jackson,” he replies in a deep, gravelly voice. “I’m the pilot.”
He’s so handsome, it’s almost ridiculous.
For some reason, I feel a little intimidated by him. He looks like he means business and his demeanor is serious. I decide to keep my distance and focus on exploring the rest of the plane.
I notice Jackson watching me with a small smirk on his face. I can’t tell if he’s amused or annoyed by my chirpy demeanor. I decide to strike up a conversation and try to get to know him better.
“So, Jackson, how long have you been flying private jets?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
He gives me a sidelong glance before answering. “Long enough.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on, don’t be so mysterious. You must have some interesting stories to share.”
He chuckles dryly. “Maybe another time.”
Disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm, I start to get the feeling that he’s not interested in chatting with me. I slump back in my seat, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s still watching me.
Maybe he is interested in chatting after all. I don’t want to push him too hard. I just met the guy, after all.
Instead, I opted to change the subject. “So, Jackson, are you from around here?”
