Page 70 of Love Unwritten
I had never anticipated Nico wanting me to join him and his father on a trip to create lasting visual memories, but once I was invited, I couldn’t exactly say no. Not even after Nico encouraged his father to switch the original Europe trip for a tropical vacation ill-suited to someone who wants to hide their scars for as long as humanly possible.
Rafael stares at me for the longest five seconds of my life. “Thank you.” His throat visibly tightens from his thick swallow. “It means a lot to him.”
A tidal wave of warmth spreads through my chest, only to be cut short when the takeoff message cuts out and the plane jerks backward.
My breathing becomes shallower as the plane starts moving toward the runway, and my bone-crushing grip on the armrests tightens until my knuckles turn white from lack of blood flow.
Rafael’s gaze lifts from my hands. “You should have told me about this.”
I laugh to myself. “What could you have done?”
“Suggested some Xanax?”
“Do you happen to have some?”
“No, but I would have pointed you toward someone who could have helped. Or at the very least, I would have taught you some strategies before the big flight.”
“Oh, because you’re an expert on aviophobia now?”
“Seeing as I once felt the same way, yeah.”
“Really?” I thought Nico was joking because I find it hard to believe Rafael is—or was—afraid of something mundane like planes. He seems so…strong and stoic.
“Yup. Why do you think I like to keep the window open?”
“If you want…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “You could…”
“I’m fine.”
The takeoff announcement begins to play on the large screen in front of me, reminding me of everything that can go wrong on the flight. I can’t look away from the short film that discusses safety rafts, emergency exits, and the importance of putting my oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else.
The engines roaring to life only make my anxiety worse as the plane and my heart rate pick up speed.
“Let’s play a game.”
“Cute idea, but I’m going to have to politely decline because, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m about two seconds away from losing my goddamn mind.”
He ignores me as he asks, “Would you rather never play an instrument again or lose the ability to sing?”
My gasp can barely be heard over the noisy engines. “Excuse me?”
“You have to pick one.”
“I don’t want to.” My heart jolts as the wheels lose touch with the ground.
You’re stuck in here for hours, and there is nothing you can do—
“I bet you’d choose to give up your voice.”
Wait. What?
“Which would be a damn shame if you asked me.”
I’m struggling to breathe, and it has nothing to do with the plane taking off.
“You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”
My whole face probably resembles a tomato. “You’re just saying that to distract me.”