Page 72 of Love Unwritten
Her heavy breathing drags me away from my thoughts. It’s been a long time since anyone but Nico sought to be comforted by me, and I quickly become aware of how rusty I am as I say, “The statistics are in our favor. Only one in every eleven million planes crashes.”
She stares at me in horror. “One in eleven million?”
“According to Google, yeah.”
“But aren’t there at least a hundred thousand flights in a given day?”
Fuck. So much for comforting her.
The plane dips a little, and my stomach lurches. Her bone-crushing hold on my hand doesn’t relent, and I offer a reassuring squeeze despite my joints protesting.
“We could—”
She doesn’t let me finish my sentence. “If you suggest we play a game, I will kill you.”
“I was going to recommend taking a few deep breaths, but if plotting my murder distracts you, then be my guest. I’ll even offer ideas.”
“Do you have a will?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Just want to make sure Nico is set for life and all.”
There must be something wrong with me because that’s the only plausible explanation for how my chest warms at the idea of her caring enough about my son to make sure he is taken care of if I’m not around.
The plane rocks again.
“Oh my God.” She groans. “We’re going to die.”
A few other people in the first-class cabin stare at Ellie with a mix of judgmental expressions, and I glare at them from over the top of her head until they drop their eyes.
Who knew my scowl could be turned into a superpower?
When I look back down, I find Ellie staring straight ahead with a single tear rolling down her face. It affects me more than I’d like, and I instinctively find myself brushing the droplet away with the pad of my thumb.
“Ellie.”
Nothing.
“Hey.”
Her silence eats away at me as she takes a big gulp of air.
“Elle?” I speak the nickname into existence without thinking much of it. “Háblame.” My use of Spanish pulls her out of whatever anxious spiral she was in.
She turns to look at me. “What does that mean?”
“Talk to me,” I translate.
“I can’t,” she rasps.
“You’re crying.”
She rushes to wipe at her cheeks. “This is so embarrassing.”
“I agree. If you keep this up, I’ll have no choice but to use it as blackmail one day.”
She laughs. It’s nothing special, but it relieves some of the growing tension in my body until the plane shakes again. While I got over my fear of flying years ago, I still hate turbulence, so distracting Ellie will benefit me too.