The Wrong Side of Heaven

Chapter 1

Sitting in the coffee shop, I pick at the edge of the strawberry danish that has been sitting in front of me for at least ten minutes now. It's been two months since the accident and I have yet to feel normal. Besides the slight PTSD from the crash, I also feel disappointed about not moving as planned. Maybe it was a sign that moving wasn't in my best interest. Who knows. All I know is I've fallen into a depression about my current life status. I sold everything I owned before my planned move. All I had was my necessities in my suitcase and duffel bag. Now I don't even have that. I have nothing.

I did it once when I was eighteen and I'll do it again. I just need to learn to live with what happened. The image of the pilots body going slack while his blood dripped out of his head comes to mind and I shudder. The cause of the accident was declared as an engine failure. I tried telling them multiple times what I saw but they claimed my story didn't match the others, or the autopsy of the pilot. The confusion was blamed on a head trauma but I know what I saw. The whole situation was odd and I can't make sense of it. Why shoot at a plane with four people on it? It seems like a personal issue. With the pilot possibly since he was the one who was shot. I've spent the past two months trying to make sense of it but nothing makes sense anymore.

Someone places their hand on my shoulder and I jump slightly. "Oh. I'm sorry," an all too familiar voice says.

"William," I say, glancing up at him in surprise as my body tenses even more.

The last time I seen him was when he came to visit while I was in the hospital. I may or may not have flipped out on him in my traumatized state. However, I stand my ground with my opinion that he shouldn't have visited considering he walked out on me two months prior after putting me through hell. "I'm happy to see you're doing better."

"Thanks," I say softly, wishing he'd leave me alone.

A familiar face in the background catches my attention. My lips part in surprise as I inhale sharply. I must be dreaming. The handsome stranger from the plane casually walks over to me. He gently raises my chin to look me over then caresses my cheek with his thumb before releasing me. "You've healed beautifully, Isabel."

This man is a complete stranger and he acts like we've been friends our entire lives. According to my mom, he refused to leave the hospital until I did. I don't remember much of the first week but my mom said she let him visit me. Thanks mom. "Who are you?" William asks, glancing between us.

"Jay," I respond, unable to take my eyes off of the sexy human being standing in front of me. "This is William."

The two shake hands and Jay clears his throat. "If you'll excuse us..."

William walks away while glancing back at us over his shoulder. If only I could dismiss him that easily. Turning my attention away from him, I watch as the glorious man in front of me takes the seat across from me. He's wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that hugs his muscular upper body. There's a modest gold Cuban link chain hanging around his neck. He could be wearing a trash bag for all I care - I'd still be sitting here fantasizing about him. "What are you doing here?" I ask curiously.

He grabs the strawberry danish sitting in front of me and takes a bite before placing it back down. After taking his time chewing, he licks his lips. "Visiting you."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I didn't. I was walking by and noticed you so I thought I'd come say hello." That's hard to believe but I decide not to push any further. Instead, I go back to picking at the edge the danish. "How have you been?"

His question holds a different weight than everyone else's. He's the only person who truly understands what I'm going through. We both survived a traumatic event and have gotten no closure because we still don't know why it happened. "Not good," I admit softly.