Chapter 1

20.4K 544 27
                                    


Chapter 1


Sophie

The plane touches down right on time as I look out the small window at the night lit up by the overpowering lights of the airport. We taxy down the runway and I close the small window that is the porthole to my old life, sliding the barrier physically between the two worlds and wishing I could do it as easily emotionally. I take the last sip of my small inflight cocktail and close my eyes as it burns my throat and warms my insides. It will be the first of many burns I know I'll be feeling this week.

The other passengers begin to spill into the isle and I can hear the sound of the compartments above my head opening. I'm not getting out of my seat until I have to. Let the frantic old ladies and tired whining children out first. I'm not going to fight for a position in that miserable line when I can sit in this uncomfortable seat and prolong the last few moments I have to myself.

The man that was sitting beside me stands up and I open my eyes to make sure his departure does not include his carryon being dropped on my head. With a small smile and a nod, he steps into the aisle amongst the crowd and makes his way to the front of the plane. I have to admit that I've been a terrible seatmate. I was not really a big conversationalist and his attempts to start friendly chitchat fell flat as I kept a steady flow of alcohol streaming over my lips and wetting my tongue.

Finally when the last person has left the plane, I stand up a little wobbly and reach for my carryon. I can tell the flight attendant is anxious for me to get off this damn plane so she can too. I straighten out my skirt and feel the ache of standing in my heels again. I hadn't had time to get out of my work clothes before rushing to make this flight. With my bag in hand, I exit the plane and take the long walk up the jet way feeling my dread build as I take each step.

It isn't horribly late for a Monday night, but the airport is still pretty empty and there are small areas where the shops have closed and the lights are shut off. Of course there is no one waiting for me, I didn't really confirm with Rachel what time I'd be arriving for that exact reason. I think it's for the best that I get to the hotel and check in alone so I can have a night to let the events of this next week really settle in my head and heart.

The baggage claim area is a little more crowded, but only a few bags are still making the rotation. I watch my black bag with the pink ribbon I had attached to make spotting it easier, make a turn and move in my direction. When it gets close, I grip the handle and pull it to the floor beside me. This is it. I have arrived and a few hours from now I'll be facing my childhood best friend and the rest of her bridal party at the hotel restaurant for brunch.

The air hits me like a tepid wet breath, sucking the air from my lungs and plastering my face with a moist sheen of perspiration. Yes, I'm back in Florida for the first time since leaving four years ago. I have about six days before I'll be stepping back off of an airplane and into the fresh California air. I just hope I can survive this week with my sanity and dignity. Right now it doesn't feel like either are possible.

I pull the wedding invitation from my purse and hail a taxy at the curb. The driver pulls over and helps to put my bag and carryon into the trunk before returning to his seat. The smell of fake leather and old air freshener offends my nose, but I know I must smell like a bar towel so I try my best to pretend it isn't hard to breathe, and switch straight to mouth breathing only.

"I'm going to the Marriot." I move to show him the invitation, but he waves it off and pulls into traffic so abruptly that I slam back against the seat. Fine, I guess he knows exactly where it is. I make it about two blocks before I have to roll my window down despite the horrid wave of uncomfortably thick air I know is going to come sweeping in. I hate humidity. I'm sure my sleek, long, straight California hair is quickly becoming my frizzy, fluffy, Florida hair.

Best and HonorWhere stories live. Discover now