Prepare to be mind fuckeddd. enjoy :)
"Thank you for choosing America's Airway and enjoy your flight." The flight attendant's voice echoed throughout out the whole plane. I couldn't believe John had talked me into this.
We were now on a flight to New York to check up on Lacey. Why? Because Gloria had convinced me that the only way to stop these dreams, was to forgive Lacey.
I sat in the back row next to Eric and watched as he played Words With Friends on his iPhone. Hawke sat on my lap and was slowly beginning to fall asleep. I kissed the top on his head and started gently bouncing my knee.
John sat in the row directly across from us and made his 49th attempt at calling Lacey. She wasn't answering and my guess was that she was never going to.
I relaxed in the car and looked at the flyers around me. A couple sat in the row in front of John and looked at what seemed to be wedding pictures. I looked down at my ring finger and smiled. I twirled my band a few times with my thumb.
"What are you thinking about?" Eric asked, breaking me from my thoughts. Have you ever noticed that when someone asks you "what are you thinking about" you stop thinking about anything?
"How much I love you," I replied.
Eric kissed my forehead and closed the game on his phone, "I love you too," he began, "but that's not what you're thinking about."
Sighing, I looked into Eric's concerned eyes and gave up. "I was thinking about our wedding."
"Which one?" Eric asked chuckling.
"The second one," I replied.
"What about it?" Eric shifted in his seat and grabbed his coffee. He took a long sip before I answered.
"Just thinking." Hawke's tiny fist wrapped around my pointer finger. "She stood right next to me," I whispered, "she stood right next to me at the altar, after what she did."
"Lacey," Eric wrinkled his brow, "Britt you have to let it go. The whole reason we're going to New York is so you can forgive her."
"But I don't know if I can," I replied, "what she did, it's just…"
"She slept with Kennedy," Eric exclaimed.
The couple in the row turned and me a look. I could feel my cheeks reddening.
"It's not like she slept with me!" Eric continued, ignoring the stares.
"I know that," I replied, trying to quiet Eric down.
"Then what's the big deal?" Eric demanded.
"The big deal is!" I exclaimed. I froze. I didn't want to say the wrong thing. "The big deal is she slept with Kennedy the night of our rehearsal dinner. She got him drunk and took advantage of him."
"So what?" Eric justified, "they were two SINGLE people; they can sleep with whoever they want."
"No they can't!" I argued.
"You do not control who Lacey can and cannot have sex with!" Eric shot back.
"I might not be able to control Lacey, but I sure as hell can control who Kennedy has sex with!"
Oh shit.
"Excuse me," Eric leaned forward, "you can control who Kennedy has sex with? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," I shook my head.
"No, please. Explain how you can control Kennedy's sex life," Eric antagonized me.
"Forget it," I looked over at John. His phone was still plastered to his ear. Whatever Lacey was doing, or had to done that got me on this plane better have been worth. John should just let it go; Lacey was going to leave him anyway. She was undeniably in love with John Ohh. Where had I seen this all before? Oh yeah, my life, and right now John Gomez was Lacey's Kennedy.
"You know what? I'm tired of this; it's been a year! Lacey slept with Kennedy, so what? You and I are married; we have a son, that's all that matters. Kennedy could be having sex with someone right now!"
"He's not!" I shot back.
"And what if he is?" Eric exclaimed.
"Eric! Can we not go one day without fighting?" I cried.
"Can you go one day without thinking about Kennedy?"
I handed Hawke to Eric and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Eric asked.
"I need to be alone," I replied before starting towards the bathrooms.
Shutting the door behind me I stepped up to the tiny sink and took in a few deep breaths. Running the cool water on my hands, I slashed some on my face.
"Still think you made the right decision?" A voice asked from behind me.
I shot up and spun around. Wiley stood in front of the door twirling something around his finger.
"You have got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed, clutching my chest.
"I do not kid," Wiley smiled.
I looked down at my hands and noticed my empty ring finger. I spun around and checked the sink. Fuck.
"Looking for this?" I turned and watched as Wiley tossed my wedding band from one hand to the other.
"Give that back!" I grabbed for it, "and leave me alone!"
"I can't do that," Wiley pulled the ring back.
"I did everything I was supposed to do!" I cried, "I'm going to fucking New York to forgive Lacey! You have to go away!"
"It's not that simple," Wiley teased, "you think going to New York and handing over some mediocre forgiveness is going to end this?"
"Yes I do!" I exclaimed, "now give me back my ring!"
"What ring?" Wiley opened both palms. My ring was gone.
"Ugh," I punched the counter, "what do I have to do?"
"You don't have to do anything," Wiley shrugged, "I want to show you something."
"What?" I barked.
"All you have to do is open your eyes," Wiley instructed.
"My eyes are fucking open!"
"Not yet," Wiley slid the door open behind him, "go."
"Fine," I pushed past him, "I'll play along with your little game."
I stepped out of the bathroom and faced the rows of the plane.
"I don't see anything!" I called behind me. "Wiley?" He was gone. Whatever. I marched back to my row and plopped back down in my seat. Wait. Had I gone the wrong way? How had I ended up in first class?
"Look I'm sor…" I turned to apologize to Eric, but Eric was not who I was sitting next to. "Kennedy?"
"Yes darling?" he smiled, "what are you sor…for?"
"How, how is this happening?"
"How is what happening?" Kennedy asked confused.
"Where am I?" I demanded.
"Did you hit your head?" Kennedy caressed my forehead, "when's your birthday?"
"July fucking 3rd Kennedy," I replied, "you know my fucking birthday."
"I know I do," Kennedy defensively replied, "I'm just making sure you do!"
"What's going on?" I whispered, a lump forming in my throat.
"We're on a plane," Kennedy replied.
"Obviously! Where are we going?" I asked.
"Paris, Britta! You know we're going to Paris! Okay, something's wrong." Kennedy waved the flight attendant over. "Can she have a glass of water?"
"No problem," she smiled and bustled away.
"Why are we going to Paris?" I begged.
"Britta, The Maine is touring Europe this summer. We're going to Paris for our first show. Is this all starting to make sense?"
"The Maine!" I exclaimed, "When did The Maine get back together?"
"We never broke up!" Kennedy replied, "where are you getting this from?"
"No, nothing," I shook my head. What the fuck was going on?
"Dude, is she okay?" Garrett asked from across the row.
"Garrett?" I exclaimed. "Where's John?"
"I'm right here!" John stood up from the seat in front of mine.
"No, I mean John Gomez!" I shouted.
"John Gomez?" Kennedy wrinkled his brow, "he's home, in Arizona."
"Wh..why? We were going to New York, to find Lacey!"
"To find me?" Lacey stood from the seat next to John, "I'm right here babe!"
"Lacey!" I shot up! "You're okay!"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she chuckled, "whatever you took, can I have some?"
"I didn't take anything," I whispered, "this can't be happening!"
"Babe, sit down. Just calm down and we'll figure this all out, okay?" Kennedy rubbed my waste.
I sat back down and pulled in a sharp breath. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a joke. Eric was hiding somewhere. That was it. He was going to pop out of nowhere. With Ashton Kutcher. Yupp that solves it. I was being Punked. Haha, good joke guys, you got me!
"So where are we really going?" I turned and faced Kennedy.
"Paris," he replied confused, "we're going to Paris for the show tonight."
"Where's Hawke?" I blurted.
"Who's Hawke?" Kennedy asked grabbing my hand.
"My son, Kennedy! Hawke Christopher Halvorsen!" I exclaimed.
"Whoa whoa whoa," Garrett laughed, "Halvorsen? As in Eric? Good joke!"
"What?" I flew out of my seat, "what happened to Eric?"
"Nothing happened to me," Eric stood up a few rows ahead of me, "I'm right here."
"Eric!" I exclaimed and ran into his arms, "please tell me this is a joke!"
"This is a joke…" Eric awkwardly hugged me back, "Britta, why are you hugging me?"
"Because you're my husband!" I urged.
"No, I'm not!" Eric laughed.
"Britta," Kennedy's voice soothed behind me, "Eric's not your husband; I am."
Thanks for reading :)
reviews would be lovely!