Silence.

Her last paragraph repeated itself in my mind on a loop: I love you, I’m in love with you, do you feel the same…

I knew what I should’ve said, what would make her flight easier, but I had to say what I knew was better. What I knew was the right thing to do.

“Ari…” I said, looking into her eyes.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry…” I noticed tears welling in her eyes. “Please don’t take this to heart but…I do love you, I love you very much but…”

“But?” Her face fell. “But, what?”

“But not in that way…You’re my best friend and I know we had sex but…We’re just friends.”

Wiping away a stray tear, she forced a smile and nodded, stepping back. “Right…Just friends.”

I reached out and pulled her back. “You’re doing the right thing by going abroad. You’re going to kick ass.”

“Thank you...” She gave me a hug and we stood still in an awkward embrace before slowly breaking apart.

“Did I miss something?” Her mom walked back over, looking between us both. “Why is your face so red, Ari?”

“I have no idea.” She turned away from me.

Her mom looked between the two of us again but didn’t press any further. “Could you stand next to each other again?”

We stepped closer and she snapped shot after shot.

“Okay…How about a hugging pose?” She snapped again. “Give each other a real hug! Like you’re actually best friends who won’t see each other for a while. Ari, you look like you don’t even want to be around Carter right now…”

If only she knew…

When she was satisfied with our less than stellar shots, she snapped her fingers and made solo requests for just Ari.

“Could you go stand by that departure sign, Ari?” Her mom asked. “Oh, and I need to get one of you in front of the international sign, too.”

Ten minutes later, when her mom had managed to snap a photo of her at every angle, Ari gave us both a hug.

“Take care, you two,” she said. “I love you both…Very, very much…”

“Love you, too,” we said.

“They’re going to start boarding in about thirty minutes…” She looked at her watch. “I need to get through security.” Her eyes met mine. “Talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later.”

She walked away and I kept my eyes on her until she disappeared. I walked her mom—who started to cry, back to her car, and when I was sure she wasn’t too emotional to drive, I headed to my car.

As I was starting the engine, I felt my phone vibrating. A text from Ari.

How much did you spend on upgrading me to first class?

I didn’t upgrade you to first class.

Someone did…I didn’t pay for this.

You did. Your seat was always 2A.

Ha! I knew it. Thank you very much…

No problem. I figured ten-plus hours in economy class would’ve brought out the worst in you and your anxiety. Be safe.

Okay.

Okay.

I drove off and when I stopped at a red-light, I saw that she’d sent me another text.

Okay so…Just to be clear because well…I don’t know. Sometimes you push people away when you don’t want to show emotions…When we were having sex…You felt nothing? It was just sex?

You putting it that way makes me sound like an asshole, Ari…

I didn’t say you were an asshole. Just tell me.

Yes. It was just sex.

Okay. Talk to you later.

Talk to you later.

Track 21. Should’ve Said No (2:44)

I couldn’t stop crying.

My heart felt heavy, and no matter how many times I wiped away my tears, more of them fell down my face. A part of me wished that I was sitting in coach and not first class so it would be easier to hide my pain, so flight attendants wouldn’t be so accessible and could stop offering me endless drinks and looks of sympathy.

I started to wonder if the heartbreak was written all over my face, if the other passengers in my cabin could see it.

Carter’s words, “I’m sorry…I love you, but not in that way,” wouldn’t stop replaying themselves in my head, and I couldn’t stop staring at his last text:

Yes. It was just sex.

I was hoping that the words were playing a cruel joke on me, because I still couldn’t believe he felt differently than I did…

I’d thought the way he looked at me when we made love meant something, that the way he treated me (better than anyone he’d ever dated) was indicative of something more. Something much more between us.

“Here you go…” A flight attendant set another packet of Kleenex in my lap. “Would you like another cup of juice?”

“No…” I sniffled. “I’m…” I paused. I would probably never see her or any of the people on this plane again in my life. “Can I have two glasses of your hardest liquor? Actually, can you make that four?”

She looked as if she was going to recite some company line, but she smiled instead. “Be right back.”

Turning to face the window, I stared at the wing of the plane as it cruised through clouds. I hoped that four glasses of alcohol would be enough for me to sleep through the remaining hours of this flight without dreaming.

Then again, if I did, I hoped that the images would show me going back in time and not talking to Carter as much. Maybe if we’d never had the opportunity to cross the line, this never would have happened.