Mile High: Chapter 45

My dad’s flight left a couple of hours ago, and I already miss him. But after a few days away from Chicago and Zanders, even though I knew he was in the same city as me, the fog began to lift from my mind. Clarity started to take over, and at this point, the only thing keeping my feet moving forward is the overwhelming determination to put myself first.

Zanders might not have chosen me, but from here on out, I’m going to.

Since the version of happiness that I want, the one where Zanders is in my life again, is off the table, I’m going to choose the next best thing. And that’s a life far away from him where I can walk outside my apartment and not see his. Where I can go to the dog park and not wonder if I’ll spot Rosie. Where I can work on an airplane without him being one of my passengers.

It might not be my happiest life, but it will be happy enough, and the overwhelming need to feel a spark of joy in my life is the only thing driving my decisions.

As the final seconds wind down on game four in Seattle, I want to cheer on the plane with Indy, but even though I truly am so happy for Zanders, my exhausted body doesn’t have it in me to celebrate. And on a selfish note, part of me hates that I won’t be on board for the finals if and when that series comes.

Though, no one else knows that yet.

From the second I stepped onto the plane tonight, I’ve taken it all in, knowing it’s the last time I’ll be on board.

The back galley where I met one of my closest friends floods me with memories of Indy and me having way too much fun this season, all while staring at half-naked hockey boys and getting paid for it.

Rio’s seat where I thought I had lost my hearing a time or two from walking past his blaring boom box.

That damn cooler, stocked to the brim with drinks, including sparkling water that Zanders refused to get himself.

The exit row where I saw him for the first time.

The trip where he caged me in and undressed in front of me, which I didn’t mind one bit, though I protested at the time.

All the flights he and Maddison would make me laugh while I tried to give the security briefing.

But all those memories are just a culmination of one—this is where I fell in love with him, and for my own sanity, I need to get away and try to forget.

The headlights from the team buses shine through the aircraft windows as they pull up planeside, causing my heart to beat so fast I can feel it drumming through my whole being. But that’s nothing in comparison to my body’s reaction to seeing Zanders board the plane first.

He’s never first. He’s usually towards the end of the crowd, leisurely taking his time, but not tonight. Tonight, he’s the first one off the bus and onto the plane, and as soon as he steps foot in the aisle, his eyes dart to the back where I stand. I attempt to hide, wanting to get this final flight over with, but his stare burns into me.

He’s dressed to impress as always, and tonight he looks a bit less haggard than the last time I saw him. Without a moment of hesitation, his strides pick up pace, quickly passing the exit row and continuing to me.

“Oh shit,” Indy mutters next to me, but I’m stuck in a daze, eyes locked with his, watching him charge in my direction.

I should move or hide or anything, really, but I can’t. My feet feel as if they’re stuck in cement, holding me captive to whatever is about to happen.

I don’t want to talk to him. After forty-eight hours of clarity, I don’t want to talk to him and have him remind me he doesn’t want to be with me. The message was loud and clear. But at the same time, he’s the only person I want to talk to. He’s the only person who could make me feel better, even though he’s the one who caused the pain.

Heartbreak is a real bitch like that.

“Stevie.”

Oh fuck.

“Can I please talk to you?” he pleads, hazels soft but begging.

I release an exhausted breath. “Zanders—”

His eyes widen from hearing me say that name as I watch his throat bob in a deep swallow before I correct myself.

“Zee, I’m just trying to do my job. Please just let me get through the day.”

The seats around him begin to fill with the rest of the team, and I don’t want to cause a scene. I want to get through this flight, staying under the radar and allowing everyone to forget I exist the second I’m off this plane.

“Please,” he continues. “I just need—”

“Zanders.” This time it’s Indy cutting in for me. “It’s not about what you need. She doesn’t want to talk. Let her do her job.”

Zanders’ face drops with guilt, the pain evident in his features. But I don’t want him to hurt. I’m not mad at him. I just want to move on.

“We’ll talk next flight,” I offer. “I need some more time.”

A tiny spark of hope overtakes him as he quickly nods, unknowing there won’t be a next flight. Not for me anyway. But as much as he hurt me, I can’t handle seeing him upset. Selfishly, this lie will get me through this final trip.

“Next flight?” he begs for reassurance.

We hold eye contact, and I try to remember it all. His hazel eyes that shift green in the sunlight. His lips that have touched every inch of my body. His gold chain around his neck that I’ve grabbed to steady myself a time a two. His heart that stole mine. His honesty that shocked the hell out of me before I really knew him. His thoughtfulness that not many people know exists.

I try to remember him.

Even though it hurts to the point I’m not sure how my body is still functioning, I’m grateful for the life he gave me. The confidence he instilled in me. The love he showed me I could experience. It’s hard to be mad at someone when the best part of your life was thanks to them.

A solo curl falls in front of my eyes, and Zanders’ hand darts up to move it out of the way, just as he’s done countless times before. But he stops inches short, his arm retreating when he remembers that he can’t.

I want him to touch me, but I’m afraid it’ll hurt too much to remember the way he feels.

His chest moves in a deep inhale as he composes himself and offers me an apologetic smile before turning back to his seat with his head dropped low between his shoulders.

“I can’t do this,” Indy admits. “I cannot do this. This isn’t right. You guys are supposed to be together.” She falls back to the wall behind her in agony. “It’s clear as fucking day. I’m more upset over this than my own breakup.”

“It’s okay.” I squeeze her arm, shooting her a reassuring grin. “It’ll all be okay.”

Indy doesn’t know that I’m moving to Seattle to take a new job or that this flight is my last, but I’m trying to enjoy my last few hours with her as my coworker, so I’ll keep it to myself for now.

“I’m going to go do the headcount or something productive, so I don’t wither away in my sadness back here.” Indy steps out of the galley and into the crowded aisles. “If my knee accidentally finds Zanders’ balls as I walk by, is that okay?”

Well, I never thought I’d have to say this to her, but, “Stay away from his balls, please.”

“Fine. But everyone else’s balls are up for grabs.” She pops a shoulder. “And yes, I meant that exactly how it sounded.”

Rio’s head turns back with that, eyes wide with interest. “I’m up for gr—”

“No.” Indy quickly charges past him.

Keeping myself occupied with anything I can find in the back galley, I hide away, counting down the minutes until I can get off this airplane. Once the wheels are off the ground, it’s two hundred and thirty-seven, to be exact.

“Stevie.” Maddison’s tall frame overtakes the small entryway to the back galley. He quickly glances behind him to make sure no one else is listening before refocusing his attention on me. “Don’t give up on him.”

I sigh a defeated breath. “Maddison—”

“Please. I know I shouldn’t get involved, but he’s so messed up over this. I’ve never seen him in worse shape.”

“He broke up with me!” I burst before regaining my composure and volume. “He did this, and I need to start moving on.”

Maddison’s apologetic gaze holds mine. “You know who he is, and I know who he is, but sometimes he forgets. He’s battling with some demons right now, but please. Don’t give up on him. Not yet.”

How do I tell his best friend that I’ve never given up on Zanders, and I never will? But I have given up on us. When I took a new job and booked a flight to go back to Seattle next week to find an apartment, I gave up on us.

But I can’t say that all right now, so I slightly nod my head while averting my eyes away from Maddison’s.

He heads back to his seat with that, and I spend the next four hours hiding in the galley and trying to enjoy my last flight as much as I can, even though the man I’m in love with and who broke my heart sits less than thirty feet from me.

And as I watch him walk off the plane when we land in Chicago, I wonder how many more times I’ll see him in person, if any.

“How much longer do I have you?”

“A month. Maybe two. I’m heading back to find an apartment next week, so it depends on that.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Cheryl reminds me. “If I could pay you to work here and convince you to stay, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Sitting on the floor with one of our newly surrendered pups, I shoot Cheryl a grateful smile. “I’m going to miss it here.”

That’s the understatement of the year. This shelter has stolen a huge part of my heart over the last nine months since I moved to Chicago. It’s the place where I feel most needed, where I’m the happiest, where I feel like I’m doing something worthy of my time. It’s never been about the money for me, but I need an income to live off, and I need a fresh start to begin healing my broken heart.

If I could take the shelter and all the dogs with me to Seattle, I’d do it in an instant.

I wish I could take everything that’s my life in Chicago, minus the heartbreak, and bring it with me, but at this point, choosing to make myself feel better is more important than missing all my favorite parts of this city.

“You know,” Cheryl continues. “You won’t be living with your brother in Seattle.” She looks down at the pup in my lap suggestively. “Maybe it’s time for your own.”

The pug mix is shaking in my lap, dropped off only twenty-four hours ago, so I continue to pet his coat, hoping to calm him down. “Once I get settled, I’ll be back in Chicago to catch some of Ryan’s games. Maybe I can take one with me then.”

Sensing Cheryl’s eyes on me, I keep my focus locked on the dog in my lap. “Stevie, are you sure you want to go?”

“Yes.” I force a smile. “It’ll be good for me.”

The bell over the front door rings as my brother comes charging in.

“Ryan?” I question from my seat on the floor, never once seeing my allergic brother step foot in this building and knowing something is majorly wrong now that he is.

“Vee.” His blue-green eyes stare down at me with an apology. “Your name got released.”

The room around me stills. I’m sure the dogs are still roaming around and playing, but I can’t tell. My attention is locked on Ryan as I try to register what he just said, hoping I misheard him.

“Are you sure?” Pulling my phone out, I frantically begin typing my name.

“Evan Zanders’ girlfriend. Flight attendant for his team.”

“Caught cheating on Shay,” is accompanied by the picture from the game outside of Seattle, where another girl grabbed his arm. I know it’s not true, but it’s not fun to look at.

“Devils’ point guard Ryan Shay’s sister dating Raptors’ defenseman Evan Zanders.”

Each article is paired with the picture of the two of us rushing into Zanders’ apartment, the one that quickly circulated the internet last week and caused an onslaught of hateful comments. But now, there are plenty of other photos of me included. Ones with my face clearly shown.

Good thing I quit my job two days ago because I’d be fired right now if I hadn’t.

“There are paparazzi and reporters outside of our building,” Ryan adds.

I sit in stunned silence. I just went through the horrible comments last week. I’m not ready to do it again.

Gus, Cheryl’s dog, leisurely approaches my brother before rubbing his entire golden body across his shins. “Can I walk you home? I need to get out of here.” Ryan scrunches his nose, on the verge of sneezing.

Standing from the ground, I take our newest shelter pup, who finally fell asleep, and pass him off to Cheryl. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I reassure her before following my brother outside.

He holds out a long trench coat, one I wear on rainy days, but today it’s a warm seventy-eight degrees, so my brows furrow in confusion as I look back to him.

“In case you wanted to hide.”

Glancing down at my outfit, my tank top is cropped and tight, showcasing my shape, including a few inches of my bare stomach. I have a flannel wrapped around my waist. My hair is thrown in a curly bun on top of my head, my jeans are baggy, my sneakers are dirty, and overall, I look very much like myself.

And that realization causes me to snatch the jacket from my brother and cover up, regardless of the warm weather.

“Stay behind me,” Ryan reminds me as we turn the corner to our building.

The base of our steps is flooded with people, cameras in their hands, waiting for anything.

“Are you sure they’re not here for you or Maddison or something?”

Ryan looks over his shoulder with an apology. “No, Vee. They’re not here for us.”

My eyes dart to Zanders’ building, where his front steps are clear for the first time in weeks, everyone instead camping in front of the one I live in.

We slyly approach, trying not to draw too much attention.

“Just move quick,” my brother whispers. “Ready?”

Not even a little bit, but it doesn’t matter because they’re going to see us when we turn the corner in three, two, one…

“Ryan Shay!” the first one calls out.

“Is this your sister?” Flashes from cameras, shouts from the crowd, trying to gain our attention.

“Quite the work perk, huh?”

“Stevie, over here!”

Ryan covers me, allowing me to stand between him and the building as our doorman opens the main entrance to the lobby and guides us inside. My brother quickly steps to the side, blocking the cameras from me as I rush in.

“Keep your head down,” Ryan adds once we’re inside and headed to the elevator, but I stop in my tracks, right there in the middle of the all-white pristine lobby that’s always made me feel out of place compared to the other people who live here.

But I don’t care anymore where I should and shouldn’t fit in or what people have to say about the way I look or dress. I don’t care that strangers don’t like the few extra pounds I carry through life. This is me, and I’m tired of allowing others to dictate where I’m allowed to feel accepted.

I finally accept myself, so everyone else can just get on board.

“Vee, let’s go,” Ryan urges, motioning me towards the elevator he holds open.

Glancing over my shoulder to the crowd outside, I can hear their shouts through the walls. I slip out of my long trench coat with haste before dropping it to the ground and charging back to the door.

“Stevie!” my brother yells, but I continue towards the horde of reporters.

Adrenaline courses through my bloodstream as I throw open the door, the flashes from their cameras becoming blinding and their shouts deafening.

“Miss Shay!”

“Stevie, over here!”

“How long has your relationship been going on?”

“Does your airline know?”

“I’m not going to answer any questions,” I raise my voice over the crowd. “I have nothing to say other than this is me.” I open my arms out wide, unable to hide. “Take your pictures, post it where you want. I don’t care anymore.”

I take a deep breath as the realization of what I’m doing hits me. “I might not look how you want me to, but you know how many women look like me? The words you say online about my body affect not only me but them too. So, I’m done hiding because I’m afraid of what you have to say.” I hold my arms out to the side, putting myself on display. “This is me, and if you feel the need to comment on it, well, that says a whole lot more about you than it does about me.”

The reporters remain quiet, some jotting down on their little notepads and others snapping photos.

“And this is weird, you know? Caring this much about who I am. A picture isn’t going to tell you anything. I’m a sister, a daughter, and a friend. I’m a human with feelings and emotions, and treating me like I’m not, treating these athletes like they’re not, is sick. These guys you idolize are humans. They’re just trying to play a game they love, and some of you are more concerned about their personal lives away from the sport. Let them live. Let me live.”

Turning back to head inside, I take one step before changing my mind. “Oh, and if you’re going to keep following me around, I’ll let you know I volunteer down the street at Senior Dogs of Chicago, so if you’re wanting to stalk me there, I fully expect you to plan on taking some dogs on walks. We need all the volunteers we can get.”

The crowd stirs with a light laugh, causing any remaining pressure on my chest to lift. They can spin this however they want. I’m not afraid of what people have to say anymore.

My eyes flicker above the mob of reporters to the other side of the street, finding Zanders standing on his steps in shock, watching me. He’s fully suited up in his signature game-day suit with his car keys dangling in his hand, but he’s frozen in place.

Finally, a proud grin lifts on his lips as he keeps his stare locked on me.

“Are you and Evan Zanders still seeing each other?” one of the reporters asks, drawing my attention back to the group.

I hesitate, not ready to admit it out loud.

“As I said, I’m not answering any questions.” I duck inside the lobby without giving another glance to the man across the street.

“Who the hell are you?” Ryan proudly laughs, swinging his arm over my shoulder as we head towards the elevator.

Taking a deep breath, the burden of self-loathing that I’ve carried for years begins to melt away, and I could not feel more free than I do at this moment.

“I’m just me.”