Chapter 2 - Thirty-Five Thousand Feet
The curtain between First Class and the rest of the plane clicked shut, sealing them into a quiet, leather-scented sanctuary.
The seven empty seats gleamed under the soft ambient lighting. Oliver was tucked into seat 1A, mesmerized by an animated movie playing on the large screen, a box of apple juice held in both hands, his noise-canceling earbuds still firmly in place.
Garrett sat across from Paige in row 2, his long legs practically touching hers in the narrow space between their reclining leather chairs.
The $62 million acquisition packet lay forgotten on his side table, its screen dark.
"His name is Oliver," Paige said, her voice small, staring down at her cup of chamomile tea. "Oliver Garrett Henley."
Garrett’s breath caught in his throat. Oliver Garrett.
"He was born in November," she continued quietly, her eyes fixed on the steam rising from her cup. "In a little hospital in Eugene, Oregon. It was snowing. I was alone, Garrett. I had eight hundred dollars left in my checking account, no job references, and a lease on a studio apartment that smelled like mold."
Every word was a knife in Garrett’s chest.
While he had been sleeping in his forty-million-dollar penthouse, drinking hundred-year-old scotch, and obsessing over medical tech patents, the woman he loved had been giving birth to his son in a cold room in Oregon, alone, wondering how she was going to buy diapers.
"Why didn't you come back?" Garrett rasped, his hands clenching into tight fists on his knees. "When you knew you were pregnant... why didn't you call my office? Why didn't you tell Margot?"
Paige let out a bitter, lifeless laugh. "Call your office? Garrett, the last thing you said to me was that if I ever set foot near Brennan Health again, you’d have me prosecuted for corporate espionage! You told me I was dead to you!"
"I was out of my mind!" Garrett yelled softly, leaning forward, pressing his forehead against his hands. "I was terrified! The board was trying to oust me, the media was destroying my family name, and my own uncle was whispering in my ear that you were using me! I was an idiot, Paige! A blind, arrogant idiot!"
"You were a man who didn't trust me," Paige said, looking up, her eyes hard and bright with old pain. "I loved you, Garrett. I gave you everything. I knew about your father, I knew about your mother’s death, I knew about the nightmares you had about failing. I stayed through all of it. And the first time something went wrong, you assumed I was a monster."
"I know," he whispered. "I know."
He lifted his head, his face drawn and pale. "I have spent four years living in a hell of my own making, Paige. Every night I go home to that empty apartment, and I look at the place where you used to leave your shoes. I haven't touched a thing in your old office at the house. Your books are still on the shelf. Your mug is still in the cupboard."
Paige blinked, a sudden tear spilling over her lashes and running down her cheek. "Garrett..."
"I don't expect you to forgive me," Garrett said, his voice dropping into a desperate, pleading tone. "I don't expect you to walk back into my life and pretend I didn't break your heart. But that boy..." He glanced toward seat 1A, where Oliver was giggling at a cartoon mouse on the screen. "That boy is my son. I will give him the world, Paige. I will give you the world. I will step down from Brennan Health tomorrow if that’s what it takes."
Paige stared at him, stunned. "Step down? You live for that company, Garrett. It’s your legacy."
"It’s a pile of glass and steel," Garrett spat, his hazel eyes burning with fierce intensity. "It’s nothing. Compared to him... compared to you... it’s absolutely nothing."
The plane suddenly lurched.
A heavy, sickening drop made the floorboards groan. The cabin lights flickered once, twice, and then went completely black before the yellow emergency lights clicked on with a sharp, buzzing hum.
Overhead, the captain’s voice crackled through the intercom, sounding strained and urgent. "Flight attendants, prepare for severe turbulence. All passengers return to your seats immediately."
Oliver let out a terrified scream as his screen went dead. He ripped the noise-canceling earbuds from his ears, the loud, grinding metallic roar of the engines filling the cabin as the plane dipped again, dropping fifty feet in two seconds.
"Mama! Mama!" Oliver shrieked, clutching his gray rabbit, his little body shaking against his seat belt.
Paige unbuckled her belt instantly, trying to stand up, but another violent jolt threw her sideways into her seat. "Oliver!"
Garrett didn't hesitate.
Years of instinct and athletic conditioning kicked in. He unbuckled, grabbed the leather seat handles for leverage, and scrambled across the aisle despite the terrifying drops of the aircraft. He slid into seat 1B beside Oliver, wrapping his broad arms completely around the trembling toddler, pulling him flush against his chest.
"I’ve got you!" Garrett roared over the engine noise, holding Oliver so tight that no turbulence could shake him loose. "I’ve got you, buddy! You’re safe! I won't let you fall!"
The plane rocked violently to the left. Overhead bins popped open, dropping two carry-on bags into the center aisle. Outside the small oval windows, thick, dark storm clouds swallowed the sky, flashes of purple lightning illuminating the cabin in terrifying bursts.
Oliver buried his head into the nook of Garrett’s neck, his small, warm hands clutching at the lapels of Garrett’s five-thousand-dollar suit jacket.
"Daddy!" Oliver sobbed hysterically, his voice muffled against Garrett’s throat. "Daddy, stop the thunder! Make it stop!"
Garrett froze.
The word hit him harder than the turbulence, harder than any corporate disaster, harder than anything he had ever felt in his entire thirty-four years of existence.
Daddy.
A wave of overwhelming, ferocious emotion surged through Garrett’s veins. He held the little boy tighter, pressing his lips against Oliver’s damp, sandy-blond hair, his eyes burning with hot, unstoppable tears.
"I’m here, Ollie," Garrett whispered into the boy’s hair, his voice steady as a rock despite the storm raging outside the plane. "Daddy’s here. I’ve got you. I will never let anything hurt you again."
Paige watched them from across the aisle, holding onto her armrests, her heart pounding against her ribs. She saw the way Garrett held their son—not like a billionaire protecting an asset, but like a man who had finally found the piece of his soul that had been missing for four long years.
The plane gave one final, heavy shudder, breaking through the dense wall of storm clouds, and suddenly popped out into smooth, golden sunlight above the cloud layer.
The engines returned to their quiet, steady hum. The overhead lights clicked back to a warm, soft white.
Oliver’s sobs slowly quieted into small, hitching breaths. He pulled his face away from Garrett’s neck, looking up with big, watery hazel eyes.
Garrett wiped a tear from the toddler’s cheek with his thumb, his hand trembling slightly.
"You’re brave, Ollie," Garrett whispered softly. "So brave."
Oliver looked at Garrett’s face, then reached out a small, sticky hand and touched the wet line on Garrett’s cheek.
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"Why are you crying, big man?" Oliver asked innocently.
Garrett let out a ragged, watery laugh, pulling the little boy closer to his heart. "Because I’m happy, Ollie. Because I finally found you."
