Chapter 38
Ethan D'Angelo was a man of composure. He thrived on order, elegance, and control. But as he settled into his plush first-class seat on the flight back home, he felt anything but composed.
For starters, he wasn't even supposed to be flying back this soon. His business in Milan was far from complete. Yet here he was, sitting in seat 1A, fiddling with his cufflinks and convincing himself he wasn't making a colossal mistake.
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The Passenger from Hell
Ethan's first inkling that this flight would be far from pleasant came when the man in seat 1B arrived. He was a burly, middle-aged fellow with a Hawaiian shirt so loud it practically screamed over the plane's engines.
"Hey, buddy!" the man boomed, slapping Ethan on the shoulder with enough force to dislodge a lesser man. "First time flying first class?"
Ethan blinked, momentarily stunned. "No," he replied coolly, adjusting his tie.
"Well, it's mine!" the man declared, settling into his seat with all the grace of a hippo. "Name's Chuck. What's yours?"
"Ethan," he muttered, already regretting this flight.
Chuck grinned. "Nice to meet ya, Ethan! You know what they say—life's all about the journey, not the destination."
Ethan gave him a tight smile, praying for silence.
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The Champagne Incident
As the flight attendant came by with pre-takeoff champagne, Ethan reached for his glass with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. Unfortunately, Chuck had other ideas.
"Cheers, buddy!" Chuck exclaimed, clinking his glass against Ethan's with so much enthusiasm that half the champagne spilled onto Ethan's lap.
Ethan froze, his jaw tightening as he stared at the stain spreading across his designer pants.
"Oh, man! Sorry about that," Chuck said, laughing nervously. "Here, let me help."
Before Ethan could protest, Chuck grabbed a handful of napkins and began dabbing at Ethan's lap.
"Stop!" Ethan hissed, batting Chuck's hands away. "I can handle it."
The flight attendant appeared, her eyes wide with alarm. "Is everything alright, sir?"
"Perfect," Ethan said through gritted teeth, ignoring Chuck's sheepish grin.
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The Crying Baby
The universe wasn't done with Ethan yet. Somewhere behind him, a baby started wailing. The sound was shrill and relentless, like an alarm that couldn't be turned off.
Ethan's eye twitched. He'd chosen first class specifically to avoid this kind of chaos. Yet here he was, trapped in a flying daycare.
"Cute kid, huh?" Chuck said, nodding toward the source of the noise. "Bet they're teething."
Ethan shot him a look that could've frozen molten lava. "Adorable," he deadpanned.
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The In-Flight Entertainment
Desperate for a distraction, Ethan decided to check out the in-flight entertainment. He selected a critically acclaimed drama, hoping to lose himself in its intricate plot.
But Chuck had other plans.
"Hey, what're you watching?" he asked, leaning over so far that Ethan could feel his breath on his neck.
"Something quiet," Ethan replied, angling his screen away.
"Mind if I watch with you?"
"Yes."
Chuck didn't take the hint. He pulled out his own headphones and synced his screen with Ethan's.
"Wow, this is intense!" Chuck whispered, as though they were in a movie theater.
Ethan sighed, wondering if it was too late to switch seats.
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The Turbulence
As if things couldn't get worse, the plane hit a patch of turbulence. The seatbelt sign dinged on, and the cabin shook like a rickety amusement park ride.
Chuck gripped the armrests, his knuckles turning white. "This is it," he muttered. "We're going down."
"We're not going down," Ethan said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
But Chuck wasn't convinced. "You ever seen those documentaries about plane crashes? It always starts like this!"
Ethan leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "I should've taken a train," he muttered.
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The Awkward Nap
Eventually, Chuck dozed off, snoring loudly enough to rival the airplane's engines. Unfortunately, his head lolled onto Ethan's shoulder, and no amount of subtle nudging could dislodge him.
Ethan sat rigid, his annoyance reaching critical levels. When the flight attendant passed by, he whispered, "Can you please move him?"
She stifled a laugh. "I'll see what I can do, sir."
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The Final Straw
Just when Ethan thought the ordeal was over, Chuck woke up with a start and spilled his second glass of champagne all over Ethan's shoes.
"Oops," Chuck said, chuckling nervously. "Guess I owe you a new pair, huh?"
Ethan stood, his patience completely gone. "Excuse me," he said, heading for the restroom.
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A Moment of Reflection
As he washed his hands, Ethan caught his reflection in the mirror. He looked exhausted, frazzled, and slightly sticky from all the champagne incidents.
What was he doing? Flying halfway across the world for a woman who might not even want to see him?
But then he thought of Sophie's laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she was excited about something.
Yes, it was worth it.
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Landing
When the plane finally touched down, Ethan practically bolted from his seat, eager to escape the chaos. Chuck waved enthusiastically.
"Good luck with whatever you're flying back for, buddy!"
Ethan nodded, already halfway down the aisle.
As he stepped into the terminal, he took a deep breath. He was here, back home, ready to face whatever came next—even if it meant enduring a thousand more flights like this one.