Chapter 2
During this period, it was very difficult to get a flight ticket. Economy class had already sold out. The only option left was a full-fare business class ticket, priced at 6 thousand dollars.
In the past, I definitely wouldn't have been willing to buy such an expensive ticket.
But today, I remembered the envelope in Sophia's hand.
I maxed out my credit card and bought the ticket.
It was my first time flying business class.
When I boarded, the flight attendant greeted me with a smile and showed me to my seat on the left.
As soon as I walked in, I spotted someone I recognized.
Richard was wearing the custom-made suit he'd had tailored for our anniversary, and he dropped to one knee.
He held a pair of fluffy pink slippers, carefully slipping off Sophia's high heels.
Sophia sat in the spacious leather chair, holding a glass of champagne, giggling as she said something.
Richard looked up at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness I'd never seen in him before.
He'd told me he was working on construction sites, doing inventory in warehouses, and pulling all-nighters for a few hundred bucks in bonuses.
So this was the "work site" he was talking about.
I stood in the middle of the aisle, gripping a flimsy hospital bag with my prenatal records stuffed inside.
Someone tried to squeeze by, but I was in the way, and they muttered under their breath.
Richard heard it and instinctively turned his head.
Our eyes met.
I thought he'd freak out, look totally lost, maybe jump up like a thief caught in the act, scrambling to explain himself.
But he didn't.
He simply gave a slight frown, like he'd found a misprint on a report.
He took his time slipping the slippers onto Sophia's feet, stood up, and smoothed his sleeves, though there wasn't a crease in sight.
Then he shifted sideways, subtly shielding Sophia from my gaze.
"Why are you here?" His voice was steady, but there was a trace of irritation, as if my presence was unwelcome.
"I came to give you some ravioli," I said, raising the bag in my hand.
Sophia leaned forward, her face flickering with surprise when she saw me, then quickly shifting to a look like she was waiting for the drama to unfold.
"Wow, so you're Helen? Look at your big belly," she said.
Richard glanced at her, signaling her to keep quiet, then strode over to me.
He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it hurt down to the bone.
He pulled me a few steps toward the cabin door, out of sight from everyone else.
"This is a public place. How long are you going to keep causing a scene? Don't let everyone watch the drama," he said, his voice dripping with disappointment, as if I was the one who cheated, as if I was the one with no shame.
"What scene am I causing?" I shot back, locking eyes with him. "I just bought a ticket and happened to bump into my husband."
Richard lowered his voice, his brow furrowed. "Helen, you need to be more sensible. Sophia is my key partner, and this trip is about a multi-million-dollar deal. You're embarrassing me by showing up here like this."
He gave me a once-over.
I was wearing a maternity dress I'd bought for ten bucks on a bargain site, and my sneakers had been worn for two years, the edges already coming unglued.
Meanwhile, Sophia's fur collar alone probably cost more than I'd have for having ten kids.
"Go sit in economy," Richard said, letting go of my wrist and shoving a few bills into my hand. "Don't make me embarrass you in front of everyone."
"There are no tickets left in economy," I said.
"Then get off and rebook for the next flight," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Richard, I'm your wife. I'm carrying your child," I said.
"That's exactly why you shouldn't be causing trouble here," he replied.
He glanced at his watch, starting to look impatient. "Sophia's easily scared. If you stick around, you'll throw her off and mess up the negotiations."
So he thought my existence was enough to be a threat.
The final boarding call echoed through the cabin, urging everyone to wrap things up.
A flight attendant came over to see what was happening.
Richard switched to his gentlemanly demeanor and said to her, "Sorry, this lady isn't feeling well. Could you maybe help her find somewhere to rest, or check if there's an empty seat in the back?"
He turned away, not sparing me another glance, and walked straight back to Sophia.
He picked up a blanket and carefully draped it over her legs.
The flight attendant politely ushered me to the fold-down seat in the very last row.
It was crammed beside the bathroom, with people constantly shuffling past, and the air smelled horrible.
The plane took off.
Peeking through the curtain, I could see the cozy lights up front in business class.
Meanwhile, in my spot at the back, all I got was freezing air blasting down from the vent overhead.