One of Tyler’s flight attendants stood outside, pretending not to look in our direction.
“I can sit there.”
I crouched beside him.
“You sure?”
He nodded.
“Just for a minute.”
I kissed his forehead.
“Stay where I can see you.”
“I will.”
He walked outside carrying his backpack.
The flight attendant bent down and said something to him.
Mason nodded.
She handed him a small bottle of water.
Then he sat in a chair directly outside the glass.
I could still see him.
Only then did I turn back toward Tyler.
“Now,” I said. “Tell me everything.”
—
Tyler’s story came out in pieces.
Not because it was complicated.
Because lies never fit neatly together once you start pulling them apart.
He and Vanessa had known each other before he met me.
That part, apparently, was true.
They had dated for three years.
They had broken up when Tyler began flight
