Spending Christmas with Mr arrogant

~NORA

"Your flight is departing on time, Miss Parker," the attendant said briskly. "We're expecting some light turbulence, but the captain will keep you informed."

I nodded absently, taking the boarding pass from her hand. My fingers trembled. For a second, I imagined crumpling it up, throwing it in the nearest trash can, and retreating to the safety of my apartment. I could disappear there, drown out the world, and pretend none of this was happening.

But Sam wouldn't let me. She'd practically dragged me onto this trip, convinced it would help me breathe, heal, and start over.

Except how do you heal when the person you trusted most ripped your world apart?

I glanced up at the clock above the counter. The flight was boarding soon. My chest tightened, and I forced myself to move, to keep walking. I shoved my passport into my bag and muttered a quick "Thanks" before turning toward the gate, my body running on autopilot.

The airport buzzed with its usual chaos—blaring announcements, hurried footsteps, muffled conversations. It felt like too much, closing in on me, amplifying the ache in my chest.

This trip was supposed to be perfect. Jake and I, away for the holidays, a romantic getaway I'd been planning for months. Instead, I'd walked into his apartment last week, arms full of takeout, to find him tangled in bed with someone else.

His fucking stepsister.

I bit down hard on my cheek, willing the memory to dissolve, willing the tears to stay buried.

"Nora Parker, please report to gate B7 for boarding."

The announcement jolted me back to the present. I blinked and took a steadying breath, forcing my feet forward.

The boarding process blurred by, and soon I was stepping onto the plane. I scanned the rows for my seat—16C. A man with neatly styled brown hair and an unreadable expression sat in the aisle seat. His posture was unnervingly calm, as if turbulence wouldn't faze him.

"Excuse me," I murmured, sliding into the window seat and doing my best not to brush against him.

He didn't respond, not even a glance in my direction.

Great.

Settling into my seat, I gripped the armrests as the plane began to taxi. I hated flying. Always had. But now, that fear seemed insignificant compared to the wreckage of my life. Jake's betrayal wasn't just a broken promise—it shattered everything I thought I knew. Four years. Gone. Just like that.

The plane picked up speed, and my stomach twisted. I gripped the armrests harder, my knuckles going white as we lifted into the air.

"Please fasten your seatbelts," the captain's voice crackled over the intercom. "We're expecting turbulence ahead."

The plane jolted, dipping sharply, and my breath caught in my throat. My palms slicked with sweat as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to calm the panic rising in my chest.

It didn't help.

The thought slammed into me: What if this plane crashes? My heart raced as the plane jolted again, tossing me sideways into the man beside me.

"Careful," he muttered, nudging me upright with a steady hand. His deep blue eyes flicked to mine for a moment before he leaned back, entirely unbothered.

"S…sorry," I stammered, heat rushing to my face.

He remained silent, his attention drifting back to whatever occupied him, his composed demeanor a jarring counterpoint to the chaos in my mind.

I turned toward the window, embarrassed but too rattled to care. The turbulence worsened, the plane shuddering as if it might come apart. My breath came in ragged gasps, each inhale harder than the last.

"I hate flying," I blurted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "I can't stop thinking about everything. My life's a mess. I don't even know who I am anymore."

Out of the corner of my eye, the man raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, but he stayed silent.

The plane jolted again, and I clutched the armrests, my voice rising. "I don't even know why I'm on this flight. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to be with Jake. My boyfriend—well, my ex-boyfriend now."

The words just kept spilling out. "We were together for four years. And last week…" My throat tightened. "Last week, I walked in on him with someone else. His stepsister." The words tasted bitter, even now. "And now I'm here because my best friend decided I needed to get away. Said it would be healing."

I laughed hollowly. "But what if it's not? What if I can't heal? What if I'm just... broken?"

Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back furiously. The man beside me stayed still, offering neither words nor reaction.

The plane jolted again, and I sucked in a sharp breath. "What if this plane crashes?" I whispered, mostly to myself. "I keep thinking, this is how I die. Crying over Jake and his stupid stepsister on a flight I didn't even want to take. What a way to go."

The turbulence eased, and the captain's voice came over the intercom, startling me. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've begun our descent. Please remain seated and ensure your seatbelts are fastened."

Descent? I blinked, confused. My gaze darted to the window. Sure enough, the ground was coming into view, cars moving along highways like tiny ants.

The man beside me finally stirred. Without turning my way, he muttered, "You can relax now. We're landing."

I froze, heat rushing to my face. Oh my God. I'd spent the entire flight spilling my guts to a complete stranger.

As soon as the seatbelt sign dinged off, I sprang from my seat, grabbing my bag with shaking hands. "Uh… thanks for, um, listening. Or not. Whatever," I mumbled, barely audible over the noise of passengers unbuckling their belts.

I didn't dare look at him as I darted down the aisle, my cheeks on fire. Behind me, I thought I heard a soft chuckle, but I didn't turn around. I was too busy fleeing, desperate to leave this humiliating flight—and him—behind.

The rush of passengers exiting the plane was overwhelming, their voices a blur of noise. I barely registered the signage overhead as I made my way through the gate and into the terminal.

Chicago. The sign above the arrivals area stood out in bold, welcoming letters.

Stepping into the city after such a turbulent flight felt almost surreal. As I moved through the terminal, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything around me was moving in fast-forward, a blur of hurried bodies and echoing voices.

The city's holiday cheer washed over me as I stepped into the cold, with twinkling lights, oversized wreaths, and the faint scent of pine mingling with carolers' songs. It was festive and beautiful—yet it felt completely out of place against the storm raging in my chest.

The city blurred past in a rush of headlights and the occasional flash of snowy sidewalks as I climbed into a taxi. The driver nodded a greeting, and I sank into the backseat, staring out the window, lost in thought.

I wondered if I'd ever get past what had happened. Jake's betrayal, my heartache, the plane ride that felt like a desperate confession to a stranger I'd never see again—everything felt like a blur, as though I were suspended between two lives. One had fallen apart, and another was waiting to be lived. But I couldn't shake the fear that I was broken beyond repair.

As the taxi rolled to a stop, I blinked. The resort before me looked nothing like what I'd imagined. The name Sips and Pines was emblazoned across the front, set against a backdrop of tall, winter-kissed trees.

The building itself was a modern yet rustic structure—wood and stonework blending seamlessly with the surrounding nature. Snow clung to the roofline, and frosted trees surrounded the entrance, giving it a fairytale look.

The driver quickly unloaded my luggage, and I made my way inside.

Inside, a towering fireplace stood at the center of the lobby, and flames crackled from the hearth. The warmth of the interior was a welcome relief, though it couldn't quite reach the chill in my heart.

I walked up to the reception desk, where a young woman behind the counter greeted me with a polite smile. "Welcome to Sips and Pines. How can I assist you today?"

"Hi, I'm Nora Parker. I have a reservation for a suite," I said, the exhaustion of the journey weighing on me.

She glanced at the computer screen, her fingers flying over the keys. A moment passed, and then her smile faltered. "I'm afraid there's been a mix-up with your reservation, Miss Parker. It seems we're fully booked, and there are no available suites left. However," she added quickly, "the only option left is to share a suite with another guest. It seems there was a similar issue with their booking as well."

Just great. Things couldn't get any worse right?

Reluctantly, I nodded. I wasn't thrilled about sharing a space with a stranger, but I had little choice. "Alright, I'll take it."

She handed me a key card and directed me to the suite area.

As I walked toward the suite, my mind was still reeling. I didn't know what to expect—who this other guest might be. But when I stepped inside, a wave of dread washed over me.

There, sitting on one of the plush armchairs, his deep blue eyes meeting mine once more, was the same man from the plane.