Page 6 of CowSex

My nose is tingling, and I can feel a tremble in my jaw. I need to stop talking, otherwise, I’m gonna cry.

“The thing is—and I’m sorry for swearing, but zero fucks were given on my end when Reggie told me about his family. I couldn’t care less if he’d been raised in the jungle by wolves. I love him, end of story. If he’d given me the opportunity, I probably would’ve loved his family, too.”

I let out a long sigh as I finish my drink and stare again at the flight tracker on the screen in front of me. “I’m drunk, so I do apologise for going on, but thanks for listening. I’m gonna shut up now and watch a film.”

I press my call button. “After I get another drink,” I add.

“Don’t worry about it, Gracie, it sounds like you have a lot to think about.”

I nod in agreement, and once my wine glass gets refilled, I look at the photos I’ve saved on my phone of the town where I am staying.

I originally booked a luxury log cabin in the foothills of some ski resort near Aspen for Reggie and myself, but I had to change the location as they wouldn’t let me extend my stay due to other reservations. After explaining my circumstances to the softly spoken Alma-May on the telephone, she found me an alternative cabin that is a little higher in the mountains and not quite as fancy as what I originally booked. It doesn’t matter since it was the only thing available for the whole six months my visa would allow me to stay. This means that not only will I get to see Colorado in the winter, but I’ll also get to see it in the spring and part of summer, too.

Hopefully, staying in what looked as close to Eden as I could get after spending the last five years in a twenty-fifth-floor apartment in East London, I would feel inspired and come up with some new designs for my fashion line.

I press the touch screen in front of me and scroll through the in-flight film choices.

Nothing from the new releases grabs me, so I go to the classics and favourites.

I call for another top up of wine and settle in with my not-so-fun-size half-filled glass of red and watchMe Before You.

I read the book.

I thought I would be fine.

I was wrong. Very, very wrong.

I am also very, very, drunk.

And emotional.

By the end of the film, I’m an absolute mess.

I lie my lie-back seat all the way down and pull my blanket over my head. And then I cry. And I cry. And I cry some more.

I cry for Will. I cry for Louisa. I cry for me, and I cry for Reggie.

I cry about the unfairness of life. The lives that none of us will ever get to live.

When Dayna leans across and asks if I’m okay, I cry even harder.

The tight-arsed stewardess, who only filled my wine glass halfway, makes me sit up. She kneels beside me, passes me tissues as I blubber, and then presses a bottle of water into my hand.

I know everyone in business class is probably staring, some are probably filming my entire meltdown, but I am too far gone to give a monkey’s left bollock.

BY THE TIME WE LANDin Denver, I’m only a little less emotional and somewhat sober, but nowhere near sober enough to drive.

I thank Dayna for looking after me, and we say our goodbyes before I collect my three large suitcases and call Kod.

“Bitch, this better be good.”

I sniff.

“Gracie?”

“I wanna come home,” I sob.

“What the fuck happened?”