Her Lost Paradise

Chapter 2

"Good afternoon, Madam and Sir. Would you like chicken or pasta?" the flight attendant asked, pushing a cart of snacks and beverages. She stood confidently, like a model.

"I'll have the pasta," I answered gracefully. I think I like her, not romantically, but as a friend.

"Madam, how about your husband? Would he like chicken or pasta?" she asked.

I blinked, shocked. Timothy is considered my husband? They see us as a happily married couple? Disgusting!

I looked at Timothy, who was sleeping soundly with his head resting on my shoulder. The i***t must be exhausted from last night—we had several rounds because I fell asleep on him. That's why we were late getting to the airport.

I'm grateful Timothy and I got projects in the Philippines, but sadly, he's in Manila, not Malibu.

I wanted to wake Timothy to ask him what he wanted to eat, but I felt bad because he was tired and sleepy. So I let him rest on my shoulder.

"I'll have two pastas, please," I decided.

"Okay, Madam. Anything to drink?" she asked.

"What kinds of soda do you have?" I asked curiously. "I'm on a diet for a photoshoot. I need to avoid sugar, salt, and extra calories. I'm not obsessed with my figure, but I need to be healthy and fit for my work and lifestyle. Being a model sucks. You have to maintain your figure. Imagine spending three hours in the gym just to burn calories and fat!"

"We have Coke, Diet Coke, Sprite, Orange, and Dr. Pepper," she answered gracefully, taking notes.

"Two Diet Cokes, no ice, please," I replied.

"Noted, Madam. Here you go, Madam and Sir. Enjoy your meal," she said happily, serving us two plates of pasta and two Diet Cokes.

After the flight attendant left, I decided to wake Timothy so we could eat together, knowing we'd both left without breakfast.

I gently tapped Timothy's cheek.

"Hey," he mumbled.

"Likewise, my sleepyhead maniac," I teased, but he just smiled.

"Tsked," he sighed, starting to eat his pasta. What the...? He didn't even invite me. He's already eating, and I woke him up so we could eat together.

Should I blame him for eating first without inviting me? Maybe he was really hungry, but it's still not right to not invite someone to eat, even if it's okay in bed, I thought, watching him eat heartily.

"Mione, you want some?" he asked out of the blue.

"Huh?" I chuckled, pouting.

"No, eat your own!" he pointed out.

"What? Eat you? " I replied innocently.

"What the f**k did you just say, Mione?!" he blurted out, catching his breath.

What did I say? I wondered.

"Mione?" he called out, breathlessly.

"Oh god, sorry, are you okay, Tim?" I asked, concerned, offering him my Diet Coke. He took it and drank.

"Chill, Mione. I know you miss me, but not here. There are passengers and crew around, so we can't make out," he said bluntly.

I was confused at first, but then my world turned upside down. I widened my eyes and pinched his side without hesitation.

"Ouch!" he murmured in pain. I smiled and gave him a knowing look.

"Now we're even," I whispered mischievously.

"Are you two alright out there, Madam and Sir?" someone asked over the intercom.

I froze, my good mood vanishing. I pinched and kicked Timothy.

"This is all your fault! You're such a flirt, Timothy. We had several rounds last night, and you're still not satisfied, huh?" I muttered in his ear.

"No, I'm satisfied with my baby, but I can't help myself from wanting you again and again," he whispered back.

"Nothing's happening here, it's just my wife and her little hormones, Captain," he replied over the intercom.

"What the f**k?!" I exclaimed, disbelieving his words to the captain—"It's just my wife and her little hormones"—and the "little hormones" part!

I was about to speak again when Timothy covered my mouth.

"Shh, baby," he sighed.

"Congratulations, Ma'am and Sir," the crew and captain replied.

I wonder why the captain's voice sounded a little jealous? I thought. Maybe that Fil-Am captain has a crush on me. Earlier, while waiting for Timothy at the airport, he tried to flirt with me, but Timothy showed up and saved me.

As usual, Timothy got mad at me and teased me about the consequences.

"Thank you," Timothy replied joyfully, smirking. "Come here, baby. Rest on my lap. My poor baby wife looks tired," he teased, extending his legs.

"f**k you!" I chuckled, settling into his lap.

"Why are you spacing out, baby? Is there something you want to tell me? Feel free, I'm all ears," he whispered seriously, gently combing my hair.

"Um, I was just thinking... what if...?" I purred.

"Shh, don't worry, I'll always be here," he replied simply.

"I know. And I'll always be here, too. Because I'm your one and only girl best friend with benefits," I teased, resuming eating.

After I finished eating, I rested comfortably in his lap. Timothy caressed and combed my hair as he had done earlier while I ate. It felt so good to be cared for by the man who unexpectedly became my true friend. Yes, Timothy unexpectedly came into my life. One day, when I was lost, a man with kind eyes caught my attention in the twilight. Those eyes saved me from misery and sadness. And the rest is history.

The details about him are something to be proud of, not to be shown off. Timothy is a great, caring man. He always smells good, and he's a fun companion. He always makes me laugh, mad, and angry, and he's the most troublesome, sweet person I've ever met. If I could turn back time, I would choose Timothy for my future, but sadly, I can't.

"Flight attendants, prepare for landing, please. Cabin crew, please take your seats. Ladies and gentlemen, we have been cleared to land at NAIA Airport in the Philippines," the captain announced.

"Baby, get up, we're already here," he blurted out.

"Hmmmm," I snorted, taking a playful nap to annoy him.

"Oh god, such a beautiful sleepyhead," he murmured.

"Nah, of course I'm a beauty," I snapped back.

"Tsked," Timothy mumbled, gently lifting me from his lap.

"What are you doing?" I growled, frustrated.

"Carrying you like a bride, baby? Remember, you're my little naughty wife who's never satisfied with just one or two rounds," he replied.

"f**k you!" I said, trying to annoy him again. "Put me down, Timothy! This is scandalous harassment! Put me down!" I begged, but he just smirked and continued carrying me.

This man is really getting on my nerves and into my heart. Oh god, what am I saying? Erase that, Mione—"He's just getting on your nerves, not the other way around"—and please, heart, don't. Remember, there's someone from the past you still need to figure out. Don't fall hard. There's still someone who owns you, I hope.

He continued carrying me as we disembarked the plane. Many people were staring and gossiping, including the handsome captain.

Oh s**t, Tim, I told you to put me down, and look what you've done! We're attracting attention like we committed some sin, I grumbled, explaining the situation to him, but he just shrugged and smirked.

I tried to cover my face with my hands out of embarrassment and frustration. Luckily, we were both wearing masks and aviators.

"But nah, let them be, baby. I want to carry you like this, and I don't give a f**k about those people and their silly perspectives. As long as they're staring or gossiping, it's fine with me. I only care about you, Hermione. It's only you, my baby," Timothy said, sighing.

Oh god, again! Please stop it, Timothy, you're really getting to me, I mumbled, cursing inwardly.

He finally put me down when we reached the bottom of the plane's stairs. We entered the NAIA International Airport hand-in-hand. He's always like that; Timothy holds my hand whenever we're outside or traveling. Our hands fit together perfectly.

"It's been a long time since I've been here. A long time since I've felt the air of my home country," I breathed, once inside the airport.

"Being far from your home country is like being far from your soul." It means our souls are partly left behind when we're away from home. We only have our bodies, but at the end of the day, as they say, we always come home.

"The airport has a magnificent view of the sunrise," I commented, taking in the beauty of my country.