My husband, Tyler, has been a commercial pilot for almost nine years, but our 7-year-old son, Mason, had never actually been a passenger on a plane his dad was flying.

 

I read it twice.

 

He still had no idea we were there.

 

Or perhaps he did, and he simply didn’t care.

 

I typed a single question.

 

Me: Who is Vanessa to you?

 

The reply came almost immediately.

 

Tyler: This isn’t the time. Please trust me.

 

I nearly laughed.

 

Trust him.

 

I had trusted him when he said he was working late.I had trusted him when he explained the unexplained hotel charges on our joint credit card. I had trusted him when he claimed that Vanessa was nothing more than an old colleague.

 

And now he was asking me to trust him while declaring his love for her to an entire airplane.

 

I put my phone away.

 

When the wheels touched the runway in Chicago, Mason looked toward the window without saying a word.