Instead, he sounded so sincerely unhappy about it that I almost smiled.
“Five minutes,” I said.
“Five minutes.”
I adjusted Fiona, who was watching a cartoon with headphones on, and carefully rested my head against Luca’s shoulder.
Across the aisle, the phone lowered.
One of the women ahead turned around once more, saw us, and faced forward.
Luca exhaled.
“Thank you.”
“You owe me coffee.”
“Done.”
I closed my eyes.
I planned to count to sixty.
I remembered reaching twenty-three.
The next thing I knew, somebody was announcing our descent into New York.
I opened my eyes.
For several seconds, I had no idea where I was.
Then I realized my cheek was still against Luca’s shoulder.
I sat upright so quickly I nearly knocked over his water.
“Oh my God.”
He smiled.
“Good morning.”
“How long was I asleep?”
“About an hour and forty minutes.”
“You let me sleep on you for almost two hours?”
