“Listen, Celeste,” he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
I studied him.
“All right.”
He glanced toward the flight attendant.
“So we’re good now?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
He continued.
“Because I really don’t want this turning into some official complaint.”
There it was.
He wasn’t asking whether my hip felt better.
He wasn’t concerned about the discomfort he’d caused.
He was worried about himself.
I closed my book.
“I haven’t decided whether I’ll report the incident.”
His expression hardened.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
He lowered his voice.
“I travel for work all the time. I can’t have some complaint attached to my name over something this stupid.”
I looked at him calmly.
“Then perhaps you should have listened when I first asked you to move.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“You’re really going to create trouble for me over a crowded airplane seat?”
