70. Waikiki Beach

George Galanti

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At the start of our honeymoon, Abigail had been excited about the private jet, but she was already done with it.

Since she heard that we were flying for over sixteen hours, she’d been whining nonstop. She’d taken three short naps and we still hadn’t arrived. I allowed her to sleep as much as she liked because we took off around ten. By the time we arrived in Honolulu, it was going to be around two in the afternoon because of the twelve-hour time difference between Paris and Honolulu.

We had been on air for ten hours and we still had six more hours to go. To say Abigail was unhappy was an understatement. She was excited about Hawaii, don’t get me wrong. What put her off was the amount of time we were spending on the air. According to her, it was almost a full day.

While she slept, I checked with my secretary and Zara on how things were over in New York. When she woke up, I knew I wouldn’t get any more work done so I just closed my laptop and set it aside as she crawl