73
Huxley
“Uh, yeah. She is.”
“And she’s coming home on this flight?”
No. I’m sitting here because I feel like it. I just nod.
The woman smiles and looks forward.
“My kids are coming home too. I told them not to because of this storm, but they insisted. Said they missed me too much to stay where they were.” She looks back at me. “Your girlfriend must miss you a great deal as well to get on the plane in this weather.”
I look back at my phone, Valentina’s picture shining back at me on my lockscreen. I didn’t think about it that way. That she could be missing me enough to risk her life on the plane. But even if that’s the case, I’d rather her be safe than not.
“You told her not to come home, didn’t you?”
I look back at the woman. “How do you know that?”
She smiles. “Because that’s the thing about love. Either you risk it all to be with each other, or you try your best to protect the other person from harm. Neither way feels perfect all the time. But no matter which path you take, if the love is true, you’ll always make it to the same destination.”
I start to smile, but a static voice rings through the terminal.
“We’ve hit a patch of turbulence. This storm is stronger than they said.”
We shouldn’t be able to hear the pilots. Then again, I’ve never been on a plane before. Maybe when things get bad, they can signal the terminal directly.
“Turn off autopilot! We need to get past this!”
Everyone around me starts panicking, but I zero in on the radio that’s my only source of information on Val.
“I can’t see anything! And pressure is dropping too fast!”
This isn’t happening. She’s not dying in a fucking plane.
“Stop…we…find…”
The woman at the terminal desk tries to talk to the plane, but nothing comes through.
Nothing comes through.
Did…I…I can’t be here.
I get up and start pacing the waiting area, which only makes others more on edge. The woman keeps trying to contact the plane, but there’s not even static coming through. Just nothing. Pure silence. And every second without news chips away at my heart.
“We’re entering the airport now.” My head snaps towards the radio, along with everyone else’s. “We’re going to need an ambulance. Several injured. One possibly deceased.”
My whole world stumbles below me. Deceased? How did someone die on the plane? And was it…
I grip my hair tightly and walk away from the terminal. I can’t be here if it’s her. It can’t be. But the thought alone is tearing me up inside. I can’t…I can’t lose her like this. I need her here. I need her with me. I need to hold her again and tell her I’m sorry.
I need her to look at me and smile. I need to hear her breathe. Hear her sing. Watch her laugh. Hold her when she cries. Kiss her goodnight. Touch her in ways that she’s never felt before. There’s still so much I want to show her. So much I want to experience with her. I need her. I need her.
“Huxley?” My head snaps to the side where she stands, safe and alive.
“Oh my god.” I run up to her and pull her into my chest. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” I push her back and start scanning her for injuries. “You’re here. You’re alright.” My voice cracks.
“Huxley,” she whispers.
“You’re alive.”
“Huxley.” She grabs my face and holds me still. “I’m okay.”
I pull her back to me, not wanting to ever let her go again. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know. You’re here. You’re home.”
She pulls back enough to let me see her face. Her beautiful face, finally in front of me again. “You had nothing to worry about. The weather wasn’t that bad.”
“Don’t lie to me, Valentina,” I weakly snap. I can feel the tears brewing beneath the surface. “We all heard.”
She frowns. “Heard what?”
“Your plane called in over the radio about turbulence. And then…” My voice cracks, and the flood breaks. Val’s eyes widen as tears stream down my face.
I’ve never cried in front of her before. But nothing like this was supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to be seconds away from her dying on a plane.
“They lost contact with your plane,” I say, struggling to continue. “And when they came back, they said they needed an ambulance. And then people were running and crying, and I didn’t think I could handle them saying you were hurt.”
She reaches up and holds my face, gently wiping away my tears. “I’m right here, baby,” she whispers. “And I’m sorry for scaring you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t leave me again.”
She pulls me back into her arms and gently brushes her fingers through my hair. “I’m right here. I’m right here.”
I bury my face in her neck to hide the sob that comes out. I’ve never been so scared. Even after everything in my life, this moment, almost losing her, was the scariest I’ve ever encountered.
But something in my heart tells me that this is just the beginning. That she won’t stay for long. And I cry harder.
She’s here right now, but I don’t know how much longer we really have.