Page 86 of From Rivals to I Do

The drive to the airport is a whirlwind of emotions. The towering skyscrapers, the bustling streets, the endless stream of yellow taxis—a little slice of America, swoosh past. Each passing landmark serves as a silent farewell, a reminder of the life I’d once built here.

As we approach the airport, the traffic thickens, and my anticipation grows. I’ve always been a man of few possessions, and my luggage reflects that. Two small, carry-on bags and a laptop case are all I have with me for the journey.

We pull up to the bustling airport entrance, and I hand the driver some cash before stepping out. The airport is a hive of activity, noisy with voices and rolling luggage. Travelers rushing to-and-fro, each with their own destination and purpose. I navigate the crowds with ease, years of traveling honing my ability to move efficiently. The familiar scent of jet fuel and the drone of announcements over the intercom fill the air, a symphony of travel.

I breeze through the check-in process, a well-practiced routine. My flight to Japan awaits, and I make my way to the gate. The airport is a melting pot of cultures and languages, a testament to the global nature of modern life.

As I approach the gate, I’m greeted by a chorus of smiles from the flight attendants. They’re too nice, I think to myself, but I offer a polite nod in return. One of them, a young woman with a flirtatious glint in her eye, steps forward.

“Hello there,” she says, her voice honeyed with charm. “Welcome aboard. My name’s Emily. Is there anything I can assist you with?”

I give her a tight-lipped smile, not one to indulge in idle conversation. “I’m all set, thank you.”

Emily doesn’t seem deterred by my curt response. She leans in a bit closer, her gaze unwavering. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

I raise an eyebrow, my tone laced with sarcasm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She saunters away, leaving me to find my seat. The plane is surprisingly full for a mid-week flight, but I locate my seat in an empty row near the back. It’s a stroke of luck, or perhaps a way of being granted some peace and solitude.

I settle into my seat by the window on the plane, and two empty seats sit ahead of me, leaving me a bit more space to stretch out. I can’t help but replay my conversation with Emily in my mind. Her flirtatious demeanor is nothing new, and I’ve become adept at deflecting such advances. It’s a skill I’ve honed over the years, a protective armor I wear to keep the world at bay.

The hum of conversation fills the air as passengers continue to board. I take a moment to glance around, curious about the people who will be sharing this flight.

Turning my head to the left, I see a middle-aged couple, their heads bent close together as they discuss something with animated expressions. They seem comfortable, and their easy laughter hints at a long history together. It’s a stark contrast to the solitude I’ve grown accustomed to.

On the other side of the aisle, in the seats adjacent to mine, a young woman sits absorbed in a novel. Her concentration is impressive, her lips occasionally forming a silent word as she reads. The book in her hands is well-worn, a seemingly trusted companion for such a journey. I myself had loved reading novels, especially during my travels. All I could boast of now was a scanty library, empty from lending books that were never returned.

The flight attendants bustle about, preparing for takeoff. One of them, a young woman with a bright smile and sparkling eyes, approaches me. Her nametag reads, ‘Jenny’.

“Hello, sir,” she says with a hint of flirtatiousness in her voice. “Welcome aboard. Can I offer you anything to drink before we take off?”

I nod politely, resisting the urge to smile back as I feel her eyes linger a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll have a water, thank you.”

Jenny retrieves a bottle of water from her cart and hands it to me with a smile that could rival the neon lights of Times Square. “Here you go, sir. If you need anything else during the flight, just let me know.”

I mumble my thanks, feeling slightly amused by the interaction.

The flight hums with the steady drone of conversation and the occasional rustle of passengers settling into their seats. As I turn to glance at the passengers in front of me. My eyes meet those of a woman who’s just entered the plane. She seems to be in a hurry, her movements slightly erratic. My gaze is drawn to her, and I find myself unable to look away.

Her tanned skin is a contrast to the mostly pale faces around her, and her brown hair flows untamed. Her shirt has streaks of vibrant colors that hint at an artistic soul. She exudes a certain energy, a unique charm that sets her apart from the usual travelers on this plane. But I’m not bothered. I don’t mind.

And she’s not alone; there’s a child with her, a boy of about five years old. His pale skin and auburn hair contrast starkly with her own appearance. The woman, presumably his guardian, appears to be slightly out of breath, and beads of sweat have formed on her forehead.

As she scurries into the seat beside mine, her hurried entrance catches the attention of nearby passengers. She mutters to herself, and I catch a relieved sigh escape her lips. She then turns to me, her eyes meeting mine, and offers a somewhat breathless, “Hello.”

“Hello,” I respond, caught off guard by her sudden presence. She adds, “My bad,” with a sheepish smile.

I nod, unsure of what to make of the situation. The woman then proceeds to settle the young boy into the seat between hers and mine. She ensures he’s properly seated and assists him with buckling his seatbelt, all the while reassuring him that there’s nothing to be scared of. It becomes evident that this is the boy’s first time on an airplane.

“It’s his first time,” she says, turning to look at me.

I almost tell her, “I know.” But I don’t. I give her a flat smile and reach into my pocket for my earbuds.

I watch the interaction with a sense of detachment, mildly bemused by the unfolding scene. People, I think to myself. They could be unpredictable and often intrude into your personal space without warning. I offer no more than a nod in response to her explanations and words of reassurance.

Soon, the pilot gives an announcement, and the plane begins to taxi. The passengers around me settle into their seats, some pulling out books, others plugging in headphones, and a few closing their eyes to catch some sleep. I, too, lean back in my seat, staring out of the window at the runway.

The engines roar to life, and the plane accelerates, hurtling down the runway before lifting off into the sky. The lady beside me holds the child’s hand and smiles at him, probably encouraging him as the plane lifts. I watch as the city of New York shrinks beneath us, the skyscrapers becoming tiny specks on the horizon.

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