Page 34 of In Flight

“Something with his heart. He’s had some trouble with it for the past ten years. But my mom... She didn’t sound hopeful this time.”

“I’m so sorry. No wonder you’re not yourself. Are you really close to him?”

“Yeah. Pretty close. My grandparents lived right down the block from us while I was growing up, so they were always a big part of my life. My grandmother died five years ago, but Grandpa always seemed so healthy. I thought he’d...” He shakes his head and closes his eyes, resting it back against the headrest.

I reach over and squeeze his forearm. He’s pushed the sleeves of his shirt up, so my hand closes over his bare skin.

He doesn’t pull away, so I keep my hand there, needing to comfort him however I can.

“The worst thing...” he begins in a hoarse murmur. “The worst thing is that part of me doesn’t want to go home. Doesn’t want to... to go through this. I’d rather stay away and pretend the whole thing isn’t happening. What kind of person does that make me?”

“It makes you anormalperson!” I squeeze his arm again and shift in my seat so I’m facing him directly. “Isaac, stop beating yourself up for a normal reaction. Everyone probably feels that way in similar situations. At least a whole lot of us would. Of course you want to avoid going through something that is likely to be incredibly hard. But you’re not running away from it. You’re on this flight right now. You’re heading home. And you’ll go to the hospital and see your grandpa and do what your family needs you to do. It’s okay towantto avoid something that’s going to hurt you as long as you don’t act on it when other people need you.”

I’m crying again, which is ridiculous. But I’ve always been an easy crier, and I feel so deeply for Isaac right now that there’s no way to hold it back.

Isaac is not crying. That’s not any sort of surprise. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never cried in front of other people since he became an adult. He’s the kind of man who believes he should always be strong.

He is strong, but he’s still human. And he needs me right now. I know it with a certainty I’ve rarely felt before.

So I mop my face and blow my nose and pull myself together. Then I raise the armrest between our seats so I can scoot closer to him. He’s not likely to let me pull him into a hug, so I take his whole arm and hug that instead, leaning my head against him.

He doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure he’s capable of it at the moment.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because he needs me, and I’m here.

***

HE’S QUIET FOR THEremainder of the flight, but he squares his shoulders when we land and tells me he’s going to head right for the hospital.

I’m tempted to ask for his phone number so I can text and check in to see how things are going and how he’s doing, but that’s a big step, and this isn’t the right time for it.

He’ll tell me on Sunday evening how the weekend went.

We deboard together, and I give his arm one more squeeze as we turn down the hall that leads to the exit.

“Okay. I’ll be thinking about you. I hope he’s okay, and if he’s not, I hope you and your family hold up okay.”

“Thank you.” He makes a weird, jerky move, like he was starting to do something but stopped himself. He turns. Takes a deep breath. “I can do it.”

“Youcando it.” I rub his shoulder. Remind myself he’s not mine to pull into a hug. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

“See you.” He starts walking away from me but stops and turns back around. “Oh. Did you do it?”

I blink for a moment until I realize what he’s asking. Then I flush. Duck my head. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

His face changes slightly, but he only nods and starts walking away again.

Now is not the right time to process what it means. That I broke up with Cash. That Isaac is pleased by the news.

That can wait. Until later.

Maybe by then I’ll have figured out exactly how I feel about it myself.

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