Page 68 of In Flight

I’m flying back to Savannah. On what I hope is Isaac’s flight.

When I decided on this plan yesterday, my dad changed my ticket from the morning flight we’d originally scheduled, and when he went to reserve my seat, the one beside it was taken.

Surely that’s Isaac.

If he’s not on this flight today, I’m going to be sorely disappointed.

I’ve had a good week with my family. The best time I’ve had with them for a really long time. Raven left for her honeymoon trip on Friday, but she was around for a couple of days. Dad and I have been taking a drive down the coast nearly every day, and Mom and I have gone for tea every afternoon and to a pottery-painting place and to my favorite flea market. She’ll never be an earnest, open person, but her apology and resolve to do better with me has been written all over her face and manner.

She won’t miraculously change, but she’s trying. That and the geographical distance will be enough for me to be content with our relationship. That’s better than I used to believe was possible.

But right now my full spirit is focused solely on Isaac. On what I’ll say to him when I see him. On what he might say back.

I honestly have no idea how he’ll react, but I have to try.

He already knows I’m flighty. Maybe he won’t be surprised that I changed my mind.

If he is, he’s allowed to be. He’s also allowed to be careful. Protect his own heart. All I can do is offer and wait. The way he offered and waited for me.

When it’s my time to board, I stay seated until the line has mostly cleared. Then I greet the friendly gate attendant and make my way down the ramp and onto the plane.

The flight attendant is the normal one. She gives me a surprised smile and a wave but has no time to chat because she’s helping an elderly gentleman get settled in the business-class cabin.

The seat next to me is still empty when I sit down, but that’s not a surprise or particularly worrisome. I put down my tea and my phone and lean over to dig my sketchbook and knitting out of my bag since I’m not sure which one I’ll prefer to do.

Depending on what happens with Isaac, I might not want to do either one.

A familiar presence in the aisle at my row surprises me so much I jerk. I bump my head on the seat in front of me and rub it as I straighten.

Isaac. Wearing jeans and a long-sleeved black crewneck. Holding the strap of his bag with both hands. Completely motionless as he stares.

“Hi,” I say with a crack in my voice.

He clearly hasn’t shaved in a few days. There are shadows under his eyes and a hunch in his shoulders that’s never been there before. He looks...

Crushed.

In the exact same way I’ve been feeling.

His lips part, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“I’m here,” I say quite stupidly.

He blinks.

“I changed my mind.”

The strap slips out of his fingers and the bag drops. He barely catches it before it bangs on the floor. He collapses into his seat, still staring at me.

“I did,” I go on, forgetting my preplanned, coherent, gracious explanation and babbling everything out instead. “I changed my mind. I know it’s not fair, and I understand if you don’t want to bother anymore. But I was wrong. I mean, I wasn’t wrong entirely, but I was wrong to give up because it will be hard. Being long-distanceisgoing to be hard. But it’s not impossible. Couples do it. It doesn’t always tear people apart. And I’d like... I’d like to try.” I gulp. Twist my hands together. “I’d like to see what might happen between us. If... if you still want that too.”

He opens his mouth again, but still no sound comes out.

The flight attendant strides over with a sympathetic smile and puts Isaac’s suitcase into the overhead compartment for him. Then she picks up his bag, which he set in the middle of the aisle, and hands it to him.

She gives me a covert wink as she walks back to the front.

“You want to try?” he finally gets out.

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