Page 108 of Rupture

Two weeks later.

The Dunstable Downs stretched out before Finn, rolling green hills beneath a sky streaked with scattered clouds. The last two weeks with Rose in London had been a revelation.

Mornings where he woke tangled in sheets, Rose’s head resting on his chest as dawn crept across her bedroom floor. Evenings of slow dinners and half-finished glasses of wine, her laughter untying something long-knotted inside him—until they inevitably surrendered to the pull of skin against skin.

Every shared moment had been its own kind of happiness. It didn’t erase the past, but it made living with it easier.

And today was something more. Something he had waited patiently for. The perfect sky.

He led her across the grass toward the sleek white glider waiting on the airfield. His gait was smoother today, the physical therapist's punishing session yesterday having loosened a stubborn knot of scar tissue. The healing was slowbut certain—just like everything else worth having in his life.

Watching her face, he felt a flutter in his chest he hadn't experienced since his first solo flight.Anticipation.

“This is beautiful.” Rose walked the length of the sailplane, trailing her fingertips along its smooth surface, admiring the graceful aerodynamics of the wings. Her face was lit with curiosity. “Where’s the engine?”

“There isn’t one. This is a glider, not a powered plane. Another aircraft takes us up, then we unhook and ride the air currents.”

She looked at him, her eyes widening. “There’s no engine? We just glide?”

“It’s a lot of fun,” he said, reaching for her hand. “You up for it?”

“I survived mad nano-robots in the desert. I can survive this.” Her fingers tightened around his, betraying her nerves despite her brave words.

As the tow pilot completed his pre-flight checks, Finn helped Rose into the sailplane. His hands were steady as he secured her seatbelt, though his heart raced with an unfamiliar nervousness.

“Do you do this for all the ladies?” she teased, her voice light, but her eyes searching his face.

“I’ve never taken a woman up before.”

“Really?” Her voice was breathy as she looked at him, her chest rising and falling too fast.

“Really.” He adjusted her headset, then pressed a kiss to her lips, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “There’s never been anyone I wanted to take up.”

Never been anyone who mattered enough to share this part of himself with.

He climbed into the front seat and lowered the bubblecockpit. The tow plane pilot’s voice crackled in his headset as the engine rumbled to life.

The tow rope tightened, jerking them into motion. Finn checked the controls. “Rose, you okay back there?”

“Um, I think so.” The roar of the tow plane dwarfed her voice, but there was trust in it.

His stomach dipped as the glider lifted, the aircraft ahead pulling them higher and higher until the clouds fell away beneath them and they broke through into the sunlight. The world opened up, a patchwork of fields and forests stretching to the horizon.

The tow pilot’s voice came over the comms. “Ready for disengagement.”

They’d reached 3,000 feet. Below them, the earth was a living map.

“Confirmed. Releasing.” Finn pulled the red knob. The tow rope snaked away, and they were suddenly gloriously alone. The tow plane climbed in a tight left turn, while Finn banked right, feeling the craft settle into the sky.

He eased the glider north, seeking the invisible rivers of air he knew were there, trusting his instincts honed through years of flight. Bumps beneath his feet told him he was on the right track.

“Finn!” Rose’s voice shot up several octaves behind him.

“You okay?”

A hiccupy laugh. “I am. God, Finn, it’s so beautiful up here.”

Grinning, he angled the craft south, guiding them into the golden light of the horizon. He read the sky the way other people read maps, searching for thermals and ridge lift—those invisible highways of wind rising from the hills.

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