Page 74 of Between Here and There

“I, uh, bumped you up again,” I say, gesturing for her to sit with me. Her eyes widen. “I upgraded it when I paid for the first flight. I forgot to tell you.” The truth is, I planned for this to be a surprise, so I can be smug and tease her when we return. But our whole dynamic has shifted, and teasing her doesn’t sound like a good idea.

“Thank you,” she says as she offers me a soft smile. I take her luggage and lead her to our seats.

I put her luggage overhead, and she offers me an awkward smile. She takes her seat and fumbles with her seatbelt. I glance at her, and our eyes meet briefly before she looks away instantly. I look down, giving her space.

The plane is about to take off, and beside me, Emily is clutching her seat, her knuckles white as she grips the armrests. I remember her fear of flying, and without a second thought, I extend my arm so she can grab my hand, completely forgetting about any awkwardness. Emily doesn’t hesitate as she takes it and grips it with the same strength she did during the first flight.

“I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it a thousand times more until you believe me,” I whisper, my voice steady with resolve. “You’ll never face anything alone as long as I’m here, Emily.”

She blinks up at me, her lips parting slightly as if she’s about to say something but can’t quite find the words. Finally, she whispers, “Thank you.” Her grip on my hand tightens. “We’re okay?” she asks, her voice laced with uncertainty. It’s the question both of us have been dancing around for days.

“Of course,” I say, hoping to ease at least a little bit of the tension.

I look at our intertwined hands, and gather the courage to say what’s been in my head for these past days. “I don’t want to go back to being strangers.”

She looks up. “Me too,” she says.

But before I can say anything else—before I can suggest that maybe we could try to be something more—she continues, her words cutting through me like a blade.

“We can be friends.”

Friends. I swallow hard, forcing a smile.

Just when I thought I could try something real. Just when I thought maybe I could be the person who commits.

But she doesn’t see me the way I see her. I thought—maybe—but no. She’s drawing a line, and I don’t understand it. She’s always been there, in a way that feels more than just friends, hasn’t she? Or is that just me, getting ahead of myself, hoping for something that was never there to begin with?

I want to ask her why, but I know that’s not my place. If that’s what she wants, if that’s what she’s comfortable with, then I’ll take it. It’s better than nothing, better than losing her entirely.

“Sure,” I say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue. “I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Emily

Friends?! What in the world was that, Emily?!

In my defense, I just wanted the tension to go away. I wanted to rewind, to go back to how we were before the hike—before the tent, before that lingering look that still plays on a loop in my mind. We were easy then, weren’t we? Comfortable. Just harmless, playful flirting. A weird sort of us that didn’t need defining. And now? Now it feels like we’re on the edge of something, and I’m terrified of falling.

Besides, what was I supposed to say? Hey, Josh, I think I might be in love with you, and it’s driving me insane.Yeah, no. For all I know, he’s still the same commitment-phobe he’s always been, the guy who casually mentions how he ‘doesn’t do labels’ and would rather talk about work than feelings. What if I told him how I feel and he just… laughed? Or worse, what if he got that look on his face—the one that says I’ve completely misunderstood the nature of our relationship?

So, yeah. I panicked. And instead of saying something real, something honest, I said ‘friends.’

And now I’m here, clutching his big, strong hand. The plane jolts slightly as it ascends, and I tighten my grip. He doesn’t pull away. If anything, his thumb brushes against mine, so subtle I might have imagined it.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s staring straight ahead, his jaw tight, his profile unfairly perfect. I wonder what he’s thinking. Does he regret reaching for my hand? Is he replaying my stupid ‘friends’ comment in his head, realizing how pathetic I sounded?

I close my eyes and take a shaky breath. Maybe being friends is enough. Maybe it’s better this way. No expectations, no heartbreak, no faking anything.

At least, if we’re ‘friends,’ he gets to stick around.

PART THREE

Home is where the heart is

(For real this time)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Emily

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