Page 145 of When Worlds Collide
He frowned. “Why not.”
I crooked an eyebrow and looked at it pointedly. “It’s covered in the designer’s logo. It must be worth a fortune.”
He waved my objection away.
“It was a sponsorship gift. And it’ll make it easier for you to spot at baggage reclaim.”
His mouth raised in the lopsided smile I loved, and if I were just going home for the weekend, it would have made me smile.
“I don’t know when I’ll be able to get it back to you,” I muttered, turning back around, pretending to straighten something out on the bed.
“I don’t care about the luggage.”
A moment later, strong arms wound around my waist, anchoring me to him, as if we could stay here in this moment. And, for a while, I let myself pretend, too.
Before long, and with me sitting on the case, we managed to fit most of my stuff into the bags I had.
I’d had to draw the line at the dress. It was just too much. I couldn’t bear to try and squeeze it in. The delicate crystals, the flowing skirt… it deserved better.
“The next time you wear it,” Jihoon said, holding it between us like a promise, “you’ll be with me, because you’ve come back.” His voice cracked and he dipped his head.
I will not cry again. I repeated my mantra again in my head, the phrase on constant repeat. Sometimes it helped, others… less so.
I put my palm flat on his cheek, running my eyes over every contour, every perfect imperfection, and tilted his head slightly so my eyes could hold his coffee-brown ones.
“When I come back.”
My bags were packed and waiting by the front door. My outfit for tomorrow was laid out neatly on the bench at the foot of the bed. I was all done. Now, all that was left was the time we had between this moment and the one that would take me to the airport.
Jihoon had gone out to pick up our final dinner. Of course, I’d asked for fried chicken and beer. I could have anything I wanted, he’d promised. But this was what I’d wanted.
And when he walked back in that door, brown bags under his arms, he found me standing in the hallway, wearing my storm-cloud dress.
“One last time?” I said, holding a grin onto my face with determination and a promise to myself.
So, one last time, we sat on the floor in front of the TV, eating chicken and drinking beer. Me in a dress that looked like a cloud heavy with rain, and feeling like a storm headed for shore.
The End.
For now.
Epilogue
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking and on behalf of myself and the crew, I’d like to welcome you aboard this flight to London Heathrow.
“We’ll be departing shortly, so please ensure your seatbelt is fastened, your seatback is upright, and your tray table is stowed.
“The flight time today is approximately eleven hours and forty-five minutes, and we’re expecting relatively smooth conditions for most of the journey.
“We do ask that you remain seated as much as possible and observe all onboard health protocols during the flight.
“We know travel might look a little different right now, but we thank you for flying with us, and we hope to make your journey a comfortable one.”
The speaker clicked off, leaving only the hush of quiet voices and the distant crackle of plastic packaging. I’d expected the plane to be crammed – Friday flights always were – but today it seemed barely half full. Maybe that was just due to how every other seat had been left empty so as to separate groups not travelling together. They were calling it ‘social distancing’. I wondered how it could be social, if it was distanced.
Safety guidelines had been papered up at regular intervals along the plane’s interior, detailing proper hand-washing technique, and using a tissue to cough into. It would have been comical, if the backdrop hadn’t been a crowd of people all wearing surgical masks. Instead, the effect was dystopian, and not a little bit frightening.
I’d had to fight off the sense of déjà vu as I followed the attendant down the aisle, passing the closed compartments. Before, most people had kept them open while we’d been on the ground. People had been happily chatting in between, calling over other attendants. It'd had an almost festival- like vibe. Now, all the compartments were closed up, and the only other attendants in view bustled up and down the aisle, wearing masks and gloves. It was more like a hospital ward.
