Page 82 of Under Southern Stars
“Sleep,taku ipo,” Jack murmurs, his voice a warm rumble against my ear. “You’ve earned it.”
As I drift off, nestled against his shoulder, a fleeting thought surfaces—how many points did a paramedic really need to accumulate for premium seats?—before dissolving into the soft edges of sleep. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except this moment, this man, this adventure we are on together.
New Zealand waits on the horizon, with all its mysteries and beauty.
And so does Jack’s family.
But for now, in the liminal space between worlds, there is just us.
And that is more than enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
JACK
“Welcome home, Mr. McKenzie.”
The immigration officer’s cheerful greeting sends a small ripple of anxiety through me as I glance quickly at Sophia, but she is busy helping Madison gather her things, oblivious to the subtle deference in the man’s tone. He’d barely glanced at my passport before stamping it.
“Thanks, mate. Good to be back.” I keep my voice casual, accepting the passport with a nod.
We’d landed in Auckland twenty minutes ago, the familiar sight of the Manukau Harbour spreading beneath us as we descended. The relief of being back on New Zealand soil is immediate and visceral—the quality of the light, the accents around me, even the particular scent of the airport terminal.Home.
But now, standing in the immigration hall with Sophia and Madison beside me, that sense of homecoming is tangled with a knot of anxiety. The familiar had suddenly become fraught with potential landmines. Every interaction could betray me.
Sophia moves to the officer next, Madison bouncing impatiently behind her. The teenager had practically floated off the plane, raving about her Business Premier experience to anyone who would listen. The flight attendants had thoroughlyspoiled her, and she’d slept for a solid eight hours in her pod. She looks refreshed and eager, while most of our fellow passengers shuffle through immigration with the glazed expressions of the truly jet-lagged.
Sophia, though…Sophia is different. There is a new softness to her expression, a private smile that surfaced whenever our eyes met. The memory of our mid-flight adventure hangs between us like a delicious secret, creating a bubble of intimacy even in this crowded immigration hall. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wears the same clothes she’d boarded in, yet somehow she looks more beautiful than ever.
“First time in New Zealand?” the officer asks her.
“Yes,” Sophia answers, handing over her and Madison’s passports.
“Welcome to Aotearoa. Purpose of your visit?”
“Vacation,” she says, with a glance toward me. “Visiting…friends.”
The officer nods stamping their passports efficiently. “Enjoy your stay.”
“Oh my God, the accents,” Madison whispers loudly as we move away from the booth. “They’re even better than yours, Jack.”
I laugh. “Cheeky. That’s because mine’s gone a bit American, hasn’t it? Two weeks here and I’ll be sounding properly Kiwi again.”
“Wow, it’s still Sunday here too?” Madison asks, checking her phone as we head toward baggage claim.
“Actually, love, because we crossed the International Date Line, we skipped Sunday,” I correct gently. “It’s Monday morning here.”
Madison’s eyes widen. “Wait, so we, like…lost a day?”
“Not lost,” Sophia says. “Just…condensed. We’ll get it back on the return flight.”
“That’s so weird,” Madison marvels. “We literally flew to tomorrow. We’re in the future!”
“And yet the future looks suspiciously like an airport,” I tease, spotting our bags on the carousel. “Here, let me grab those.”
After collecting our luggage and clearing customs (where Madison had to be reassured that yes, her sneakers were clean enough to bring into the country), we head toward the exit.
“I’ve arranged a car service,” I say casually, steering them toward the arrivals hall. “Easier than messing about with taxis when you’re jet-lagged.”
