Pilots often had extremely early
mornings, sometimes starting as early as 4:30
a.m. He raised an eyebrow and put his arm
around my waist, preventing me from leaving.
“It’s the only time I’ll see you tomorrow. We’re
not on the same flights,” he said, his voice
dropping to a whisper. “Not until you agree.” I
glanced at the waiting driver and pinched his
arm. “Fine,” I conceded. I got out and
watched the taxi drive away. Standing there, I
felt a strange sense of disorientation. Just six
months after escaping a suffocating
marriage, I was falling into a new relationship.
Who was this auv? How had he so effortlessly
Г
charmed me onto his ship? A car horn
beeped. I turned to see a black sedan parked
under a tree. Mark? He stepped out of the
car. He walked towards me, silent, his eyes
searching mine. They were different now,
softer, less guarded. “Something I can do for
you?” I asked. He glanced up at the building.
“Can I come up? Just for a bit?” I hesitated.
“Whatever it is, you can say it here.” He
almost smiled, a wry expression. “You’ve
changed. You used to have so much to say to
me, but you always held back. Now… your
eyes are empty, like there’s nothing left to
say.”
” “We’re divorced, Mark,” I reminded him,
looking down. We were nothing now. “There’s
a coffee shop down the street. Can we talk
there?” I looked at the tree, its leaves turning
yellow and falling to the ground. I shook my
head. “I need to go up. I have work
tomorrow.” I shoved my hands into my
Г
pockets. He didn’t reply. I turned and walked
toward the entrance. “Sarah,” he called after
me, “I regret everything.” His words, spoken
into the cold night, were like a sudden crack
of lightning. The air stilled. “I realize now how
much you loved me,” he continued, “and I
threw it away. I resented my grandfather,
thought he was being controlling, forcing a
stranger on me.” “I couldn’t accept you. I
couldn’t understand why you cared so much
when we barely knew each other. I thought
you were after my money, my family’s
status.” “Then, after you left, I found this pen. I remembered. We met seven years ago. I
helped you when those guys were bothering
you.” I turned back. He held the pen I had
given him that day. High school. I had been
walking home when a group of guys cornered
me, pulling my hair, grabbing my clothes. I
was terrified. They pulled out a knife and tried
to force me into an alley. He had appeared
then, a lone figure against five or six of them.
“What are you doing?” he’d demanded.
They’d shoved him. “Mind your own business,
kid.” He’d punched the guy who shoved him,
then looked at me. “Run!” he yelled. They
attacked him. He was badly beaten, his head
bleeding, but he fought back until voices from
the street scared the thugs away. I’d rushed
to him with tissues, dabbing at the blood on
his forehead. “Are you okay? I’ll take you to a
hospital.” He’d answered his ringing phone.
“You guys here? I’m coming now.” He hung
up and gathered his scattered books. “I’m
fine. You go home. I gotta go.” “Can I get
your number? I want to repay you for the
medical bills,” I’d called after him. I only had
a few dollars in my pocket. “Don’t worry
about it. Just a scratch,” he said, without
turning back. He hadn’t really looked at me
<
that day, but I never forgot his face. I’d
picked up his pen and chased after him, but
he was already in a taxi. That act of kindness
had been a bright spot in my otherwise
stressful high school years. Years later, fate
brought us together again, and I became his
wife. Our grandfathers reintroduced us, but
he didn’t recognize me. He was distant during
dinner. I could tell he wasn’t happy about the
arranged marriage. I was about to tell my
grandfather I wanted to call it off when he
suddenly agreed to the marriage, albeit a
small, simple one. Now I realized he must
have agreed to some condition from his
grandfather. I had naively thought we would
grow close after the wedding. But his
coldness was impenetrable. Our marriage was
an icy wasteland, devoid of real conversation.
“Mark, it’s over. We both need to move on,” I
said. He stepped closer, his tall frame
く
looming over me, and took my hand. “But I…
I finally realized that my life is empty without
you. Sarah, let me pursue you. Give me another chance.” My heart pounded, but I
shook my head. “No, Mark. You have no idea
how much it hurt to see you with those
women on my flights, month after month. And
I had to pretend everything was fine, because it was my job.” “I’ve been through a lot in my life, but nothing compared to the pain you
caused me.” He looked down, ashamed.
“After we signed the papers,” he admitted, “I
felt a brief sense of relief, then… emptiness.
Ignoring you for those two years… it
backfired. You became a part of me without me even realizing it.” I pulled my hand away
and stepped back, looking up at the beautiful,
starlit sky. It was freezing, though. No one
would willingly stand out in this cold to
admire the stars. “Why now, Mark? Why
admire the stars. “Why now, Mark? Why
didn’t you talk to me, just once, in those two
years? You knew I was hurting. You watched
me suffer and did nothing.” “I can’t go back,”
I whispered. He gently touched my forehead,
his voice low and husky in the cold night.
“You don’t have to go back. This time, I’ll
come to you.” My phone buzzed. I pulled it
out. “Sarah, you asleep? Sleep tight. Good
night.” It was Chris. Mark withdrew his hand. I
put my phone away. “Go home, Mark,” I said.
“I really need to go inside.” He nodded. We
turned to walk away. Suddenly, he turned
back. “Sarah,” he called, “Where are you
flying tomorrow?”
(The End)
