The flight unfolds

A few hours into the flight, I woke still tucked in Vince’s arms. He was sound asleep, head tilted slightly toward me, mouth parted as loud snores escaped him. I stifled a laugh, gently easing out from under his arm. He mumbled something in his sleep — it sounded like my name — then shifted, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

“Still snoring like a freight train,” I whispered with a grin, shaking my head.

The cabin lights were dim, the quiet hum of the engines filling the space. I grabbed my tote bag from the seat in front of me, rummaging quietly until I found my toothbrush and toothpaste. With both in hand, I padded down the narrow aisle toward the coaches’ bathroom — larger than the one for the players, built to accommodate a shower, with enough space to actually move without bumping an elbow on every wall.

Inside, I flicked on the soft overhead light and looked at my reflection. My face was a little pale, eyes tired but not as hollow as they once were. Six weeks ago, when I’d first arrived in New Zealand, the reflection staring back at me had been someone lost, restless, barely holding herself together. Now, I didn’t look like that woman anymore. I looked frail and had lost a ton of weight… thanks to Patrick. Not to disrespect the dead, but no respect to Patrick.

I brushed my teeth slowly, the familiar rhythm helping me wake up. When I was done, I rinsed my mouth and splashed cool water on my face before shutting off the tap.

As I stepped back into the quiet cabin, Emily looked up from where she was organizing supplies in the galley. She smiled warmly.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

I shook my head, returning the smile. “I can’t sleep long on planes. My body doesn’t know what time it is anymore.”

“That makes two of us,” she chuckled softly. “I work part-time as a flight attendant for a commercial airline when I’m not needed with the All Blacks. I swear, I haven’t slept through a long-haul flight in five years.”

That earned a laugh from me. “That explains why you look more awake than the rest of us.”

“Don’t let the makeup fool you,” she teased. “It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

“Any chance I can grab a cup of coffee?” I asked. “Instant’s fine.”

Emily shook her head immediately, mock offense in her voice. “Instant? Not on my watch. You deserve the good stuff — freshly brewed.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “You’re spoiling me.”

“After all the negative shit you’ve had in New Zealand, I’d call it necessary.” She moved with practiced ease, filling the small French press with hot water and grounds, the scent of roasted beans slowly filling the galley. “Light and sweet, right?”

I smiled. “You remember.”

“Of course I do.” She handed me the steaming mug a few minutes later, the aroma wrapping around me like comfort itself. “There you go — caffeine therapy, coach’s edition.”

I took a slow sip, savoring the warmth and the perfect balance of cream and sugar. “That’s… exactly what I needed. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said softly, leaning against the counter. “You doing all right? Charle briefly told me about Patrick.”

I hesitated for a beat, watching the soft steam curl above the cup. “Getting there. It’s strange, though. Leaving like that. Everything I built over those six weeks—it feels like a lifetime.”

Emily nodded. “I get that. But you left a mark, you know? People don’t forget that kind of impact.”

Her words sank in quietly. I looked out the small porthole window near the galley, where streaks of pale pink and amber were beginning to color the edge of the clouds. “It’s beautiful,” I murmured. “A reminder that endings aren’t always dark.”

Emily followed my gaze, smiling faintly. “That’s a good way to see it.”

We stood in silence for a few moments, the sky brightening by degrees. I finished my coffee and handed her the empty mug. “Thanks again, Emily.”

“Anytime. You want another cup?”

“Sure, that’d be great,” I said.

She got to working and made my second cup of coffee.

“Now go wake your co-pilot before he starts drooling in his sleep.”

I laughed under my breath. “He already started.”

Walking back down the aisle, I found Vince still in the same position, mouth open slightly, blissfully unaware of anything. I brushed a hand through his hair and whispered, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

He stirred, eyes blinking open. “Mmm… coffee?”

I grinned. “This one’s mine. You know that I don’t share my coffee. There’s more up in the galley but you have to fight Emily for the rest.”

He yawned, smiling drowsily. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Always,” I teased, settling back into my seat beside him. “Go brush your teeth then get your coffee, darling.”

“I’m darling now, huh?” he teased me. “I’ve missed that.”

“Don’t get used to it, old man,” I laughed.

Vince ruffled through his carry-on bag to get his toothpaste and toothbrush then headed to brush his teeth. On his way out of the bathroom, he dropped his things off in his bag, then went to Emily in the galley. They laughed and joked. Emily rested her hand on Vince’s chest after he said something. I couldn’t see his face, but his ears turned red, and Emily looked a little embarrassed as she removed her hand and glanced at me briefly. Vince walked back to me.

“What was that with Emily?” I asked innocently. “Did you turn her down?”

“She was flirting with me,” he sighed. “I told her that I was hung up on someone else… she knew it was you.”

“Dude, she’s an incredible woman. Just because we’re still hung up on others doesn’t mean we can’t go out for dinner or coffee or whatever with other people, Vince,” I said as I got up. “I called you to get me for a reason — because I trusted you to do so. I didn’t ask you to be an asshole to a sweet woman who’s just trying to find company whenever she flies to our closest airport.”

I headed back to the galley to find Emily crying. I didn’t have any tissues on me, but grabbed a napkin from the dispenser near her head. “He can be rather abrupt,” I said. “I’m sorry he was such an ass.”

“He was rather polite,” Emily said softly.

“That is a bit of a surprise as he can be rather abrasive,” I replied, giving her a small smile. “I gave him shit. In a few minutes, he’ll be crawling back here to apologize.”

“Thanks, Deppgrl. You’re a real woman’s woman,” she said. “How did you two meet?”

“Can you handle a weird kinda but not kinda not complicated awkward story?” I asked with a grin.

“Sure,” she said, chuckling. “I live for these stories. It’s part of why I work commercial when not needed for the team.”

“Before I start, I want to state that nothing happened until after I turned of legal age,” I began. “I was starting high school and, of course, not being familiar with the layout of the school… I got lost. I’m rather directionally impaired — to the point where if you tell me to head north, I’ll go south by southeast. Anyway, I was heading to the music department wing but went down the wrong hallway. I see this attractive teacher and, distracted by his looks and talking to my new classmate on the way to class, I tripped and started to fall — but Vince caught me before I fully hit the floor. I thanked him, and my classmate and I found the actual classroom we were supposed to be in. For three of my four years of high school, I was in the choir, and my senior year I was part of the marching band — as color guard.”

“What happened after you graduated?” she asked.

“Well, nothing much for about two or three years,” I said. “A friend I graduated with invited me to a football game — not what you call football; we call that soccer. This game’s a big deal because it’s the end of the season, the rivalry match between our sister school and our own. The winner gets bragging rights until next year. Of course, Vince was there — still the band director. As I was looking for my friend, Vince’s and my eyes locked. Before either one of us could greet the other, my friend showed up. We watched the game and left, promising to go again the next year.”

“What happened next?”

“The following year, a different friend of mine and I ended up going to that same game — my previous friend had to work last minute,” I said. “As my friend and I were talking while waiting for the game to start, Vince texted me, asking me to meet him during halftime. Long story short, I did — and he said he tracked down my older brother to get my number. Then he asked if I wanted to head to his house after the game. I said sure — and that I knew he lived near me.”

“Oh?”

“My bus went through his development, and I saw him hop in his car,” I continued. “That night started a very long on-and-off relationship. He wanted to marry — and I did and didn’t, but he didn’t know why until my ex-husband, Xavier, walked back into my life. Even after the divorce, I still have no desire to marry. After knowing Vince for twenty-eight years and being involved with him for about fifteen, he’s a far better friend for me than a partner.”

“Oh,” she said dejectedly.

“I’m not saying he’s a bad partner,” I added quickly. “Vince is a generous man — with his time, patience, gift-giving, his love, and in the bedroom. He’s also full of kindness. Any woman he dates will be spoiled.”

“Can you go put in a good word for me?” she said, half-joking.

“I did — in not so many words,” I said with a small smirk. “Oh, look who’s coming this way. I’ll be back in a bit for the tea.”

She laughed as I headed back to my seat. I grabbed a book from my tote bag and began to read. As I heard Vince’s and Emily’s voices and laughter behind me, I fell asleep.

Two hours later, I woke up and looked outside. The sun had fully risen now, streaking the clouds with gold. Vince leaned his head lightly against mine, drifting back toward sleep as I watched the sky stretch endlessly ahead. I woke him immediately.

“How did it go?” I asked.

“Great,” he said. “Once I get you home and situated, Emily and I are going to spend time together. Probably dinner.”

“I want to hear about everything afterwards — even if it’s the morning,” I said as I got up.

I walked back to the galley. Emily was cleaning up, but when she saw me, she set everything down and smiled.

“Hey,” she said, voice softer now. “So… we’re having dinner.”

“I heard,” I replied with a grin.

Her smile faltered a little. “Are you really okay with that?”

Instead of answering right away, I stepped closer. “Yeah, I am. But I’ll be honest — I’m a little jealous.”

She blinked, uncertain. “Jealous?”

“Not in a possessive way,” I said. “Vince has been a part of my life for almost three decades. We’ve been through hell, and through all of it, he stayed. So yeah — it’s strange to see that shifting toward someone else. But that’s not bitterness. It’s nostalgia. I want him happy, Emily. Truly. He deserves that. He deserves someone who looks at him the way he probably looks at you when you’re not paying attention.”

She smiled shyly, eyes shimmering a little. “He does look at me like that.”

“Good,” I said softly. “That’s what I want. He’s spent so much of his life taking care of me. It’s time someone took care of him.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she stepped forward and hugged me — tight, heartfelt.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For being so cool about this.”

I laughed lightly. “Cool might be pushing it. But I’m trying. Life’s too short to hold on too tight.”

She pulled back, brushing her eyes. “You’re kind of incredible, you know?”

I smiled. “No. Just tired. But maybe tired helps you see things clearer.”

She chuckled, handing me a cup of tea. “Here — this one’s on me.”

I nodded in thanks, turning back down the aisle. Vince was asleep again, and I slipped back into my seat.

I pulled my book from my tote bag, flipped it open, and tried to read. But my eyes skimmed the same paragraph again and again. None of the words stuck. The jealousy wasn’t sharp — it was just there, lingering under my ribs. I wasn’t angry, only wistful.

I set the book down and stared out the window instead. The sunlight glowed across the clouds, endless and warm, while Vince shifted beside me, sighing softly in his sleep.

I sighed and reached for my phone, officially becoming every pilot’s worst nightmare. Unlocking it quietly, I scrolled to Mike’s name and sent him a message:

Hey, can you pick me up from the airport in a bit?

A minute later, he replied. Yeah, of course. What time, and where am I meeting you?

I typed back: Park by international flights and ask someone at the nearest ticket counter for “Maddox Mannox.”

A moment passed before his next message came through. What the hell is a Maddox Mannox?

I smiled faintly. Maddox is a contact of mine at the airport. I’ll text him and tell him you’re picking me up. He’ll validate your parking and bring you to the door leading to the tarmac where the plane will be.

Got it. What time?

Three to four hours, I sent back. You’ll see me on the tarmac.

Okay, he replied. Looking forward to seeing you, D.

I locked the phone and tucked it into the seat pocket, leaning my head back. Outside, the sun blazed bright across the horizon, and for the first time in a long while, I felt ready to be home.