It hung between them, delicate and uncertain.
He walked over and reached for the suitcase. “Let’s go. You’ll be late.”
The ride to the airport was quieter than usual. Not tense just... cautious. She looked out the window, sunlight flickering over her features, and Jake felt something ache deep in his chest. He didn’t know if it was regret or fear.
The car rolled to a smooth stop at the curbside departure lane. People bustled past with rolling suitcases, kids dragging backpacks, couples exchanging kisses and last-minute goodbyes. Jake put the car in park and stepped out, grabbing Kylee’s suitcase from the back.
She followed, adjusting her purse strap over her shoulder, heart pounding with a strange blend of nerves and anticipation. It wasn’t just the trip. It was space. The shift. The feeling that, for the first time in a long time, she was stepping into something for herself.
Jake set the suitcase upright beside her and paused, watching her with a mix of hesitation and something else, maybe longing, maybe guilt. Maybe both.
“I meant what I said,” he told her, keeping his voice low so only she could hear. “Rachel’s off all week. I’ll be home with the kids. I want you to go and actually enjoy this.”
Kylee nodded, blinking against the glare of the glass above the terminal. “Okay.”
“I know I’ve given you every reason not to trust me lately,” he added, “but I’m trying. I really am.”
Her eyes met his. Something in her expression softened, just barely. “I know.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the air between them still heavy but no longer sharp. Jake stepped forward, instinctively brushing his hand down her arm.
“Have fun,” he said. “Let yourself breathe a little.”
“I plan to,” she said, stepping back with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
He watched as she turned and headed toward the sliding glass doors. She didn’t look back.
Kylee stepped onto the plane expecting cramped rows and a middle seat near the bathroom. But as the flight attendant checked her ticket and gestured toward the front of the plane, she blinked in surprise.
"Welcome, Mrs. Waterman," the attendant smiled. "Right this way seat 2A."
First class?
Her shoes slid softly against the carpeted aisle as she approached the oversized leather seat. It looked more like a luxury lounge chair than something belonging on a plane. She hesitated a moment, glancing down at the ticket again as if to double-check. But no it was hers.
She slid into the seat, fingertips grazing the buttery leather as she exhaled slowly. A flight attendant appeared moments later offering her a glass of champagne. Kylee accepted it with a grateful nod, still a little stunned. The bubbly fizzed gently as she raised the flute to her lips, the cool sweetness settling something inside her.
Her phone buzzed once it was Jake.
“ Have a safe flight, Ky.”
She read it, stared at it, and then placed her phone in airplane mode without answering.
As the plane began to lift off, Kylee let her head rest back against the plush seat, letting the hum of the engine and the luxury of the moment wash over her.
The warm, humid air of New Orleans wrapped around Kylee the second she stepped out of the terminal. The smell of airport fuel mixed with beignets from a nearby café cart, and just like that, she was home or at least somewhere that felt like it.
And there, standing just beyond the security ropes, was Kelly grinning like a fool and holding up a giant white poster board that read in thick purple letters:
"WELCOME HOME FROM PRISON, KYLEE!"
Underneath, she'd doodled terrible stick figures of Kylee in orange scrubs and handcuffs, complete with a cartoon frown.
Kylee burst out laughing, drawing a few curious glances from other travelers. “Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” she said, dragging her suitcase behind her as she walked into Kelly’s open arms.
“I missed your face,” Kelly said, squeezing her tight.
“I missed yours more,” Kylee murmured into her shoulder, inhaling the familiar mix of vanilla body spray and attitude.
