I was able to schedule a flight for 8:05 P.M. Looks like I’ll be landing at 9:12 your time.
April:
I’ll meet you at arrivals.
My stomach dips a little as I scroll out of the thread and into my messages.
There’s another text from April directly to me.
April:
Hey May, give me a call when you get a chance.
I check the time.
8:45.
She’s probably already driving to the airport.
I tap her name and lift the phone to my ear. She answers after the first ring.
“Hey,” she says, voice tight in a way that immediately makes me straighten.
“What’s going on?” I ask, stepping toward the counter.
There’s a small pause. I can hear traffic through her speakers.
“June’s not doing well,” she says. “I don’t know everything yet, but… apparently she got photographed with that soccer player she’s been seeing.”
“Moretti?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah.” April exhales. “The internet’s being awful. Comments everywhere. Guys saying horrible things about her. About her body. Saying someone like him would never be interested in someone like her.”
My grip tightens around the phone.
“That’s… disgusting,” I mutter.
“I know,” April says. “She’s taking it harder than she’s letting on. Catalina told her to take some time off, and I convinced her to come stay with me for a bit.”
I lean against the counter, thinking.
“I can’t really leave work right now,” I say slowly. “I’m still so new here.” My eyes drift toward the window without really seeing anything. “But you guys could come here instead—both of you. Stay with me for a while. It might be good for her… different scenery. Quiet.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“That’s actually a really good idea,” April says. I can hear the relief slipping into her voice. “Let me talk to her when I pick her up, and make some arrangements with Max.”
“Yeah. Just let me know what you decide,” I say. “And tell her she can stay as long as she needs to.”
“I will.” The sound of her blinker clicks softly through the line. “I’m almost at the airport.”
She pauses, then her tone shifts slightly. “How was your day?”
I smile.
“It was… really nice,” I admit. “We spent the afternoon making jam and bread. It was just… good.”
“I like this version of you,” she says softly. “You sound happy.”
