Chapter 3
Lisa
The farther the plane carries me from California, the easier it is to breathe.
I’ve only been on the flight for two hours, and I've already cried three times. The man sitting next to me keeps giving me sympathetic looks, and I keep pretending not to notice.
“Chicago is supposed to be lovely this time of year,” the man says softly. He keeps looking at the screen in front of him, pressing buttons. He must be around seventy years old and looks kind.
“It is,” I tell him softly. “I used to live there. I’m moving back, actually,” I tell the man, though I don’t even know why I am telling him.
“Good for you,” the man says as he turns toward me and gives me a kind smile.
“Are you taking a trip?” I ask him while I return the smile.
“I am visiting my son. He moved to Chicago a couple of years ago. I am thinking of moving closer to him, but I haven’t told him yet,” the man explains, and something in me warms.
“I’m sure he will be thrilled when you tell him,” I smile before the man looks at the screen in front of him again.
“Whatever is making you sad right now,” the man begins without looking at me, “it will get better,” he goes on.
“I think so too,” I smile.
We don’t say much for the rest of the flight, but my heart feels like it’s already starting to heal. The farther away I get from James, the more room I have to become myself again.
I don’t cry the rest of the flight, and by the time the plane lands, my eyes don’t even feel puffy anymore.
As soon as the seatbelt lights go off, I send a quick text to Anna to let her know I arrived in Chicago.
“Thanks for being my neighbor,” the man says as he holds out his hand.
“Thank you for the kind words,” I tell him as I shake his hand. He walks away while I gather my things, and I wonder what his life is like. And if he’ll end up moving to Chicago as well.
When I make my way down to the luggage area, I see a man waiting there with a sign reading "Ms. Miller.” Zane told me he had to make it to practice and that he would send someone to pick me up. He made sure I knew it was his regular driver and that he wouldn’t just send ‘any’ guy.
“Hi, I’m Lisa,” I tell the man with the sign as I hold out my hand.
“Josh,” he says with a smile. “Is this all?” he asks as he looks at my luggage, and I shake my head.
“I am waiting for two big suitcases,” I tell him as I look at the conveyor belt. It is slowly filling up with more and more suitcases, and I get closer to looking for mine.
“Let me know which one’s yours,” Josh says as he follows me to the belt.
“That one!” I say after about a minute. “The one with the purple patch.”
“On it,” Josh confirms.
“Oh, and that one as well. The one with the ice skating sticker on it,” I say as my second suitcase makes its way down the belt.
Josh swings the first suitcase off the belt with ease. Like he does this every day. When the second suitcase reaches him, his swing is smaller, and I can tell the weight surprises him.
“I have a lot of shoes. Sorry,” I apologize, and Josh chuckles.
“No worries,” he replies as he starts walking with the two suitcases dragging behind me.
“I can take one,” I suggest, since I only have my backpack right now, but Josh shakes his head.
“All good. We’re almost at the car anyway,” he says while he nods toward a row of vehicles.
