He doesn’t flinch. If anything, his expression softens, just a fraction, like something has settled into place instead of breaking.
“Good,” he says after a moment.
I blink. “Good?”
A corner of his mouth lifts. Not a smile exactly. More like an acknowledgment. “People don’t run from things often enough.”
We sit there for a few seconds, the hum of the plane filling the space, and I wait for the follow-up questions.Why? From who? Are you okay?The interrogations that always come dressed as concern.
They don’t. He just turns his book face-down on his lap, a quiet signal that he’s choosing this conversation, and asks, “Are you safe now?”
The simplicity of it almost breaks me. I don’t know how to answer, not fully. Safe is a big word. It’s a promise people like Marco used to make right before taking it away. It’s a concept that feels theoretical more often than not.
But I’m on a plane. He’s not here. The door is locked behind me in a way that matters.
“I will be,” I say carefully.
He nods once, like that answer makes sense to him.
“And you?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Are you… going home?”
He exhales softly through his nose, gaze drifting to the aisle, to the darkened cabin beyond it. When he looks back at me, there’s something unguarded there. Tired. Honest in a way that doesn’t ask for anything.
“I don’t know where that is anymore.”
I nod. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
He glances at me, like he hadn’t expected agreement. “Does it?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Sometimes places don’t change. You just… stop fitting in them.”
He’s quiet for a beat. Then, “Or they keep expecting a version of you that doesn’t exist anymore.”
“Or never really did,” I add.
That earns a look. Not one of surprise. Recognition.
We don’t exchange names. Neither of us offers. It feels intentional without ever being stated.
“So,” he says after a moment, “what do you do?”
“I plan events,” I reply. “Logistics. Schedules. Making sure everything runs the way it’s supposed to.”
“Sounds stressful.”
“It can be.” A pause. “But I like knowing how things fit together.”
He nods, like that answer tells him more than I meant it to.
“And you?”
“I work with… people,” he says.
I wait.
“Negotiations. Fixing problems.”
“What kind of problems?”
