Page 89 of Aviatrix

“Watch your back out there, Captain,” he says.

I take a sobering breath. “I will.”

Eli leads the way to the car. I pretend not to notice him swiping at his cheeks. I want to reach for him, to hold his hand, to rub his back.

But I know Eli. He needs a minute to feel this. These are his people. If he never sees them again, he deserves the space to say goodbye on his terms.

I slide into the passenger seat as sunlight breaks through the clouds and bathes the little white farmhouse in gold.

I swallow my cry as I crank down the window and throw my arm up in a wave.

Eli turns the ignition and honks twice.

Then, we’re driving away.

I finally glance over at him.

“I’m fine,” Eli says, eyes straight ahead.

I want to say something, but I’m afraid if I speak, the tears will fall, and we don’t have time for tears. We have to figure out how to get to Colorado undetected.

“Should we have flown at night?” I ask.

He shakes his head, refusing to meet my gaze. “Until you’re comfortable with VAL, we fly during the day.”

I want to argue that I am comfortable with her. But trying to perform Stealth Mode with Eli? Better to fly in daylight.

Low fog drapes the green rows of farmland as his fingers tighten on the steering wheel. It brings back a flood of feelings—our kiss yesterday in the barn, his hands in my hair, the warmth of his skin beneath my palms.

I didn’t want the moment to end.

But it did.

We haven’t talked about it. Haven’t acknowledged it. It clings to us, soft and persistent, like the morning mist rolling off the hills.

A week ago, I was engaged—living with Lark and dreaming up a future that’ll never happen.

But Eli…

He’s always been in the back of my mind. A what-if. A maybe. A giant, aching question mark.

And now that he’s right here—so close I can reach out and touch him—I don’t know what he is anymore.

What do I want him to be?

The rest of the drive to the airfield is quiet. Just the hum of tires on asphalt and the occasional train horn blaring in the distance.

I breathe in the humid air, thick with the scent of wet earth and freshly mowed grass. It smells like a place untouched by the world’s problems. A place time forgot. Part of me wishes I could stay here, tucked away in this rural sliver of peace. The other part wishes I could go back to whatever life I had before Langdon was destroyed.

But I can’t even remember what that life looked like. Too much has happened.

And if nothing had happened? I’d still be the oblivious woman with a cheating fiancé.

I exhale.

“How are you doing?” Eli asks.

“I’m okay,” I say, even though I’m not sure I mean it. “Just trying to process everything that’s happened since…”