The suitcase on the bench lay open, half-packed and disorganized—so unlike her. Usually, Katherine folded her clothes with precision, zipped her pouches in color-coded order, and checked each item off her list with a pen that matched her carry-on.
But not this morning.
This morning, she was moving sluggishly. Yawning. Sleep-deprived. Wearing her silk robe half-open over a rumpled T-shirt she’d thrown on after a restless night. Her hair was pulled into a lazy bun, strands slipping out here and there, and her slippers made soft scuffing sounds on the carpet as she walked between the suitcase and the bathroom.
She picked up a blouse, stared at it blankly, then tossed it in without folding. She didn’t even care if it wrinkled.
"I can’t believe I just stood there," Katherine muttered to herself, hands on her hips. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy, rimd with fatigue, and she sighed at herself. "I should’ve walked away the mont he did that. But nooo... I stayed there."
Leonard Ford had dropped a ticking bomb in her lap yesterday.
His apology. His hopeful, heavy gaze. The soft touch on her hair like he still had a right to lay hands on her.
She had stepped back imdiately after that, of course. Kept a distance between them just wide enough to make it impossible for him to reach her again. She’d moved every ti he tried to close the space, her body language stiff with polite revulsion, but still... she had listened.
Listened to his words. His voice.
"Apologies," she said aloud, mimicking him with an exaggerated eye roll. "Wants to be in the twins’ life. He’ll ’earn his place back.’ What does that even an, Leonard?" She shook her head at herself, zipping the suitcase with a sharp tug. "Ambiguous garbage. Sa as always."
Last night, she’d called Felix, still shaken.
She had expected judgnt, maybe a quiet sense of "I told you so." But as usual, Felix had only listened. Patiently. Thoughtfully. He hadn’t pushed her to explain more than she wanted. He hadn’t rushed to fix it. Just listened.
It had helped. At least enough to get a few solid hours of sleep.
Now, dragging her suitcase behind her and checking out of the hotel with a tight smile and a nod, Katherine found herself oddly relieved to be going ho.
The cab ride to the airport was quiet. She leaned against the window, watching the streets blur past as her fingers absently fiddled with the strap of her handbag.
She didn’t speak much to the driver. Only murmured a thank you as she paid and stepped out into the buzz of the airport.
Her gate was already open when she arrived, and boarding had begun.
Katherine glanced down at her ticket again. Business class.
She sighed. She hadn’t even booked this. Felix had done it for her, insisting she deserved comfort after the stress of the convention. "Let pamper you a little," he’d said. "Please, Kath."
And here she was, indulging his kindness—though the word "comfort" felt like a cruel joke after the past twenty-four hours.
Once on the plane, she made her way down the aisle toward her seat. 3B. Aisle seat. Great. Easy access to walk away from anyone chatty or irritating.
She reached the row and paused.
Soone was already seated beside the window, their face turned away as they placed their coat in the overhead compartnt.
Then the person turned.
Her heart stopped.
"...Leonard?"
He looked up, almost sheepish, and his smile was casual—but not surprised.
"Hi, Katherine."
She stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What are you doing here?" she asked sharply, her voice too loud, drawing a glance from the flight attendant standing nearby.
Leonard gave a faint shrug, still smiling. "Sa as you. Going ho."
Katherine opened her mouth, then shut it again. Her chest tightened with frustration, anxiety, rage—and sothing she didn’t want to na.
She looked at the seat again. Then down the aisle. Then at her ticket.
Leonard was already buckled in, his posture relaxed, legs crossed like he belonged there.
Katherine bit her lip, her breath shallow.
No. Nope. No way.
She was seconds away from turning on her heel, marching down the aisle, and requesting to be placed in economy. She’d beg if she had to. She didn’t care if she had to sit next to a crying baby. She didn’t care if she lost the champagne and the legroom.
Hell, she belonged in economy anyway, if not for Felix’s generosity.
Leonard watched her quietly, sensing the tension. "I swear," he said gently, "this wasn’t planned. It’s just... coincidence."
Katherine said nothing. Her fingers tightened around her ticket until it crumpled.
She reached out and pressed the stewardess call button above the seat. A soft chi sounded.
Monts later, a flight attendant approached with a warm smile. "Yes, ma’am? Is there anything I can help you with?"
Katherine opened her mouth. The words nearly spilled out.
Yes, please switch . I’ll take economy. I’ll stand if I have to. Just get away from this man.
But sothing stopped her.
Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was Felix’s voice in her mory, calm and supportive. Maybe it was the ghost of all the tis Leonard had made her feel like she was overreacting, too emotional, not strong enough.
Not today.
She smiled politely at the stewardess. "Could I have a drink, please? Just water for now."
"Of course."
The attendant left.
Katherine took her seat with rigid grace, placing her handbag beneath the seat in front of her. She crossed her legs and clasped her hands neatly in her lap.
I can handle this, she told herself. He doesn’t get to ruin this flight. He doesn’t get to make squirm. Not anymore.
She didn’t look at him.
Next to her, Leonard let out a soft exhale. "Thank God. I thought for a second you were about to switch seats."
She still didn’t look at him.
And for the first ti in a long while, her silence said more than words ever could.
She pressed her head against the seat, closed her eyes, and thought to herself, This is going to be a long ride.
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