Not Perfect but Worth it
1421 Words
The plane touched down with a soft thud, and as it rolled down the runway, Sandra’s heart fluttered. She stared out the window, watching as the vast city came into view—skyline stretching high, the early morning sun casting a golden hue over the buildings.
New York.
Her breath caught.
The announcement echoed: “Welcome to John F. Kennedy International Airport. Local time is 7:42 AM. Temperature outside is 12 degrees Celsius. Thank you for flying with us.”
As the seatbelt sign dinged off, passengers stirred around her, stretching and reaching for bags. Sandra sat still for a beat longer, heart pounding, fingers wrapped tight around the strap of her backpack.
“This is it,” she whispered.
She followed the stream of travelers off the plane and through the winding corridors of the airport. When the chill of New York's spring air hit her skin, she shivered—not from the cold, but from the feeling of a new beginning.
After immigration and baggage claim, she stepped through the sliding glass doors of the arrival hall, her suitcase trailing behind her.
A sea of strangers rushed by—but then, she spotted it.
A woman stood by the rail, holding a small white sign that read:
Sandra Alvarez – Juilliard School.
She was tall and graceful, dressed in a warm trench coat and scarf, with kind eyes and a bright, welcoming smile. When their eyes met, the woman raised her hand in a wave.
“Sandra?” she called gently.
Sandra nodded, approaching with hesitant steps.
“I’m Camille. I’m part of the Juilliard International Welcome Program. We’re so happy you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Sandra said, her voice soft but steady.
“You must be exhausted after the flight, but don’t worry—we’ll get you settled in. Your host family is excited to meet you, and we’ll stop for breakfast on the way if you’re hungry.”
Sandra blinked, relief and gratitude washing over her. The overwhelming buzz of the airport softened a little with that simple kindness.
As they walked out to the waiting car, the cool air nipped at her cheeks, and towering buildings loomed in the distance. It was all real now—the goodbye, the flight, the dream.
She looked up at the sky as they stepped outside.
“I made it,” she whispered again, and this time, it felt like the city was listening.
---
Sandra soon got settled in. She pulled out her phone to call Emma. She wanted to let them know she had arrived and was okay—despite the international roaming rates.
“Hello,” her voice rang out as soon as the call connected.
“Sis!” Emma exclaimed. “Come on, guys—Sis is calling!” he shouted. In no time, the others surrounded him, including their dad. He put the call on speaker.
“Hey, guys,” Sandra said. Immediately, her siblings tried speaking all at once, their voices overlapping with excitement, and her father just smiled contentedly.
“Guys, calm down! I just got settled in. Everywhere is nice—and New York City... it’s just so amazing, so different.”
They chatted for some time before Sandra ended the call. But there was one more call she was itching to make.
She video-called Andre.
“Hey, love,” he said the moment the screen lit up.
“Hey,” she replied, a wide smile spreading across her face.
They talked for a long time that evening. But because of the time difference, Sandra had to let Andre go to bed.
And from that moment on, that became their only means of communication. When life stressed Sandra, or when Andre felt like a part of him was missing, they called each other to rekindle the flame that now burned low.
But time came when distance began to take its toll. Their conversations grew shorter and less deep. Their love was becoming a mere flicker, trying to survive the winds of distance.
But that’s how true love is identified.
They realized what was happening—how they were slowly growing apart. But that didn’t lead to the end of their love story. They talked it out and made a conscious effort to stay connected. To let love lead.
Because they had a relationship mature enough to say:
“This is our problem, and this is how we'll fix it.”
The love was always there like a flame, but they let maturity and understanding fuel it to overcome the winds of distance.
---
Fast forward to four years later…
The plane touched down with a gentle hum, and the weight of the past settled back into Sandra’s chest. As the wheels rolled to a stop on the tarmac, she stared out of the window, her eyes catching the familiar skyline of her home country.
Her heart fluttered—torn between the excitement of being home and the knot of anxiety tightening with every breath.
This wasn’t just a visit—it was her return.
She walked through the airport, memories flooding back: her father’s warm embrace, Mitchell clinging to her, Emma's dramatic antics, and Andre's ever-safe arms. So much had changed.
Sandra had grown—not physically, but mentally. She walked briskly now, head held high, her eyes shining with confidence. No longer the insecure young girl—she was a mature woman who had control of her life.
She paused at the baggage claim, scanning the crowd.
Then she saw them.
Her father, slightly older but the same. Emma—taller. Daniel—growing into a man. Mitchell—no longer a toddler.
Their eyes met.
Time stood still.
Sandra stepped forward slowly, as though testing the ground. Her father’s breath caught as he smiled, eyes glistening.
“Dad,” she whispered.
He pulled her into a tight embrace.
“I missed you so much,” he said.
Sandra couldn’t speak. She just held on and let the tears fall.
Mitchell was next, crashing into her arms. Sandra rubbed her head gently.
Then came Daniel and Emma.
Emma hugged her tightly and whispered, “I missed you… even though this was the last thing I thought I’d say four years ago.”
Sandra smiled and patted him gently.
“Come here, Daniel,” she said.
Daniel let go of his restraint and hugged her hard. He was no longer a sickly boy, but a dazzling young man. Sandra held him, remembering the hospital… and Andre.
Andre.
Where was he?
A flicker of worry danced in her heart.
Her eyes dimmed as she looked around. Could he have forgotten? Was she no longer important?
Her family noticed her disappointment but exchanged silent glances.
“Let’s go,” her father said.
As they walked, little children began handing Sandra roses. “God bless you,” they said. One by one—young people, elderly couples—all handed her roses until she had ninety-nine.
Mitchell handed her the hundredth rose and a card.
“I’ll love you for a hundred years and beyond.”
As she read the note, rose petals exploded overhead, showering her in color.
And then—there he was.
Andre, dressed in a tuxedo, stepped forward.
“I could never miss your homecoming, love. I’m here. I thought long and hard these past four years about how to make this moment special. This was the best I could come up with. I’m sorry… but still, I want to ask: Will you marry me?”
He knelt on one knee.
Sandra’s eyes filled with tears. Surprise, joy, and something deeper shimmered in her gaze.
“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!”
Andre slid the ring on her finger. He rose and hugged her tightly. They didn’t want to let go. Then, gently, he kissed her—deeply, sealing the moment.
Afterwards, Sandra rested her head on his chest as Andre whispered:
“Though we’re not perfect, though the road may get bumpy, I believe we can make this work and create something beautifully imperfect—something true. I love you so much, Sandra.”
In that moment, they knew:
They had conquered distance.
And what they now shared—
Was for safekeeping.
For forever.
No one promised it would be perfect.
But they promised to make it worth it.
Thank you all for sticking with me hope you loved every moment, Hope to see you guys on my new story
'Falling for the enemy', check it out guysss!!!
- Writer
