ONE-WAY FLIGHTS AND ONE LAST CHANCE
822 Words
The airport was a blur of motion and noise.
People rushed past in tailored suits and travel-wrinkled hoodies. Announcements echoed overhead, reminding everyone of flights they couldn’t afford to miss.
Claire stood in the middle of it all, painfully still.
Her bare feet had started to ache, her dress was wrinkled and stained, and her hair, once styled to perfection, now hung in soft, chaotic waves. People glanced at her like she was part of a film set they couldn’t find the cameras for.
But Claire didn’t care.
She had one goal.
Find Ethan.
Chase walked beside her, still chewing gum like he was bored of the entire world. “You sure you even know where to start?” he asked.
Claire scanned the departure screens, voice tight. “I remember… from the last time.”
He c****d his head. “You mean the last timeline?”
She ignored the jab.
“He took a flight to Country B,” she said. “Business class. Evening departure.”
“That narrows it down to every rich guy in a blazer heading overseas,” Chase muttered.
Claire kept moving, weaving through the crowd like she could will Ethan into existence.
But every step felt heavier. Every gate she checked—no Ethan.
No sign of his tall frame.
No familiar voice.
No second chance.
At Gate 9, she slowed.
A flight to Country B had just departed.
Her chest sank.
She was too late.
Again.
She leaned against a column, letting her head rest against the cold metal. Her chest tightened, heart thudding loud and hollow.
This was it.
She’d changed everything, risked everything, and still—
He was gone.
“He wouldn’t have waited,” she whispered.
Chase, standing nearby with his hands in his pockets, gave her a look she couldn’t read.
He stepped closer. “You did the right thing.”
Claire didn’t answer.
He shoved his hands deeper into his coat. “Even if he’s not here to see it.”
She stayed quiet, eyes on the tarmac outside.
Through the glass, a plane was ascending. A tiny silver arrow piercing the clouds.
Somewhere on it, Ethan might be sitting.
Unbothered.
Done with her.
And she couldn’t even blame him.
⸻
By the time she stepped outside, the night had crept in. Chase’s car was nowhere in sight.
He’d dropped her off and disappeared, like a sarcastic guardian angel.
Claire shivered as she pulled her arms around herself. Her wedding dress fluttered in the wind, useless against the chill.
No ID.
No money.
No shoes.
No plan.
She spotted a cab and flagged it down.
The driver raised an eyebrow at her appearance but didn’t comment. “Where to?”
“Home,” she said quietly. Then, more specifically, “The Bennett estate.”
He nodded and started the meter.
The ride was silent.
Well—except for the driver.
He was a talker.
“You just get out of a movie set or something?” he asked, grinning into the rearview mirror. “That dress is next level.”
Claire didn’t respond.
He chuckled. “Let me guess… runaway bride?”
Still nothing.
He gave her a sympathetic glance. “Don’t worry. Love’s a messy game.”
Claire’s fingers curled around the folds of her dress.
“It’s not about love,” she murmured.
It was about betrayal. And regret. And missed chances.
And now… it was about survival.
⸻
The gates of the Bennett estate creaked open as the cab pulled up.
Claire climbed out, dragging the train of her dress behind her.
Auntie Lin, the housekeeper who had raised her since she was a child, opened the door with wide, worried eyes.
“Miss Claire…”
“Can you pay the driver?” Claire asked softly. “I’ll repay you.”
Auntie Lin hesitated, but nodded. “Of course.”
Claire stepped inside.
The house was silent. Too silent.
Until a deep voice cut through the air.
“So you’ve finally returned.”
She turned.
Richard Bennett stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, face hard.
Next to him, Sabrina sat like a porcelain doll, innocent and untouchable.
Claire didn’t flinch. “I’m not here to argue.”
Her father’s voice cracked like ice. “You embarrassed this family. Ruined an alliance that took years to build.”
She met his glare. “I avoided marrying a man who would’ve destroyed me. That’s not ruin. That’s clarity.”
“You humiliated us,” he snapped.
“I saved myself.”
Richard pointed toward the door. “Then save yourself somewhere else. You’re no longer welcome here.”
Claire’s chest tightened. She’d known this was coming.
She nodded slowly. “Fine.”
She turned, just as Sabrina called after her sweetly, “Need me to help pack?”
Claire didn’t respond.
Because if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from lunging.
- Writer
