The flight back felt like someone had sucked all the air out of the cabin.
They sat on opposite sides of the jet again, same as the way out, but everything was different now. Ella kept her face turned to the window the whole time, watching the clouds slide past in slow, gray layers. She tried not to think about the island, about the last sunrise shoot, his arm around her waist, his chin resting on her head, the quiet “This one’s real” he’d whispered like it was a secret only they knew.
It didn’t feel real anymore.
Alex didn’t speak once.
His laptop stayed open, fingers flying over the keys, jaw locked so tight a muscle jumped every few minutes. Every now and then his eyes flicked toward her, quick and sharp, almost angry, then back to the screen. She pretended not to notice.
The fligh
