The Road Trip
1283 Words
Emma hated flying.
Not because she was afraid of airplanes.
Not because of turbulence.
Not because of heights.
She hated flying because it gave her too much time to think.
And thinking has become dangerous lately.
Especially when every thought somehow led back to Noah Callahan.
Three days after the disastrous dinner, she found herself standing on the tarmac beside the team's private charter.
Cold morning air whipped through her hair.
Players loaded bags.
Coaches reviewed schedules.
Media personnel checked equipment.
Everything felt normal.
Except for the fact that Noah was somewhere nearby.
And Emma had spent the last seventy-two hours trying not to think about him.
It hadn't worked.
Not even a little.
"Ready?"
Lucas appeared beside her carrying two coffees.
Emma smiled.
"You keep saving my life."
"I take my responsibilities seriously."
He handed her a cup.
Their fingers brushed.
Friendly.
Comfortable.
Simple.
The exact opposite of every interaction she'd ever had with Noah.
Lucas glanced toward the aircraft.
"You look nervous."
"I'm not."
"You just looked at the plane like it personally offended you."
Emma laughed.
"Fine. I hate flying."
"Good."
She blinked.
"Good?"
"Now I have an excuse to sit beside you."
His grin was impossible to resist.
Emma rolled her eyes.
"You are relentless."
"I've been told worse."
The easy banter relaxed her.
At least until a familiar voice interrupted.
"Boarding starts in five."
Every muscle in her body tensed.
Noah.
Of course.
Lucas turned.
"So the captain speaks."
Noah's gaze shifted between them.
His expression remained neutral.
Professionally neutral.
The kind of neutral that required effort.
A lot of effort.
Emma noticed.
Unfortunately, she was becoming very good at noticing things about Noah.
Things she'd spent years trying to forget.
"Morning," she said.
The simple greeting felt oddly intimate.
Noah's eyes flickered toward her.
"Morning."
One word.
Yet her heartbeat stumbled anyway.
Ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
Five years later and he still had this effect on her.
Noah glanced at Lucas.
Then at the coffee in Emma's hand.
Then back at Lucas.
The tiny movement shouldn't have meant anything.
Except it did.
Because Noah looked irritated.
Again.
Lucas seemed to notice too.
A mischievous smile appeared.
Dangerous man.
Very dangerous.
"See you on the flight, Emma."
He deliberately touched her shoulder before walking away.
Emma almost groaned.
The gesture was innocent.
The timing wasn't.
Noah's jaw tightened instantly.
There it was again.
That jealousy.
That possessiveness.
That impossible contradiction.
Because people who didn't care weren't jealous.
People who had moved on didn't react this way.
Yet Noah clearly did.
And Emma didn't know what to do with that.
The flight was supposed to be simple.
Supposed to.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
Emma boarded the plane and immediately froze.
Her assigned seat sat directly beside Noah's.
Of course, it did.
Naturally.
Why wouldn't it?
Apparently the universe had abandoned subtlety altogether.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Noah looked up from his phone.
For the first time all morning, genuine amusement touched his face.
The sight nearly stole her breath.
She hadn't realized how much she'd missed his smile.
"We can switch."
His offer surprised her.
Emma studied him carefully.
The Noah she'd loved would have insisted.
Would have teased her.
Would have enjoyed watching her squirm.
This Noah simply looked concerned.
"No."
She slid into the seat beside him.
"We're adults."
The words sounded confident.
Mature.
Reasonable.
Unfortunately, her pulse disagreed.
The plane took off twenty minutes later.
Emma immediately regretted every life choice she'd ever made.
Not because of Noah.
Because of turbulence.
The aircraft jolted sharply.
Emma gripped the armrest.
Hard.
Very hard.
Noah noticed instantly.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
The lie was obvious.
Another bump rocked the plane.
Emma's knuckles turned white.
Noah stared.
Then they sighed.
The sound was strangely familiar.
The same sigh he'd used throughout college whenever she was being stubborn.
Without a word, he held out his hand.
Emma blinked.
"What are you doing?"
"You always hated turbulence."
Her heart stopped.
The casual statement hit harder than expected.
Because he remembered.
After five years.
He remembered.
Not just the important things.
The little things.
The tiny details most people forget.
The realization hurt.
Beautifully.
Painfully.
Hurt.
"Noah..."
His hand remained extended.
Steady.
Patient.
Waiting.
Exactly the way he'd always waited for her.
Emma stared at it.
Then slowly placed her hand in his.
The moment their skin touched, electricity shot through her.
Noah inhaled sharply.
Emma did too.
Neither spoke.
Neither moved.
Their hands remained clasped together.
Just like they had hundreds of times before.
Only now does it feel different.
More dangerous.
More meaningful.
Because they both knew exactly what they were risking.
The plane hit another patch of turbulence.
Emma squeezed instinctively.
Noah squeezed back.
And suddenly she wasn't twenty-seven.
She was twenty-two.
Curled against him during another flight.
Laughing while he promised to protect her from absolutely everything.
Even gravity.
A lump formed in her throat.
The memories felt too close.
Too alive.
Too painful.
Eventually the turbulence passed.
The smooth flight returned.
Neither immediately let go.
Then reality caught up.
Emma pulled her hand away.
Noah looked out the window.
The loss of contact felt strangely disappointing.
To both of them.
Several hours later, most passengers slept.
The cabin remained quiet.
Dim.
Peaceful.
Emma couldn't rest.
Too many thoughts crowded her mind.
Too many questions.
Eventually she stood.
Stretching her legs.
"I'm going to grab water."
Noah nodded.
"Okay."
The interaction felt oddly domestic.
Like they were a couple traveling together.
The realization made her hurry toward the back of the aircraft.
The galley area was empty.
Emma poured herself water.
Took a sip.
Then they noticed a familiar duffel bag resting nearby.
Noah's.
She recognized the team logo.
The captain's initials.
Everything.
Normally she would have ignored it.
But a partially open zipper caught her attention.
And something inside made her freeze.
A photograph.
Her photograph.
Emma's breath caught.
Slowly, she stepped closer.
Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it.
The photograph sat partially visible inside an interior pocket.
Old.
Worn.
Faded around the edges.
But unmistakable.
It was her.
Five years younger.
Smiling at a beach.
Looking directly into the camera.
The photograph Noah had taken during their last vacation together.
Emma stared.
Unable to breathe.
Unable to think.
Unable to understand.
Why would he still have that?
Why carry it?
Why keep it after all this time?
A thousand explanations rushed through her head.
None made sense.
Because no matter how she looked at it, one fact remained.
Noah had carried her photograph for five years.
Five.
Years.
The realization shook her completely.
A floorboard creaked behind her.
Emma spun around.
Noah stood in the doorway.
His eyes immediately followed hers.
To the photograph.
Silence.
Heavy.
Painful.
Neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Then Noah looked away.
The first sign of embarrassment she'd seen from him since their reunion.
And somehow that broke her heart.
"It was supposed to be in a different pocket."
His voice sounded rough.
Raw.
Honest.
Emma swallowed.
Hard.
"You still carry it?"
Noah laughed softly.
A sad sound.
The kind that came from old wounds.
"Apparently."
The answer wasn't really an answer.
And they both knew it.
Emma stared at him.
The man she'd spent five years believing had forgotten her.
Moved on.
Stopped caring.
Yet everything she was seeing suggested the opposite.
The photograph.
The jealousy.
The pain.
The memories.
All of it pointed toward one impossible truth.
Noah never stopped loving her.
The realization terrified her.
Because if he still loved her...
Then maybe she wasn't the only one who never truly moved on.
And that possibility was far more dangerous than heartbreak.
It was hope.
- Writer
