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Ryan

Wheels screech as the plane touches down at LAX.

The older woman sitting next to me stretches her arms over her head as she yawns. Her hand taps my shoulder. She smiles, apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Your first red eye?”

“I guess it is.”

“You get used to them.”

I nod. Turn my cell off airplane mode. The time refreshes, but my texts and emails stay silent.

“Why were you in Hawaii?”

“A wedding.”

“How sweet?”

“No.” I slide my cell into my pocket. Better not to look at messages. I already got a yes from Brendon. I can’t let anything talk me out of this. “It’s today.”

“Oh.”

“I had to… my girlfriend needs me.”

She rests her hand on her heart. Makes that oh, how sweet noise. “Will you two be next?”

“I don’t know. Probably not. We’re new.”

“But you love her?”

I stare back at this woman. She’s a stranger, but she seems kind. Loving. She’s wearing a wedding ring. She must have some fucking insight. “How can you know for sure?”

“You feel it.”

“How did you know?”

“I thought about my future, about what I looked forward to. I asked myself if I wanted to wake up next to him every day. I did.”

“That’s it?”

“What’s more loving than staying in someone’s life?”

“How long have you been married?”

“Thirty years.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

The plane stops at the gate. The fasten seatbelts sign turns off. The intercom whirs with something about how we can now stand.

The woman smiles. “I hope things work out with her.”

“Me too.”

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