The cabin goes silent. Every conversation stops at the same time. The plane steadies, but the engines sound wrong. The left side is louder than it should be, and the right side is quieter than it should be. I've flown enough charters in nine seasons to know that's not normal.
The captain comes on the intercom. “Gentlemen, we've experienced a mechanical issue with our starboard engine. As a precaution, we're going to divert to Pittsburgh International for an emergency landing. Please fasten your seatbelts and remain seated. Flight crew, prepare the cabin.”
The plane banks hard to the right as it begins to descend, and my stomach drops. The cabin is dead quiet now. I look around the cabin. Nobody is talking. Every hand is gripping an armrest, including mine.
Cole turns around from his seat in the front row. “Stay calm, boys. These pilots know what they're doing.” His voice carries through the silent cabin, and a few guys nod, but the worry doesn’t leave their eyes.
The plane is descending fast. Faster than a normal approach. The flight crew moves through the cabin quickly, checking seatbelts, stowing anything loose, and speaking in low voices to each other.
Blake's knuckles are white on the armrests. He's staring straight ahead at the seat back in front of him. “If we make it through this, I'm proposing to Mia tomorrow.”
I don’t have it in me to respond. If I open my mouth right now, I might puke.
The plane shakes through a patch of turbulence, and the overhead bins rattle again. I flinch and grip the armrests tighter while watching the clouds rushing past.
We're descending through a thin layer of gray, and the ground below is getting closer and closer, but we don’t seem to be slowing down. It’s not long before I can make out roads and farmland and the sprawl of a city in the distance. My heart is pounding, sweat prickles at the back of my neck at the realization that this plane could very well crash.
My mind goes to my family. Mom and Dad on the couch in Long Island, watching the game tonight on TV, not knowing yet that the plane is in trouble.
Dom in his apartment with Sarah, living the life he chose. Nolan on the road with the Runners, probably on his own team bus heading to his own game somewhere.
And then I think about Jasmine. I saw her less than two hours ago. What if that was the last time I ever saw her?
She doesn't know that leaving her was the worst decision I've ever made. I didn’t tell her that losing her was the hardest thing I've ever gone through. That I've thought about her every single day for ten years. That every woman I've met since then hasn’t been able to compare to a girl from Long Island who made me feel seen and loved for the first time in my life.
If this plane goes down, she won’t know that reconnecting with her these last few weeks has been some of the best weeks of my life. That I never stopped loving her. That I want to try again.
The captain comes on the intercom again. “Brace for landing.”
The runway is visible through the window, gray and wide, with fire trucks and emergency vehicles lining both sides, lights flashing red and white in the late afternoon sun.
The engines scream as the pilot adjusts the approach. The cabin is silent except for the rush of air against the fuselage and the heavy breathing of twenty-five men holding their breath.
Blake reaches over and grips my forearm. I grip his hand holding me.
The ground rushes up, and we make impact.
10
Jasmine
“That man drove across Manhattan to bring you coffee and pastries before his flight,” Clara asks, standing over my desk.
“He brought coffee for the whole office,” I say, feigning ignorance at what she means.
“He brought coffee for the whole office because of you. That man is in love with you, and everyone on this floor just watched it happen in real time.”
“Clara, please.” I pick up my coffee and take a sip. It's perfect.
He got me a latte, which is what I order every time. He either remembered from ten years ago, or he paid attention at the End Zone when I ordered one after my cocktail. “Can we please get back to work?”
“We can get back to work when you admit that Logan is not just a friend from high school.”
“He is just a friend from high school, Clara, and you’re being dramatic.”
“I'm being observant. There's a difference.” She takes a bite of her croissant. “The almond Danish is incredible, by the way. If you don't date him, I will.”
I arch a brow at her. “You’re married.”
