Three Years and Eighteen Goodbyes Chapter 2

That afternoon, I returned to the office and handed in my resignation letter.

“Does Kit know you’re quitting?” my supervisor, Holly Thatcher, asked in surprise.

After all, I had been the airline’s top flight attendant for seven consecutive years—a shining star with a bright future ahead.

I gave her a faint, bitter smile. “I’ll tell him tonight, though I doubt he’ll care.”

She sighed.

“You two started flying new routes together and won all those company awards. Even the CEO attended your wedding three years ago. Everyone was so envious… but—”

She trailed off with a heavy sigh, her voice thick with regret.

Yes, those were beautiful memories.

And that’s all they would remain, things you couldn’t return to, no matter how much you wanted to.

By the time I got home, it was already past ten.

The apartment was eerily quiet.

Then my phone lit up with a notification from Katy’s latest social media post in which she had tagged me in.

[Thank you to my teacher, Mr. Rutgers, for staying with me all afternoon! As a reward, I’m taking him to Bruno Mars’ concert tomorrow! Can’t wait!]

I knew then—Kit, who had said at lunch he would come home, wasn’t coming back.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened in the three years since we married.

I made myself a simple bowl of instant noodles and opened my inbox.

Staring at over a dozen offers from international airlines, my cursor hovered over the email from Air Montclaire.

I clicked “Accept” and booked a flight the day after tomorrow to Solara without a second thought.

Five years ago, during a mission to Solara, Kit experienced the most traumatic incident of his flying career.

From that moment on, the city became a forbidden word.

Not only did he stop flying there, but he never let me fly there either.

“Once I set foot in Solara, we’ll never meet again, Kit,” I thought to myself.