“Looks like you’re looking for rescue.”
The word hits hard. Because it’s close enough to the truth to sting. And far enough to feel like an accusation.
“We’re just talking.”
“Okay,” he says. Smug. “Just… be mindful.”
I want to scream. Instead, I nod.
He lingers. Waiting. For what, I don’t know. Maybe an apology. Reassurance. Submission.
When he doesn’t get it, he turns. “And Ivy?”
I look up.
“Don’t make impulsive decisions right now.” A beat. “You’re not stable.”
The door closes behind him.
I stare at it, my whole body shaking now.
Not because I believe him. Because some part of me still reacts like I should.
I open the laptop, my hands still unsteady. The flight is still there waiting.
I don’t stop this time.
I just move.
Screenshot. Send.
My heart is racing like I’ve done something irreversible.
Soren replies immediately.
Soren:
Hang on. Booking it now. What’s your DOB? Frequent flyer? Known traveler number?
No hesitation. Like he’s been waiting.
I send him the info.
Minutes later, a screenshot.
Soren:
Does this look right?
I check over the details and thumbs up the picture.
Then another.
BOOKING CONFIRMED.
One-way.
I stare at it, my breath catching.