Branalie backed into a plastic chair and hung her head in her hands, thinking of how many lives she's torn, how many hearts she's broken. But her thoughts were broken by the Delta attendant calling her flight to board.
Slowly, she stood, a silhouette against the setting sun reflecting through the glass. Branalie picked up her carryon, sighing, as if it bore her a great burden, and trudged to the gate.
As she walked down the dimly lit corridor to the plane, she heard a noise behind her. Branalie turned, and looked back at the all-too-familliar face.
"Wait Branalie, Don't go yet! I'm sorry." "Ryan? How did ?— What?"
Ryan fought against the attendant and ran down the corridor, grabbing Branalie before she stepped on to the plane.
"Please don't go. I love you. I need you. I don't know what I would do if you walked out of my life."
Branalie turned towards him in a defiant act against her heart and spoke the words that would haunt the two for weeks, "I'm sorry, Ryan, but I've made up my mind about this, and I have to move on. You'll know my reasons soon enough." She walked on to the plane, never looking back.
Ryan walked out of the airport to his car, and as he unlocked the black Explorer, heard a plane takeoff in the distance, and for once, didn't care.
But when he got home, parking the car was a challenge, because his eyes were full of tears.
