'We made it on time,' Theo remarked as they walked through the security entrance of the airport. She doesn't say a word back, she flashes a quick smile. The airport terminal was a hum of mechanical voices and rolling suitcases, echoing with the frantic energy of people caught between two lives. They approach the waiting area. Jux is seated, his head buried on his phone. He's in a black suit and a black trench coat.
'Good Morning Sir,' Theo greets him once they are in front of him. He lifts his head then back to his golden wrist watch. '9:30. That's more like it,' he comments and buries his head to his phone again. A bright smile flashes through his face. Two seats away from him, Malaika sat in the terminal, her legs crossed elegantly, a high-end fashion magazine resting untouched on her lap. To anyone walking by, she looked like a woman who had already moved on—cool, composed, and utterly indifferent. "The flight boards in twenty," Theo said softly, not looking up from his tablet. "We should start heading toward Gate B."
"Five more minutes," she replied, her voice tighter than she intended. She adjusted her sunglasses, scanning the sea of faces near the security entrance.
She had sent the text last night, a brief message into a group chat that had been silent for two years. I'm leaving for Thailand tomorrow morning. 10 AM flight. It was a gamble—a plea disguised as an update. Every time the sliding doors hissed open, her heart gave a painful thud. She imagined Seth's loud laugh breaking through the crowd, or Ivy's frantic wave. She wanted a movie moment—a breathless apology, a hug that smelled like coffee and forgiveness. A group of teenagers walked by, laughing at an inside joke, and for a split second, she leaned forward, her breath catching. But they passed, strangers with their own destinations.
W"Malaika?" Jux prompted, standing up and walked away.
The terminal clock clicked over. 9:45 AM.
She took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, her hand perfectly steady even as her heart hammered against her ribs. She was a master of the "don't care" silhouette—the slight tilt of the head, the faint, dismissive smile. She looked like a woman who was already halfway to Bangkok, already stepped into her new life.
But beneath the silk blouse and the expensive perfume, she was counting the seconds. She was a child holding her breath, waiting for someone to prove her wrong. She looked at the entrance one last time. The glass doors stayed shut. The apology wasn't coming, and neither were they. She felt a sharp, cold clarity settle in her chest, replacing the frantic hope.
"Gate's closing," Theo noted, standing up and retractable the handle of his briefcase. He looked at her, his gaze piercing. "Time to be the version that doesn't look back." She stood up 'We don't want to be late, do we?"
She turned toward the jet bridge, her spine straight as an arrow, the "don't care" mask fused to her face. She was halfway down the tunnel when the first distant shout echoed through the terminal—but she didn't stop. Not yet. "Malaika! Wait! Please!"
The shout was muffled by the thick glass, but the desperation in it was unmistakable. It was Ivy's voice—shrill, cracked, and breaking through the airport's mechanical hum.
She didn't stop. She didn't even break her stride. She adjusted the strap of her designer handbag, her face a mask of bored elegance. To Theo, she looked like a woman who hadn't heard a thing. To herself, she felt like a string pulled so taut it was vibrating.
"They're actually here," Theo whispered, glancing back toward the gate doors. "Malaika, I think—I think that's Omar, too."
Malaika let out a short, airy huff, the kind of sound one makes at a mild inconvenience. "They're late, Theo. I have a schedule to keep. She knew the value of the "don't care" attitude—it was the most powerful leverage she had. Suddenly she stopped mid stride and turned slowly. Ivy looked a mess. Her hair was windswept, her coat was buttoned wrong, and she was clutching a crumpled paper bag like a lifeline. Behind her, lagging a few paces back and looking uncharacteristically sheepish, was Omar.
"You're actually going," she panted, skidding to a halt just outside the boarding rope. She was doubled over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. "We thought—we thought we'd missed you."
Omar stopped beside her, rubbing the back of his neck. He wouldn't meet Malaika's eyes at first. "The traffic was hell," he muttered, though they all knew that wasn't the only reason they were late.
Malaika felt a hot sting in her eyes. The anger she'd rehearsed for two years felt suddenly flimsy.
"You came," she whispered. He stepped up besides Ivy, "Wow, looking at you feels like a debt I can never be able to repay. The words… and the words….. huff… I am sorry, those words are really hollow compared to the most precious anyone can ever be given: time. I don't expect your forgiveness but I want you to know that I know the weight of what I did and the pain I caused.'
The gate agent's voice crackled over the speakers, announcing the final boarding call for Flight 405.
'Mmh wow I… i… I… we came too late. I don't even get to apologize properly,' he remarked nervously. But then, a third figure emerged from the crowd, walking at a steadier, more deliberate pace. It was Filly. While Ivy and Omar had arrived as a unit, Filly came alone. A few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on Malaika with an intensity that made her breath catch. He stopped mid-stride silent, letting the others babble. His presence a grounding wire.
The gate agent cleared her throat. "Ma'am? We're closing the door."
"I have to go," she said, her voice trembling.
"Call us when you land?" Ivy pleaded.
"I'll think about it," she said as the door began to swing shut, finally severing the physical connection but leaving a new, complicated thread behind.
The heavy door of the jet bridge clicked shut, a final, pressurized sound that felt like a gavel hitting a bench.
Ivy immediately crumbled, burying her face in her hands. "We almost missed her," she choked out, her shoulders shaking. "God, she looked so... different. Like she was already gone before the plane even moved."
Omar reached out, awkwardly patting her shoulder. He looked at the closed door, his expression unreadable. It wasn't love, and it wasn't hate. It was just... distance.
"She said she'd think about calling," he said, trying to sound optimistic, but his voice lacked conviction. "That's something, right?" Five feet away from them Filly stood, staring at the tail of the plane visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"You okay?" Ivy asked, wiping her eyes and looking over at him. His face was a mask of practiced calm, but his knuckles were white where he gripped his phone. "She's doing what she needs to do."
"We should go grab a drink," Omar suggested, shifting uncomfortably.
"The three of us or should we invite the full squad like usual?" Ivy inquired pulling out her phone as if she was expecting for Omar's suggestion. He looked at Omar, then at Ivy. He thought about the secret he'd kept for a year—the way his heart stuttered every time Malaika laughed, and the way he'd stayed silent about his feelings so he wouldn't complicate her recovery from their betrayal.
"I think I'll pass," he said, his voice clipped. "I have things to take care of. He walked away without looking back.
Malaika sat on 4A, looking like a girl trying to hold onto the last pieces of a broken heart. "You're so brave," Theo whispered, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "After everything they did... I'd have caused a scene back there."
She offered a faint, watery smile, her eyes shimmering with what looked like unshed tears. "I just don't see the point in carrying around all that anger. Life is too short to be anything but kind" leaning her head against the cool plastic of the window.
"You're a saint," he murmured, turning back to his book, his heart aching for her boss.
She then pulled out her phone and opened her chat with Filly and sent a photo of the clouds—beautiful, serene, and distant.
"It's beautiful up here. Thank you for being the one person who didn't make me feel like I had to perform.."
She switched off the screen and closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching into the tiniest, most innocent smile.