TURBULENCE

ANNA

The soft hum of the plane is the only thing keeping me from spiralling deeper into my thoughts. I sit there, staring out the window at the endless clouds, trying to focus on anything other than the storm raging inside me. The nausea from earlier has mostly subsided, but it’s nothing compared to the swirling emotions in my chest. Damien is sitting beside me, unusually quiet, and it’s making everything worse. The tension between us is suffocating, even as he tries to improve it.

“Anna,” Damien says softly, breaking the silence. His voice is hesitant like he’s treading carefully. “Are you still feeling sick?”

I turn to face him, his eyes full of concern. The genuine worry on his face makes it hard to stay distant, but I force myself to hold back. “I’m fine,” I reply, my voice flat. I don’t mean for it to sound cold, but it does.

He doesn’t drop it. “You don’t look fine, baby.”

There it is again that word. Baby. He’s called me that a few times now, and each time, it feels strange. F