The Kindest Goodbye

In those eight terrifying seconds when the plane dropped into darkness, my first thought was how devastated Lucas would be if I never made it to the airport.

However, after surviving and landing safely, what greeted me instead…was a photo he shared with his childhood sweetheart, the two of them smiling on a hike.

The caption read:

[Here's to still being wild with you at sixty.]

If it had been before, I probably would have blown up his phone, demanding an explanation and picking a fight.

However, then, after brushing so close to death, I just felt… tired..

So I typed out a message: [Let's get a divorce.]

A couple next to me held each other tight, their tears flowing freely. The girl was a survivor, just like me.

In the lounge the airport had set up, everyone was busy calling their loved ones to let them know they were okay. I watched them, one by one, quickly getting through, and I could not help but smirk bitterly at myself.

I had barely caught my breath after we landed safely when I had frantically dialed Lucas Hoffman's number. It rang for a mere second before the call was dropped.

I told myself Lucas was probably just waiting for me at the exit, all worried.

However, when I went to text him, I saw that he had posted on his social media a few minutes before. There he was in a selfie with Yvonne Emerson, his childhood best friend.

They were cheek to cheek, shoulders touching, grinning on some mountaintop. The caption hit me hard.

[Hope we're still living it up like this at 60.]

The fear I had felt for him while I was plummeting from the sky, the thought that he would be devastated if I died, all seemed like a cruel joke then. He was busy making wishes to keep the good times rolling with someone else, not me.

It did not take long for the news of our flight's mishap to explode across social media. The cockpit windshield had shattered, and the pilot had to land the plane manually, battling the cold and the loss of cabin pressure.

My parents had seen the news and called me right away, and my friends all checked in too. However, Lucas, whom I always kept at the top of my chat list, had not sent even one message.

Our last conversation was still about the flight details I had sent him four hours ago. No reply from him.

There I was, foolishly thinking he would be at the airport to pick me up, worried sick like the boyfriend next to me, his eyes red from crying for his girl.

However, as I sat there, my heart, which had been racing with terror as we fell from the sky, finally began to settle.

I typed out the message with a heavy heart. [I think we should get a divorce.]

Within a minute, my phone buzzed. It was Lucas.

"What's gotten into