“Is Dad leaving us?”
“It doesn’t matter, honey. Just focus on enjoying our flight.”
“But you’re his wife.”
He started crying quietly.
I pulled him against me.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to walk to the front of the plane and demand that Tyler explain himself.
Instead, I sat there because the plane had begun pushing back from the gate and my son needed me to be calm.
The flight lasted less than two hours.
It felt like 10 hours.
Mason barely touched his gummy bears.
His drawing stayed folded in his backpack.
When we landed, we waited until most passengers had left.
I had no idea what I would say to Tyler.
I only knew I would not leave the airport without looking him in the face.
We entered the terminal.
Then I saw him.
Tyler stood near the entrance to an airline lounge, and Laila was beside him.
