Travelling with my mom, I had booked window and aisle, hoping middle stays empty. If someone did get it, I’d offer our aisle or window. So we board.
A woman is in my aisle seat. Already! AirPods in, eyes shut.
Whatever – I slide into the middle. 5 minutes later, a man showed up. The woman froze when he abruptly said, “I think that’s my seat you’re in.”
She opened her eyes and blinked at him like she just woke up from a coma.
“Oh, I thought it was open seating,” she mumbled, taking one AirPod out.“It’s not. That’s 18C, and it’s mine,” he said, polite but firm.
She looked over at me, as if hoping I’d offer her mine to avoid the awkward shuffle. I didn’t.
I had already given up the aisle so my mom could have the window, and I had the middle now. I wasn’t about to play musical chairs for someone who didn’t ask nicely.
After a pause, she sighed dramatically and got up. The guy slid into his seat, nodding at me with a small smile.
“Thanks for not making it weird,” he said.
I smiled back. “No problem. Travel brings out the best in everyone,” I joked.
The woman didn’t say another word the entire flight.
Just sat back down one row behind us, glaring occasionally. I tried not to let it bother me. I had mom on one side and some peace and quiet for the next few hours.
Or so I thought.
Midway through the flight, the man next to me pulled out a book, and I noticed the title—Learning to Let Go. My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “Is it any good?”
He glanced over. “Yeah, it’s helped me more than I expected.
Lost my wife last year. Still figuring out how to move forward.”
I blinked. That wasn’t what I expected.
I felt a knot in my chest.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, sincerely.
He nodded. “Thanks. It’s… different, flying alone now.
We used to travel all the time.”
My mom, who had been half-dozing, gently touched his arm. “She must’ve been special.”
He smiled, but his eyes shimmered. “She was.
Her name was Rosa. She was the kind of person who made everyone feel like they mattered.”
There was a silence between us that didn’t feel awkward—just full.
I didn’t know what made me ask, but I said, “Is this your first trip since she passed?”
“Second. First one I canceled.
Couldn’t get on the plane. This one, I promised myself I’d try again.”
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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