Walking down the terminal toward the plane, she tries to hide her red eyes and discreetly wipes the tears from her cheeks. She stuffs the torn and soaked tissues into her pockets with her free hand. There is a buzz all around her from the families and friends that are traveling together. She didn’t even want to think about making this trip alone, but the thought wouldn’t get out of her head.

Finally stepping over the threshold of the jet, she doesn’t even bother looking at the stewardess greeting everyone as they enter. After being herded down the aisle, she takes her seat by the window and tries to calm herself down. She prays for an empty seat next to her, but a large man with a briefcase sits down next to her. She makes it clear she has no interest in talking to anyone by putting earphones on, and pretending to be listening to music. Leaning over, she looks out the round glass  at the ground crew loading the luggage onto the airplane. For a moment she forgets her sorrows and laughs at the site of her suitcases on their way up the conveyor. She then quickly pulls the shade down. She doesn’t want to watch herself leave. The lady in the seat ahead of her turns around and seems to hesitate before saying, “Your husband back there looked so sad to see you go. It was so sweet.”

The look she gave the woman made the stranger’s smile fade. She pulls the airline blanket around her shoulders and up underneath her chin. She closes her eyes while she tries to hold his face in her mind. Leaving like this wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t her choice. What would she do if she never saw him again? When would her sinking heart find its way back into her chest? All she wants to do is disappear, but she would settle for falling asleep through the whole trip.

She is awakened by the passenger next to her when he accidentally bumps her arm. She half-smiles to let him know she wasn’t annoyed with him for waking her up. She slides her arm out from under the blanket and checks her watch. Two hours down, one to go. Right before she pulls her arm back into the warmness, the ring on her finger catches her eye. Another well of tears are forcing their way behind her eyes. Her throat becomes tight again, and she squeezes her eyes closed to take control of the inevitable sob that was making its way up from the pit of her stomach. Not here.

After fading in and out of sleep, she arrives at her final destination. She pulls out a hand mirror from her purse, and attempts but fails to cover the traces that show she has been crying. Her nose seems to be frost-bitten red, and her eyes are swollen and pink. The sunlight hurts her eyes, so she puts on some sunglasses. She decides to pull the ring off of her finger and she slips it into her pocket. Walking again up the terminal, she doesn’t even want to see them behind the glass waiting for her. She wants to see him waiting for her. She sets her jaw in a way that doesn’t show which emotion she is feeling. She didn’t even pretend to look for them, but they picked her out in the crowd. She sees them approaching her out of the corner of her eye.

She then dumps her bags into their outstretched arms to avoid the hugs they would be trying to throw at her. After the polite conversation in the elevator to the parking garage, they head out to the car for the seemingly endless drive that lies ahead of them. She doesn’t know which will be worse: the drive back home, or the knowledge she might never see him again.