Taeho:

  Business Class for many airlines means giving their passengers plenty of space and privacy. Some of them even provide single-seat configurations. Sadly, this airline isn’t one of them. I’m stuck with a neighbour who not only claimed the window seat but whose head is now lolling in sleep. It could be worse I suppose, at least she’s kept to herself for most of the flight. For some reason, though, she’s piqued my curiosity. Something about her seems… alluring. She’s dressed in all black, except for some knee-high red combat boots, but her face is mostly hidden by a mask and sunglasses—perhaps thats what intrigues me. Perhaps she’s a criminal mastermind escaping overseas. Or maybe she’s a celebrity who wants to travel under the radar. She’s not the only one wearing a mask on this flight, but why the all-black outfit? And why the sunglasses? She hardly needs them on while she’s asleep.

  My eyes spot her necklace as it catches the light from the sunlit window, and I can’t help following the chain down to where it sinks into her cleavage that’s peeking from her unzipped hoodie. I know I shouldn’t but I haven’t been able to stop myself stealing glances at her curves this whole flight.

  I close my eyes in sudden guilt. I’m not in the habit of ogling women or of my mind wandering in those kinds of directions. Plus, I have a fiancée. Eliza’s not with me on this trip and I do miss her, but things between us have felt so… off. Something hasn’t been quite right between us lately. I hope I’m wrong because the last thing I want is to derail everything.

  I want to finish the contract at the clinic in Los Angeles, marry Eliza, and set up home with her in South Korea within the next year. It’s my “big plan” and it’s been in the making for nearly a decade. Our engagement was years ago, and she’s been increasingly antsy for the wedding. Frankly, so have I, and now it’s time to get the ball finally rolling.

  That’s why I’m sitting here now. I’m flying out to see my parents and get their formal consent. They’re hardly likely to disapprove, but it’s a tradition in my family. They seem content with my achievements in California and they’ll certainly support my decision to marry and come home. Now that it’s starting to happen, I can’t deny I’m longing for family, longing for home. It’s time I settle down.

  I’m startled out of my thoughts by a sudden vice-like grip on my arm. I quickly respond by taking her hand in mine and that’s when I notice she’s still asleep.

  “Hey,” I whisper, but her erratic breathing continues.

  I assume she must be having bad dream so I gently shake her awake. Without warning, she jolts upright and gasps for air. I automatically hit the flight attendants’ button for assistance.

  “Oh god. I’m so sorry,” she says, breathing deeply.

  She takes her hand out of mine like she’s been stung before taking her headphones off.

  “It’s fine. Are you ok?”

  “Oh, yeah, I just… I…” She pauses, scanning her surroundings. “Didn’t we just hit turbulence?”

  Using my best soothing voice, I fill her in on what’s happened. The flight attendant arrives to check the situation. I tell her that this passenger is my wife and needs some water. The wife part is a small lie, I know, but if they get one whiff of a medical incident of a person unrelated to me, there’ll be a full-on inquiry. I’m in no mood for the airline’s bureaucracy or filling in paperwork for what was clearly just a bad dream.

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  When the flight attendant leaves and returns, water in hand, the woman next to me takes her mask off to drink. I check the colour has returned to her cheeks and I smile in relief. Despite my assurances that everything is fine, I notice her expression tense when the captain announces the upcoming landing. So that’s it—she’s probably afraid of flying.

  Once the seatbelt sign comes on and we’re well secured, I extend my hand out for her again. She takes it after some hesitation, but this time, her touch feels different. It’s more personal. There’s more of a connection. Now I really can’t deny the signals this woman’s touch is sending through my body, and I don’t know what to make of it. I try to stop the thoughts that start racing through my mind.

  I mentally remind myself, This means nothing. Just think of it as comforting a patient.

  But then she grips harder—as if her life depends on me—and I get a rush of pleasure that confuses me even more.

  What the hell is going on with me? I think.

  I search my mind for a suitable distraction for us both.

  “So, are you on vacation?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t notice how flustered I am.

  “What?” Her voice shakes as she gasps, closing her eyes tight shut.

  “Well, I’m assuming you’re not Korean by the sound of your accent.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m… I guess you could say that,” she says, visibly trembling.

  “Is this your first time flying?”

  “Not remotely.”

  “Oh?” I raise my brow. “I would have bet on this being your first time.”

  “I… I really don’t know what’s wrong with me… I’m usually not like this. I’ve flown so many times before. You’d think I’d be used to landings by now. I’m just… not myself today.”

  “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine,” I say, squeezing her hand to reassure her. “We’re almost there.”

  “This is so embarrassing,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes.

  “This happens more often than you think. I’m used to it. Honestly, it doesn’t faze me.”

  The corner of her mouth quirks up. “So, you get women holding your hand every time you fly?”

  “Tons.” I smirk.

  When the plane touches down, her body relaxes and her hand slips out of mine. For a split second, I’m overcome by a sense of loss. Holding her like that felt so… natural.

  I have to mentally berate myself again, No. Think of her as a patient. Nothing more.

  Once the engines go quiet, I stand to grab my woolen overcoat from the overhead compartment to wear over my Armani suit. The suit was fine for my seminar but it’s not looking its best after the flight. But before I can reach for my luggage, I’m suddenly pulled into, what I think, is an attempt at a side hug.

  The woman beside me must have stood up too and is now wrapping me in her arms. When the scent of her perfume hits my nostrils, I freeze. The effect on my body is immediate, intoxicating me completely and reigniting those sensations I really shouldn’t be feeling.

  I need to escape this situation. Now! I mentally yell.

  “Thank you.” She whispers softly in my ear.

  Her warm breath on my neck reaches parts of me that her scent missed. None of it is helping me suppress the urges that have suddenly overtaken me.

  Keep it together, Tae, I coach myself. You’re almost done. Just a few more minutes and you’re home free.

  Whatever I tell myself, though, I can’t seem to let go. In this moment it feels as if I’m taking in her very essence. I realize I may be holding on too long, but letting her go feels like it’s tearing my soul. I’m tempted to give into these new and overwhelming feelings, but then my brain finally kicks in, and I release her.

  Too much. That was too much.

  I take a breath before nodding and beginning to say, “Your welc—” but I barely get the word out when I see her face without mask and sunglasses looking up directly into mine. And… wow, that sight does nothing to still my beating heart.

  ?Sky Mincharo