The boarding pass stared back at you, taunting you with the absurdity of it all. A text from an unknown number simply reading:

Get on this flight, you have an hour.

Then, as if scripted from a spy movie, the boarding pass appeared in the thread. Destination? Seattle. No sender name. No explanation. Your better judgment whispered against it, but curiosity screamed louder. It wasn’t like your Saturday afternoon was filled with plans. So you did the only “logical” thing: grabbed your bag and got on the plane.

You slumped into your seat in 23A, too distracted to notice the figure in 23B until his chuckle pierced your thoughts. A low, familiar sound that clawed at your chest like nails down an old scar.

“Still impulsive, I see,” he said, his voice smooth and infuriatingly self-assured.

Your head snapped to him. Luke. Your ex-fiancé, the one who disappeared two years ago like smoke in the wind, taking half your heart with him. His golden hair was tousled in a way that seemed effortless, hazel eyes gleaming like they held every secret in the world. Your jaw tightened.

“You!” you hissed, low enough not to alert the row ahead. “You sent that text?!”

He grinned, smug as ever. “Nice to see you too, darling. You really should read unknown messages more carefully.”

You couldn’t believe it. Your stomach churned between rage and the unsettling thrill of seeing him again. “Are you out of your mind? What is this? Some elaborate prank?”

His grin widened. “Not a prank, love. Just… unfinished business.”

You wanted to slap that smirk off his face, but the seatbelt sign came on, sealing you to this nightmare.

“Unfinished business?” you bit back. “The only unfinished business we have is why you left.”

“Exactly,” he murmured, leaning just close enough to make your skin prickle. “And by the time this flight’s over, you’ll know why.”

The plane lifted off, your heart slamming in your chest as the city disappeared beneath you. You had an entire flight to endure his presence—and god only knew what waited on the other side.