185. Between Leaving and LandingNova

The plane hasn’t even finished leveling out before the tears come again.

They don’t ask permission. They don’t rise dramatically. They just spill, silent and relentless and they slide down my cheeks and disappeare into the cashmere blanket I’ve pulled up to my chest like a shield.

For the first time in my life, I am grateful for first class.

For the privacy.

For the cocoon of space.

For the way no one looks too closely unless I invite them to.

I turn ...