Love in turbulent class
- 24 abr
- 4 Min. de lectura
—You know they’re gonna catch us sooner or later, right? —she said, wrapped in a sheet, leaning against the doorway.
He lit a cigarette from the bed and gave her that grin that always made her melt.
—If it hasn’t happened in two years, it’s not happening now.
—You’re way too confident. One day we let our guard down and boom, building-wide scandal.
—Well, gotta keep things exciting.
She walked over and took the cigarette from his mouth.
—Don’t know how much you enjoy adrenaline, but I’m the one landing a Low Cost flight through a thunderstorm at Aeroparque.
—Nah, but sometimes trading feels just as shaky.
—You don’t look like you suffer turbulence.
—You don’t see me suffer at all, babe.
She smiled. She loved that guy. The cynicism, the clean-cut look, the confidence. He could’ve been with a model, but no. He liked playing with fire, and she was the perfect spark.
She climbed on top of him and kissed him.
—You sure I don’t scare you?
—You’re the most dangerous thing in my life.
—Then shut up and enjoy the crash.
They gave in to it again, like always, not giving a damn. Until the doorbell from across the hall rang.
She rolled off him and wrapped herself in the sheet.
—You expecting someone?
—No…
He pulled on his pants and peeked through the peephole.
His jaw clenched.
He opened the door. There stood his daughter.
—What are you doing here?
—What, can’t I visit my dad?
—No, I mean… you could’ve let me know...
—Why? Am I interrupting something?
Before he could make something up, his daughter caught sight of the woman’s silhouette in the hallway. The flight attendant tried to slip back into her place, but it was too late.
—No way… —the girl muttered, with a mix of shock and disgust.
The flight attendant held her gaze.
—Hi.
—“Hi”?! Are you seriously sleeping with my dad?!
The trader closed his eyes for a second.
—We can talk this out…
—Talk?! Dad, she’s my age! This is insane!
The flight attendant crossed her arms, calm as ever.
—Look, I get it’s a lot to take in, but…
—Don’t explain anything! This is sick!
The flight attendant raised an eyebrow.
—Okay, slow down. I’m not a virus.
—Don’t talk to me like you’re my stepmom!
The trader ran a hand down his face.
—Listen, it’s not what you think…
—Oh yeah? Then what is it?
Silence.
She looked at her lover, waiting for him to speak. He said nothing.
The daughter shook her head.
—What a disgrace…
She turned and walked away.
He shut the door. The flight attendant sighed.
—Well, rough landing.
—It’s not funny.
—A little bit.
—This is gonna mess things up.
She walked over and straightened his collar.
—That’s why they pay us to handle turbulence, right?
But he didn’t smile. Something had shifted, and she knew it.
The following days, he was distant. He didn’t break things off, but the vibe was off.
Until one morning, as she packed for her next flight, a message came through.
"
Flight 3142. Maintenance flagged. Be cautious."
It was from a coworker.
She looked at the uniform hanging on the chair.
She thought about calling in sick.
But she didn’t.
The trader was in his apartment when the notification popped up.
"Flight 3142. Lost from radar 50km outside San Luis."
His stomach dropped.
He ran out without thinking.
When he got to the crash site, the rescue workers stopped him.
—Are you related to anyone onboard?
He hesitated.
—Friend —he muttered.
They showed him some recovered items.
When he saw the silver pendant, his stomach clenched.
He picked it up carefully, like it burned.
And that’s when he knew he’d lost something he never dared to call love.
But it was.
Elsewhere in the city, his daughter saw the headline on her phone.
"Flight 3142 crash. No survivors."
A knot formed in her chest.
She picked up the phone and called her dad.
—Dad…
—…
—Dad, about the other day… I was way out of line…
Silence.
—Are you there?
He breathed heavily on the other end.
—She was on that plane.
Her chest went cold.
—No…
—Yeah.
A long silence.
—I didn’t want it to end like this.
—Me neither.
She swallowed hard.
—I’m coming to you.
—You don’t have to.
—I’m coming.
She hung up and went to find him.
At the crash site, the trader stood among the scorched wreckage.
His daughter arrived, saw him, and froze.
For the first time, she didn’t see “dad.” She saw a broken man.
She walked up and placed a hand on his shoulder.
—Did you love her?
He took his time answering.
—I don’t know.
She squeezed his shoulder.
—Yes, you do.
He closed his eyes.
She hugged him.
They didn’t say anything else.
They didn’t need to.
The End
Ariel Villar
Café Temperley☕
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Ariel Villar
Café Temperley☕
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