“Doing what?”
The Single Dad hesitated.
Then answered.
“Before my son.”
The CEO understood enough from his tone not to joke.
He looked toward the blue planet sticker.
“I had another life.”
“Most people do.”
“Not like that.”
She waited.
He explained slowly.
He had served years earlier.
He had left when his wife became ill.
He had needed to become a husband and father more than anything else.
The Female CEO listened.
No interruption.
He told her the Captain had once been responsible for his team.
Years later, during a humanitarian evacuation overseas, something went wrong.
He kept details vague.
Chaos.
Damage.
Smoke.
The Captain trapped.
The Single Dad went back.
The CEO whispered:
“You saved him.”
He looked uncomfortable.
“I carried him out.”
“That sounds like saving him.”
“He would’ve done the same.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s who he is.”
The CEO watched him.
“Is that why he welcomed you?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
The Single Dad smiled.
“He enjoys embarrassing me.”
“That is a very expensive method of embarrassment.”
He laughed.
The CEO studied him for another moment.
Then asked:
“Why are you sitting in economy?”
He looked at her.
She immediately regretted the question.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.”
The Single Dad smiled faintly.
“Because that’s the ticket I could afford.”
She looked down.
He continued:
“Life doesn’t assign seat numbers according to history.”
“That would be weird.”
“And complicated.”
She smiled.
He looked toward the laptop.
“My son doesn’t care what seat I’m in.”
“He cares whether I show up tomorrow.”
The CEO said nothing.
Something in her expression softened.
Then:
“He’s lucky.”
The Single Dad looked at the photograph inside the laptop folder.
“No.”
“I’m lucky.”
The Female CEO leaned back.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
The cabin resumed normal activity.
Phones.
Laptops.
Whispers.
Someone behind them was almost certainly searching the Single Dad’s name.
He hated that.
The CEO did not touch her phone.
That surprised him.
Instead, she looked out the window.
Then she said:
“My father died when I was young.”
The Single Dad turned.
She remained focused on the clouds.
“He wasn’t around much even before that.”
“Work.”
“Travel.”
“Duty.”
“My mother raised me.”
The Single Dad listened.
“She worked three jobs.”
The CEO smiled sadly.
“Cleaning offices at night.”
“Bookkeeping during the day.”
“Weekend shifts at a grocery store.”
“She used to sleep sitting up because if she lay down properly she couldn’t wake up for the next job.”
The Single Dad looked at her.
The glamorous outfit suddenly seemed irrelevant.
“She paid for school?”
“Barely.”
The CEO touched one diamond earring.
“I spent my entire adult life believing if I became successful enough, it would justify what she sacrificed.”
The Single Dad said:
“Does she think that?”
The CEO frowned.
“What?”
“Does she think you owe her?”
“No.”
“Then who decided you do?”