When Two Roads Meet

Elena's apartment was half-packed.

Cardboard boxes cluttered the floor, some labeled with shaky handwriting—books, kitchen stuff, don't open unless heartbroken. That one made Aidan laugh when he read it, then quietly slid it to the back of the pile.

She was leaving the country again. Not because she was running—but because she was choosing. For the first time, her career wasn't a burden, it was a part of her. And this time, she wasn't choosing between love and ambition—she was choosing both.

Aidan handed her a roll of tape while she sealed the last box. "You sure you don't want me to come help you settle in?"

She glanced up, smirking. "You'd hate the tiny flat they offered me. And you're terrible with jet lag."

He grinned, unbothered. "Fair point. But I could survive it. For you."

"You'll visit." She leaned in, brushing her lips against his cheek. "Often."

He wrapped his arms around her, inhaling her scent like it was the only air he ever wanted. "Every month. Maybe every two weeks."

She chuckled, eyes misting. "You're ridiculously romantic sometimes."

"Only for you."

A silence fell between them—not heavy, just full. The kind of silence that knew no goodbyes were permanent, not when hearts were tethered across time zones.

"You know," she said, pulling back, "when I first met you, I thought you were arrogant. Entitled."

"I was."

She snorted. "Still kind of are."

"But now you love me for it?"

"I tolerate it."

They both laughed, the kind that echoed warmth through the empty walls.

He grew quiet again, his fingers brushing hers. "Elena, when I saw you at the airport… I had no idea how much you'd change my life."

"Same," she whispered. "You were a mistake. A wrong pickup. A wrong turn."

"Best mistake I've ever been."

She kissed him then, deep and slow. It tasted like everything they'd endured—misunderstandings, anger, grief, love. It tasted like the future.

When they pulled apart, she looked around her now-boxed-up apartment. "It's funny. I came here thinking I'd never go back."

"And now?"

"I'm not going back. I'm moving forward—with you waiting on the other side."

He grinned. "Always."

As the sun dipped outside her window, Elena felt the weight of her life shifting. Her heart wasn't torn anymore—it was full. Rooted in something that stretched across oceans.

Some stories began at arrivals.

Theirs had started with a mistake at the terminal—and now, it was flying somewhere new.