“I don’t care if it’s a damn anniversary or a meeting or whatever,” he continued, softer now. “You come first when you’re like this. We’ll go out, get some air. Clear your head.”
“Really?” Shannon gasped, her voice lighting up. “I can leave? I’m not dreaming, right?”
Felix let out a quiet breath, almost amused. “Since when do I lie to you? Get ready. We’re leaving now.”
And then the sound of the helicopter.
Loud. Familiar.
Carrying her away.
Again.
…
Four years ago, when I had just lost my right hand and the pain was so bad I couldn’t even breathe, Felix stayed with me the whole time. He didn’t sleep, didn’t eat properly, just stayed there like if he let go for even a second, I’d break.
One night, he dragged me out of bed and carried me straight to a helicopter. I remember clinging to him, weak, barely holding on, and he just held me tighter like I was something fragile.
When we were high up in the sky, he tilted my face toward the window.
“Look,” he said softly. “See that? All those buildings… they look small as hell from up here, right?”
I nodded, my vision blurry.