Caden
cleared his throat. He set the coffee cup down. His hands were shaking, just slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What I said… it was out of line. Way out of line.”
“I know,” I said.
He waited, maybe expecting me to say more. To let him off the hook. I didn’t. Some hooks are meant to stay in place long enough for a lesson to sink in.
“Tomorrow, when you’re flying,” I said, “remember that the pilot in the left seat might have a story you don’t know. Might have earned her seat in ways you can’t imagine. And if you’re going to call someone ‘sweetheart,’ you’d better be prepared to find out what they’ve done.”
I picked up my bag and walked toward the door. Rachel, the flight attendant, caught my eye and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. It was the kind of nod that said, I see
