Page 11 of Before I Should Leave

The Delta line barely moved. I shifted my weight from one heel to the other, chewing the inside of my cheek, trying not to roll my eyes at the family of four up front still arguing over checked baggage fees like we weren’t in the middle of an airport apocalypse.

Diesel stood close enough for me to feel his presence, but didn’t crowd me. He’d tucked his hands in his pockets, calm as ever like the airport wasn’t giving chaos and malfunction on every level.

Finally, we stepped up. The agent was a young Black woman, probably in her twenties, her slick ponytail frizzing at the edges from the humidity in the terminal. Her name tag said Rita, and her face said I don’t make the rules.

I tried to soften my voice.

“Hi. My flight to Chicago was canceled. I was hoping to get rebooked.”

Rita barely blinked.

“Confirmation number?”

I rattled it off. She tapped. Tapped again. Clicked. Then squinted at the screen.

“Mmhmm. Okay, so…”

she sighed.

“Yeah, looks like there’s nothing going out tonight. The earliest I got is 6:45 tomorrow morning. The weather's locking everything down.”

I blinked.

“That’s the earliest?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Not even another airline?”

“Ma’am, everything eastbound is being rerouted or grounded.”

Diesel stepped a little closer, not saying anything, just there. Solid. Silent. Rita kept typing.

“You got priority status so you’ll be on the first out. And it looks like the airline’s offering a comp hotel stay tonight at the Marriott inside the terminal.”

I stared at her.

“A hotel in the airport?”

“It’s connected through the shuttle tunnel. You won’t have to leave the premises.”

I was seconds from snapping. Not at her because she didn’t cause the weather but just at the situation. The delays. The shift in plans. The unraveling of control I’d fought all damn day to keep tight. “Okay,”

I said, forcing calm into my voice.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Rita handed me a little voucher slip and pointed to a side kiosk.

“You’ll check in through there. The shuttle runs every fifteen minutes. You’ll get a king and it’s really nice.”

I took the slip and stepped away from the counter with Diesel following. He didn’t say anything until we cleared the crowd, and then, he said.

“I’ll stay wit’ you.”

I turned to him, brow raised. “What?”

“Hotel. I’ll ride it out, make sure you’re good. I just gotta talk to valet real quick to keep my truck overnight.”

“That’s… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know that, too.”

“So why stay?”

He looked at me like the answer was obvious.

“Because I want to, Emani.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again and looked around the terminal like someone might pop up and tell me what the hell to say.

“I don’t want to hold you up—”

“You’re not.”

He didn’t move or even blink. He just waited for me to believe he meant that. I sighed, lips parted like I still had something to argue, but nothing came out. Diesel glanced down at his phone.

“Lemme go handle my truck. I’ll be right back.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Then I watched him jog toward the exit doors, his tall frame moving with purpose, hoodie damp from the rain, phone already at his ear as he disappeared into the curbside madness.

And for the first time since the moment I saw that cancelled notification, I stood there alone. My hand tightened around the handle of my luggage. My heart still beating a little too fast. My phone buzzed again, and it was Jonnae calling. I finally answered. “Hel—”

“Girl, what the hell?!”

Her voice was already panicked.

“Why am I just now getting a cancellation alert? I've been in this damn dry-ass sushi spot thinking you're on the way to Chicago!”

“I was, and then the airline decided to play in my face.”

“Is there another flight?”

“Nothing until tomorrow morning.”

“Shit,”

she muttered.

“Shit. Okay, okay, so you’re staying out there? Where are you? Do you need me to call—”

“I’m staying at the airport hotel. They comped me a room.”

“Okay. Good. Okay. And that driver? Is he still there? He didn’t just leave you, right?”

I glanced toward the glass doors, heart doing something I didn’t like.

“He’s handling his truck,”

I said, my voice softer.

“But… yeah. He’s, uh... he's staying.”

There was a pause on her end.

“So… let me get this straight,”

she finally said, slow and suspicious like she was building a case.

“You’re stranded at the airport… in the middle of a thunderstorm… and the man who drove you there is now staying... overnight?”

I sighed, shifting my weight and looking away from the glass doors like doing that would make her less annoying. “Jonnae…”

“No, no. Don’t ‘Jonnae’ me,”

she said, already giggling.

“Girl! What kinda rom-com soft-core Black movie of the year are you in right now?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Mmm. But you see how fine he is?”

I didn’t answer. “See,”

she said, laughing louder.

“That silence is loud. And you didn’t deny it again.”

I rolled my eyes.

“He’s just making sure I’m good.”

“He can make sure that pu—”

“Jonnae.”

“I’m just saying! I ain’t never had no driver offer to sleep nearby in case I needed an emotional support back rub!”

I was trying not to smile but it was hard when she was being exactly who she was.

“You need help.”

“I need details! Is he hood-hood with a hidden soft center? I need to know what kinda sex playlist to queue up in my mind.”

“Oh my God,”

I muttered, turning away from the terminal crowd so nobody heard her foolishness but me.

“Don’t act brand new. You might fold like airport pretzels because we both know it’s been too long since you had—”

“Goodbye,”

I said, cutting her off with a smirk I couldn’t suppress.

“I’ll keep you posted if anything changes. Just stay alert for any new emails or updates, okay?”

“Fine. But I’m telling you now, I’m so happy for you!”

I hung up mid-laugh and shook my head, tucking my phone back in my coat pocket just as the doors slid open again. Diesel walked back in like the storm didn’t touch him. He was wet now, but that stride of his was still calm. Smooth. That same focused, unbothered energy in his step. And I swear—for a second—I forgot what I was stressed about.

He stopped in front of me, giving that subtle nod like everything was handled.

“Valet’s good. Truck’s covered ‘til mornin’. You ready to check in?”

I nodded, lips still curved from Jonnae’s nonsense, but I swallowed it down. “Yeah.”

“Everything cool?”

he asked, reading my face like a damn book.

“Just my assistant being… herself.”

He raised a brow.

“She the one that called me fine earlier?”

I smiled.

“Unfortunately.”

He chuckled.

“She seems invested.”

“She is.”

“She wrong?”

I blinked.

“About what?”

He met my eyes.

“Me being fine.”

I bit my lip and turned toward the kiosk.

“Let’s go check in.”