Don't Explain

twenty

The flight from LA to Minneapolis felt like it stretched on longer than four hours. I spent most of it staring out the window, watching the clouds pass beneath me, my thoughts racing ahead to what would happen once I landed. By the time the plane touched down at just past 3 in the afternoon, I felt that familiar flutter of nerves again.

I stepped off the plane and into the cool Minnesota air, which was a stark contrast to the warm LA sunshine I'd left behind. The crispness of the fall breeze hit me the moment I stepped out of the airport doors, and I pulled my jacket a little tighter around me.

As promised, there was a driver waiting for me just outside. He stood near a sleek black SUV, holding up a small sign with my name on it. I smiled as I approached, and he gave me a polite nod, taking my suitcase from me and loading it into the back.

"Miss, welcome to Minnesota," he said, his voice polite and professional. "I'm here to take you to Mr. Nelson's residence."

The mention of "Mr. Nelson" made me smile. Even now, it was odd to hear someone refer to Prince by his last name, but I supposed that was how things worked in his world.

The drive to Chanhassen was peaceful, the hustle of the city fading behind us as we made our way through the suburbs and then into more rural areas. The landscape around me changed, giving way to large, open spaces, trees with leaves beginning to turn shades of orange and red, and a sense of quiet that was so different from LA.

As we neared his house, I felt the anticipation build again. The road stretched on, winding through trees and over small hills, until finally, the driver turned onto a long driveway lined with more trees.

And then there it was—Prince's home.

I had seen it before, of course, but each time I arrived, it felt almost surreal. The house was grand without being ostentatious, blending into the natural beauty of the land around it. The architecture was modern yet somehow still warm, a reflection of its owner.

The driver parked near the entrance, stepping out to retrieve my suitcase as I took in the view. The house stood proudly against the backdrop of the Minnesota landscape, with the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over everything.

"Mr. Nelson will be expecting you," the driver said as he handed me my bag.

I thanked him and took a deep breath as I walked up to the door, feeling a rush of emotions hit me all at once. I knocked lightly, but before I could even step back, the door opened, and there he was.

Prince stood in the doorway, looking every bit as calm and collected as ever, but there was a warmth in his eyes when he saw me. He smiled, that familiar, easy grin that made my heart skip a beat.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and welcoming.

"Hey," I replied, feeling a rush of relief at seeing him again.

Without missing a beat, he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. The warmth of his body against mine, the scent of him, the familiarity of it all—it made everything else fall away.

"Long flight?" he asked, his voice soft against my ear.

"Yeah, but worth it," I replied, pulling back just enough to look up at him, my smile matching his.

He took my hand, guiding me inside. "Come on in. You're just in time."

Prince led me through the warm, inviting space of his home, his hand still gently holding mine. The cool air of Minnesota had faded the moment I stepped inside, replaced by the soft, ambient light and the comforting sense of being in his presence again.