The drive to the airport was quiet.
The roads, usually crowded, were still waking up. The city lights flickered like sleepy eyes adjusting to daybreak. In the backseat, Maria kept her hand on her suitcase, as if afraid something might change if she let go.
Her parents sat in the front, Richard at the wheel, Elena turned slightly toward the window. The silence was full, not empty—filled with everything they weren't saying aloud.
As they neared the terminal, Maria's heart began to pound. Her throat tightened. She watched the signs pass: Departures, International, Check-In. Each one like a countdown, a soft whisper of this is really happening.
They pulled up to the curb. No one moved for a moment.
Finally, Richard stepped out and lifted her suitcase from the trunk. Elena walked around slowly, arms crossed, as if shielding herself from the inevitable.
Maria turned to them both.
Maria: (quietly) "Thank you. For everything. Even when it was hard."
Elena stepped forward first, her lip trembling.
Elena: "Call me when you land. And when you get to the hotel. And before your first meet with the team And after."
Maria: (smiling through tears) "I will."
They hugged for a long time, swaying slightly as if the motion could keep them tethered.
Richard hugged her next, tighter than he ever had.
Richard: "Show them who you are, kid."
Maria: "I will."
She kissed them both, one last time, and turned toward the entrance.
She didn't look back until she reached the glass doors. When she did, her parents were still standing there—her mother waving with a trembling hand, her father nodding once, as if sealing the moment in place.
And then she stepped inside.
Later, on the plane, high above the clouds, Maria pulled out her journal. The hum of the engines was calming, the world below growing smaller with each passing mile.
She flipped to a fresh page and began to write:
"This is it. The first page of a new chapter. I've never been more scared—and never more certain. I am leaving behind love, comfort, safety... not because I don't value them, but because they taught me how to be strong enough to reach for more. To my parents—thank you. You gave me roots. And now, I'm learning to fly."
She stared out the window at the open sky and, for the first time in days, smiled without hesitation.
YOU ARE READING
Ink and Heartstrings
Short Story"Ink & Heartstrings" crafts a compelling narrative of romance and self-discovery within the vibrant world of publishing. The images used are not my own, they have been sourced from various other places.
