Chapter 63 Relief
Chapter 63 Relief
Aiyana's P.O.V
The sky is seconds away from betraying me.
I can feel it.
That last stretch of light clings stubbornly to the horizon, but it’s fading - thin, fragile, like it’s already made its decision. The cabin around me feels tighter with every passing moment, like the walls are closing in, like the air is being rationed.
Night is coming.
And when it comes…
They will make me leave.
My fingers dig into the armrest, my grip so tight it almost hurts. I don’t loosen it. Pain is better than the alternative. Pain is something I can control.
This…
This waiting…I can’t.
Jerome’s voice won’t leave my head.
“If I don’t return by nightfall, they put you on the plane.”
Not ask.
Not suggesting.
Put.
My jaw clenches.
“You’re not here,” I whisper under my breath, my voice tight. “So you don’t get to decide that.”
But even as I say it, I know it’s not true.
He already did.
That’s the problem.
Everything is in place. The jet. The crew. The men outside. Even the timing of it all—he calculated it down to the minute.
Except himself.
He didn’t guarantee he would come back.
My chest tightens violently.
No.
I shake my head, hard, forcing the thought out before it roots itself.
He’s coming back.
He has to.
Because if he doesn’t…
My eyes flick to the door again.
The guards are different now.
Still controlled, still silent, but there’s tension in the way they stand. A readiness. Like they’re bracing for the moment they stop waiting and start acting.
My stomach twists.
They’re watching the sky too.
Waiting for the same thing I am.
The difference is that I’m hoping it holds.
They’re hoping it doesn’t.
A soft voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Ma’am… we may need to prepare for departure shortly.” The Pilot says walking out of the pit and looking directly at my seatbelt, saying with her eyes what her mouth didn't utter, but I keep my eyes on the window, on that fading light like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered here.
“Not yet.” I say, my voice quieter than I expected.
It’s not night.
Not yet, and until it is, I’m not moving.
My heart is beating too fast now, uneven, erratic. Every second stretches, warps, becomes something heavier than it should be.
Come back.
The words repeat in my head, over and over, like a prayer I don’t know how to stop.
Come back before I’m forced to leave you behind.
The light dims again.
My breath catches.
This is it.
This is the moment where hope starts to crack, and then…
Noise.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Wrong.
My head snaps toward the cabin door as voices rise outside - urgent, overlapping, nothing like the controlled quiet that’s been suffocating me for the past hour.
Footsteps.
Running.
Fast.
My heart slams violently against my ribs.
Something’s happening.
The guards at the entrance straighten instantly, tension snapping through them like a pulled wire.
“What is…” I start, but the words fall apart in my mouth.
Because the door bursts open.
A man rushes in, breath uneven, eyes sharp but not really panicked or afraid.
Something else.
“Stand down!” He says immediately, voice cutting through everything. “Stand down! orders just came in!”
Everything inside me goes still.
The world narrows.
The sound fades.
All I can hear is my own heartbeat.
“What orders?” One of the guards demands, already moving toward him.
The man doesn’t hesitate.
“He’s alive.”
The words hit me like something physical.
Knock the air out of me.
“He’s alive,” He repeats, faster now. “Mission complete. Boss is on his way back.” The guard said but my brain focused on that word ‘Alive’.
For a second, I don’t understand.
The word floats somewhere just out of reach, like my mind can’t quite grab it, can’t quite believe it.
Alive.
My grip on the seat loosens.
My knees almost give out.
“Say that again.” I whisper, my voice breaking before I can stop it.
The man looks at me directly this time with some softness in his eyes like he could tell I was losing my shit minutes ago.
“He’s okay.”
And just like that, the anxiety inside me breaks. The fear, the tension, the suffocating anxiety that’s been wrapped around my chest like a vice dissolves.
Fast.
Like soap under rushing water.
My lungs expand fully for the first time in what feels like hours, a sharp, shaky breath tearing out of me as relief crashes through my body.
He’s alive.
The thought floods my mind, over and over, louder each time.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
A laugh escapes me - soft, disbelieving, trembling at the edges.
My hands come up to my face without thinking, pressing briefly against my lips like I can hold the feeling in, like I can stop it from overwhelming me.
But I can’t.
It’s too much.
Too bright.
Too everything.
I push to my feet, the movement sudden, urgent.
“I’m going back.” I say, though no one has asked me anything.
No one stops me.
No one even tries, because the orders have changed.
I don’t wait or think. I just move.
I ran as fast as my legs would carry me and as I did, my heart realised that there was no way I could live with the thought of him not being in this world.
I realised that he meant so much more time than I even though.
What I feel in this moment is a relief that I can't explain
My heart is racing again, but it’s different now - lighter, almost unsteady in the way it surges forward instead of collapsing inward.
I need to see him.
That’s the only thought that matters.
The cabin door is open before I reach it, one of the guards already stepping aside, giving me space without a word.