“We’re moving,” Beatrice said flatly, her voice leaving zero room for debate. Without saying another word, Julian and Beatrice began frantically gathering their belongings. They stuffed their designer silk travel blankets back into their carry-on bags, grabbed their leather jackets, and unplugged their phones from the faulty charging ports.
They stepped out into the aisle, looking thoroughly rumpled, exhausted, and defeated. Julian held the two boarding stubs tightly in his hand, his knuckles white. As they began the long, humiliating walk toward the back of the plane, a college student sitting in row 2B watched them pass with undisguised, subtle satisfaction, having overheard their arrogant exchange four hours earlier at the departure gate. Not a single word passed between the couple as they retreated behind the heavy navy-blue curtain dividing the cabins.