When people hear the story they always want the moment in the aisle — the reveal, the drained face, the even little line about my seat.

And I give it to them, because it’s a good moment.

But it was never the point.

The point was the third seat itself: that I bought it, calmly, with my own name on it, and walked down that aisle a woman who already knew exactly where she was going — and it was not Miami.

THE END.