CHAPTER 110: SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW

The quiet sound of jet engines filled the air. A soft mist drifted along the edges of the runway, and the sky was beginning to darken as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon.

Craig stood beside the sleek white jet, hands buried in his coat pockets, his face calm, but his eyes restless.

The wind tugged at his dark coat, but he didn’t move. He just watched as the black SUV pulled in through the gates, tires crunching softly over the gravel.

Then It rolled to a stop. He was already moving before the driver had turned off the engine.

Craig reached the car in two long strides, opened the back door, and there she was.

Merlina blinked up at him, brows furrowed, lips parted. "Craig...? What’s going on?"

He didn’t say anything at first, just held her gaze with a steadiness that made her stomach flip.

Then he said, simply, "We’re leaving."

She glanced past him to the jet, then back at him. "Leaving where?"

"Paris." The word left his mouth like a promise. "Just two days. No cameras. No college. No press. Just us."

She stared at him, stunned. "Craig," she said softly, "I don’t think a two-day vacation is what we need right now."

He stepped in closer, voice low but unwavering. "It’s exactly what we need."

For a second, she just paused, eyes locked on him, as if trying to make sense of whether this was real. Then her gaze shifted, past him, toward the jet.

The stairs were already down. A small crew stood at the top, smiling politely, like they’d been expecting her all along. Near the cargo hold, she spotted Drew, casually wheeling out a piece of luggage like this was just another Tuesday.

Her voice came out faint, almost disbelieving. "I didn’t even pack."

"Already handled," he said. A soft smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. "You’ve got a suitcase in the cargo hold. Clothes, toiletries, even a sketchbook."

Her eyes widened slightly. "You packed for me?"

Craig let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean... not exactly."

She tilted her head, puzzled.

"I got you new ones," he admitted, a hint of sheepishness in his smile. "Clothes. Shoes. Everything you might need."

Her brows lifted even higher. "You bought me a new wardrobe?"

He shrugged, trying and failing to look casual. "Just enough for two days. Maybe a little more. I didn’t want you to have an excuse not to come."

A small laugh escaped her, half incredulous, half delighted.

He reached for her hand. "Come on. Let’s go somewhere the world can’t follow."

The jet’s interior was nothing short of breathtaking.

Cream-colored leather seats arranged in a lounge-like layout. Soft, ambient lighting glowed along the curved ceiling, giving everything a golden warmth.

Polished wood paneling reflected the soft light, and a faint scent of something clean and citrusy lingered in the air.

There was a plush rug running the length of the aisle, so soft it felt like walking on clouds.

Merlina stepped in slowly, eyes wide. She didn’t say a word, but her expression said enough.

A long table sat between two wide-facing seats at the center of the cabin, and a small bar gleamed at the far end, stocked with glasses and sparkling water bottles nestled in silver chillers.

Craig gestured for her to sit and took the spot directly opposite her. The leather was so smooth it practically sighed beneath her.

Her hands slid across the armrest, still unsure if this was real. She glanced at him across the table, and he was already looking at her.

Under the table, his foot nudged hers, just barely. Her toes curled in response, a smile tugged at her lips.

He was smiling too, their eyes locked. Quiet, steady, and unblinking as their hearts both raced.

It wasn’t just a glance. It was a stare. Long and loaded. A silent exchange that said more than either of them could.

For a few seconds, they just stayed that way, quiet, suspended in this strange, perfect calm between them.

Her fingers curled lightly against the armrest. His jaw flexed, ever so slightly, like he was holding something back.

Then the sound of steps approached from the back cabin.

Drew appeared, composed as ever, dressed in a dark jacket and black jeans, carrying a slim black case. Without a word, he handed it to Craig.

Craig took it, almost automatically. The case was familiar, sleek, matte zipped with precision. His travel staple.

He unzipped it just enough to glimpse the Noise-Canceling Headphones inside, the ones he never traveled without.

He hadn’t thought he’d need them this time, not with her beside him. But still.

"Didn’t think you’d let me leave without these," Craig murmured.

Drew gave a small nod. "You never do." He turned and headed toward the back, settling into one of the seats quietly.

A flight attendant stepped forward a moment later, all composed professionalism. "Miss, would you like something to drink before takeoff? Champagne, juice, sparkling water?"

Merlina blinked, still settling into the surrealness of it all. "For now... no, thank you." The attendant nodded and stepped away.

Craig leaned in slightly, voice low. "I’ll call her back if you change your mind."

She gave a small smile, barely there. He watched her a second longer, then asked, "You okay?"

Merlina let out a breath. "I’m...shocked. Still processing it. But I’m okay."

The jet began to move, rolling slowly down the runway. Merlina glanced out the window, watching the lights blur into streaks of gold and white. The engines rumbled louder, a deep, rising sound that vibrated through the cabin floor.

Then she felt it.

Craig’s hand found hers, without looking, he laced their fingers together. She felt the warmth through her body.

She turned slightly, looked at him. He was still watching the window, jaw steady, face calm. But when he felt her eyes on him, he glanced her way and gave her the softest smile.

Not one that asked for anything. Just one that said, I’m here. Their fingers stayed locked as the jet lifted off.

The ground fell away, the world shrinking beneath them, and for a few seconds, it felt like gravity forgot to pull quite so hard. Like maybe letting go wasn’t so scary after all.

After some minutes, the cabin lights dimmed slightly, casting a golden warmth across the room. The clouds outside had turned dusky gray, brushed with twilight.

Somewhere along the flight, the weight of the past few days finally caught up to her.

Merlina’s body had begun to slow. Her limbs felt heavy, her eyes a little too warm, and the leather seat beneath her was too soft to resist.

She hadn’t even realized how tired she was until one of the cabin crew quietly offered, "There’s a lounge area in the back, if you’d like to rest. More space to stretch out."

She hesitated only a second. Craig gave her a quiet nod, not asking any questions.

A few minutes later, she was curled up in the back of the jet with a plush duvet tucked over her, the hum of the engines lulling her to sleep.

When she woke up, the light in the cabin had dimmed into a soft, dusky glow. The scent of warm food hung faintly in the air, something buttery and spiced.

She rubbed at her eyes and stepped back into the main cabin. Craig and Drew were seated opposite each other, mid-conversation.

"No, I’m serious," Craig was saying, his tone low and amused. "If PSG actually sign him, it’s going to be a disaster."

Drew gave a small scoff. "Only if they let him start. If he just warms the bench and looks impressive in warm-ups, they might survive it."

Craig shook his head, half-laughing under his breath. "He’s not the type to stay quiet, though. He’ll run his mouth in the locker room before kickoff."

At the sound of her footsteps, Craig glanced over and straightened. "Hey," he said, voice gentler now.

Merlina offered a sleepy smile. "How long was I out?"

"An hour. Maybe more."

"You needed it," Drew added with a nod.

Before she could respond, the flight attendant approached with a polished tray. "Miss Sanchez, dinner is ready. Would you like to eat now?"

Merlina gave a small nod and returned to her seat. A moment later, a meal was placed in front of her. Grilled chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables, plated like something out of a fine restaurant.

While the flight attendant adjusted the tray table and refilled her glass, Craig continued talking with Drew, his voice low but casual beside her.

Without pausing the conversation, Craig reached into the drawer beside his seat, pulled out a small blank card and a black pen, and wrote something down.

Then, he slid the card across the table to her. Smooth. Simple. Without a smile, like it meant nothing at all.

Merlina blinked, glancing down at it. Her heart skipped as she opened it. The handwriting was sharp and precise, like him. And the note read:

’There’s no one else I’d rather be here with’