Lukas stared at him.
"That's actually worse."
"I disagree."
"You would."
João stood and grabbed his backpack.
"Someone that beautiful probably doesn't even exist."
Lukas pointed toward the cabin door.
"Exactly. She only exists in your imagination."
"That's not supportive."
"Reality rarely is."
A few minutes later they descended the aircraft stairs.
The difference between Mallorca and New York became obvious the moment Lukas stepped onto the tarmac.
The air carried the faint scent of saltwater.
Warm Mediterranean sunlight washed over the airport, reflecting off distant buildings painted in shades of white and cream. Even the atmosphere felt different. New York had seemed to move at a relentless pace, as though every person in the city was racing toward something. Mallorca felt calmer. Slower. The kind of place where people actually stopped to enjoy the view.
Lukas adjusted the navy New York Yankees cap he had bought a few days earlier and slipped on his sunglasses.
