In one decisive motion, the man yanked the handle upward, and a loud puffing sound immediately followed.
The emergency exit burst open. Air blasted through, and the emergency slide inflated in seconds, stretching all the way down to the ground below.
The gust that hit my face was freezing, but inside, my blood went even colder.
The second worst thing that could possibly happen to a flight attendant — right after an actual crash — had just happened: an emergency door had been opened while it was still fully armed.
That meant the aircraft was now out of service. Soon, every passenger would have to disembark. Every flight scheduled for that aircraft — today, tomorrow, and probably for weeks — would be cancelled. The plane would need to be sent halfway across the world to have the slide reinstalled by the manufacturer, all at an eye-watering cost.
In short, the financial damage this man had just caused was enormous.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I lunged at the man and slammed him to the floor with every bit of strength I had left.
"You've violated international aviation law, sir!" I shouted, pinning him down. "You're to be detained and offloaded from this airplane right now!"
The man screamed and thrashed beneath me, but my fury somehow overpowered his big, sluggish body. A strong alcoholic stench hit my nose. Turns out his red face wasn't from anger after all — dude was all wasted.
My crewmates rushed toward me, but by then, there wasn't much left to do, really.
The damage had been done.
Soon, airport security flooded the cabin and hauled the man away. The passengers were offloaded. My crew and I were escorted first to the airport office, then to the airline's headquarters.
Hours of investigation and questioning later, I was finally cleared to go home, but with a grounded status. All my upcoming flights were wiped clean, indefinitely, until the investigation concluded and the airline decided what to do with me.
"No, no, no, fuck, no..." I muttered, staring hopelessly at my phone as the taxi sped through the city.
It was supposed to be a good day at work. It had started great. I'd felt as if God was on my side after the breakup with Niklas. Why did everything have to go so horribly, disgustingly wrong?
The elevator dinged as it reached my floor. The wheels of my suitcase dragged heavily behind me. One defeated step after another, I reached home — only to find a familiar figure standing by my door.
Long, wavy golden walnut hair. Brilliant sapphire blue eyes, the very shade that mirrored mine.
The last person I wanted to see right now — Marja.
Those matching sapphire blue eyes were the very reason why we'd bonded so easily in the first place, back in kindergarten. No other kids had eyes like ours. I'd felt like she was my missing half the moment I saw her, so I walked right over and said, "Hi." Looking at them now, all I felt was loss, and regret.
Had she come to gloat? To rub it in that Niklas had ended up with her instead of me?
If so, I'd let her. I had no strength left for cheap drama.
"Kaija..." she murmured, her voice small, guilt written all over her face.
Had it been like before, I would've rushed over to comfort her at the sight of that expression. But right now, even her gorgeous face felt unbearable to look at.
I walked past her, swiped my key card, then muttered coldly, "Just leave, Marja."
"Kaija, please, I want to talk to you!" she pleaded, her eyes already glistening. "I won't take long! Just give me a moment."
I sighed, crossing the threshold and leaving the door open. "Five minutes, then get out of my sight," I said, kicking off my heels. "I don't have the mood for any mushy talk today. I'm tired."
Marja slipped in without hesitation, the door clicking shut behind her.
She knew exactly where to put her shoes. Where the table we usually sat at was. She quickly found her usual seat, graceful as ever. Even when drenched in that questionable regret, she still somehow glowed, like the supermodel she was.
It was only after I sat down across from Marja, looking straight in those sapphire eyes, that I finally understood. The cold, shaking rage I'd felt the other day at Blue Dreams Café, when I saw the two of them smooching and cuddling, had never been because of Niklas.
It was because of her.
Because right now, that same feeling had come crawling back into my body, while yesterday when I faced Niklas, saying those breakup words, I'd felt completely chill and still.
I might have been with Niklas for four years, but I'd known Marja my whole life.
"Your five minutes is ticking," I said, looking away. "Start talking."
"Kaija..." she started, her tone nervous, her gaze cast down. "I want to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm terribly sorry."
I couldn't help but sneer. "And?"
"And I want you to know that I don't want to lose you!" Her voice pitched. "To lose us! What we had!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Us? So you didn't want to lose me, yet you still decided to scoop up my boyfriend anyway?"
"It's not like that!" she leaned forward, her tears already spilling. "Niklas was hurt when you insisted on taking that job. I only wanted to comfort him, to help the two of you make peace."
I shot a skeptical look at her streaming tears. "Look how effective you were with that."
"It was because…" she sobbed, "things just got out of hand, Kaija. I'm terribly sorry. It's just... I've never felt that way with anyone before. The way Niklas made me feel…"
I let out a long exhale.
Wait until you go against his will, and you'll see.
But I supposed I was no longer in that best friend position to give her any relationship advice.
"What do you expect then?" I gave her a weary look. "That we pretend nothing happened and just let it go? You want my blessing?"
She leaned forward and slammed the table, her voice trembling. "Kaija, I'm pregnant!"