Chapter 16

Chapter

Sixteen

The moment Claire"sgrip faltered, the world shifted into slow motion. My heart didn"t just skip a beat—it froze, suspended in a silent terror as I watched her lose her battle with gravity. The vibrant blue of her parrotlet form stood out against the lush green backdrop, a vivid streak of color in freefall.

The instinct to protect, to save her, it overrode everything else. There wasn"t a thought, just a primal urge that propelled me forward. I"d made a promise to catch her if she fell, and in that moment, it was the only thing that mattered.

Swooping down, the rush of air and the rapid beat of my wings were the only sounds in a world that had narrowed down to just the two of us. "I"ve got you," I willed her to hear, to believe, as I closed the distance between us. When I finally had her safely in my grasp, the surge of relief was so intense it was almost dizzying.

But now we've landed. The tension in my feathers eases, but my heart is still racing. I look at her, really look at her, and offer, "See? Told you I wouldn"t let you fall." But the tremor in her small form tells me everything I need to know—she's shaken, deeply so.

"I think I"m done for today," she murmurs, and I can't blame her. The fear of flying is one thing; the fear of falling is something else entirely.

"You"ll get the hang of it," I try to inject a bit of optimism into my voice, but it feels hollow even to me. "And I"ll be right here to catch you, every time."

I can see it in her eyes. She"s been let down before, probably more times than she"d like to admit.

And it hits me.

She isn't just scared of flying. It's deeper than that. Iris didn't cover the half of it.

But here in this moment, I want her to feel different, to know that she can count on me. If I say I'll catch her, I'll catch her—every. single. time.

The drive back is quiet, a reflective silence that hangs heavy between us. I steal glances at her, watching her as she gazes out the window, lost in thought. The weight of the day, of that moment of freefall, seems to rest on her shoulders.

I keep telling her she"s okay, trying to lighten the mood, but I know it"s not that simple. It"s not just the fall; it"s everything it represents for her.

"I"m okay, Morgan, really," she insists, but there"s a tremor in her voice that says otherwise. I nod, trying to respect her need to process this on her own, but damn, it"s hard not to just pull over and talk it out.

When we get back to the inn, she"s quick to jump out, almost as if she can"t wait to get away from the jeep, from me, from the reminder of what happened. "I"ll catch up with you later," she says, and then she"s off, jogging back to her bungalow without a backward glance.

I watch her go, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. Relief that she"s physically okay, but frustrated because I know mentally, she"s anything but. I want to help, to make her understand that what happened today doesn"t define her or her ability to fly. But she"s not ready to hear that, not yet.

I lean back in the seat for a moment, taking a deep breath. The beach is quiet, the usual afternoon buzz of guests not yet started. It gives me a moment to think, to reflect on the day and on Claire. Her fear of flying, her hesitation, it"s all part of a bigger picture, one that I"m only just starting to see.