12A was by the window, both next seats empty. Jade easily made herself comfortable in it, her full-length black sundress ideal for traveling.

She was one of the last to board, there was a chance she had the row to herself. A suit too tall for the head attached to it to be visible squashed that chance, by thrusting a suitcase in the overhead compartment.

When the dark-haired man crouched, to better see his partner in toilet breaks for the next several hours, she raised a welcoming eyebrow. Contrary to the wide cut pants, too short on him, of wool that should've shined more, the man flashed a relaxed clean-shaven grin, as if seeing Jade was the highlight of his day.

“Is this the train to Paris?” his voice tried to be serious, but she liked his lame flirt. It helped that his eyes burned coals, overlined with thick eyebrows that mirrored each other perfectly.

“This is a plane,” she smiled back. “And it's heading for Rome,” she watched him cram in the small space he had spent hundreds of dollars on, one seat away from her.

“Good one,” he laughed, too confident. “I know this is a plane.” Settled facing forward, he didn't even bother to pretend to try to keep his legs anywhere but on the aisle. The flight attendants were going to hate him.

“Rome,” he shook his head to himself, his buzz cut unbothered by the movement.

Jade had to bite, “Yeah… Rome? You know, Italy?”

“This plane goes to Paris,” his attention was back on her. “You know, France?”

His wolfish grin extended, hinting she might be wrong.

“Pretty sure it's Rome, it's on my ticket,” Jade tried to convince both of them. Where had she last read where the plane was going? What did the signs look like?

An idea saved her from panic, “They don't just let people on wrong planes, they check their boarding passes!”

She hoped, “And mine says Rome.”

He handwaved, “I guess we'll see when we get there.”

Since there was no concern in his voice, Jade went back to thinking it was all a weird advance from a man without expertise in the area. If he was hitting on her, he would insist. Jade decided to verify by watching how the airplane's wing cut the pasty sky in half, providing its only pattern.

“And what are you doing in... Rome?” he confirmed her suspicion, although not completely.

A blank in her mind, then Jade told the truth, the first thing that came to her. “I was supposed to elope with my boyfriend. He flaked,” she shrugged. They'd spent years together, but Jade had no regrets, she had always known she would never grow old in her hometown.

“He didn't show up?”

His calm flattered Jade. Not surprised by the information, he just didn't see why anyone would do that.

“Oh, he showed up. To apologize,” she rolled her eyes. “Ugh.”

He ignored her to search through his pockets, hopefully in a poor attempt to give her his number or something. But when he found his boarding pass and his eyes widened reading it, Jade immediately took her purse to search for hers. The bag only contained that piece of paper, so it was a fast find.

Roma, Italia.

Jade exhaled in relief. She turned to the crumpled pass he demonstratively displayed.

Paris, France.

“This literally can't happen.” Jade looked around, amused now. They were near the end of the plane, the last occupied seats in a sea of empty ones. “How did we both pass the same checkpoints, different flights?”

“It appears fate wants us together,” the man wasn't worried. He peeked on the aisle, needing under a second to count, “I think there are maybe eight other people on this flight. And none of them are close enough to have a conversation. We're lucky,” he winked.

“Wait, we need to tell someone!” As she said the words, Jade realized she didn't remember ever talking to a flight attendant. Who greeted her in the airplane's door? There were supposed to be there, two or three, still she darted through the metallic frame without seeing any uniforms.

And she had passed rows full of people, swarming with the largest cases the airline still considered hand luggage.

“Where did they go?” Jade asked out loud. “All the passengers?”

She inched out of her seat to count for herself. There was no trick: three pairs of sunglasses on identical short haircuts, two bald heads, one blowout, a headscarf, a cap, spread out evenly. Not a profitable transoceanic trip.

“Did you see any flight attendants?” Jade asked.

He took a second before answering, “Not since the emergency instructions.”

Another thing she couldn't remember. He had taken his seat, and now they were in the air, the sun hurting her eyes with sharp rays rejected by the fuselage.

Right on cue, a tall flight attendant revealed herself from behind the cabin's velvet curtain, a military statue in royal blue fixed at the end of the aisle. Jade leaned closer to her Watson, her concerns diluting in chamomile. “Let's just ask her and clear out our misunderstanding?”

“What, and not solve the mystery ourselves?”

Jade laughed, encouraged. “Well, how are we going to do that?”

“There are clues everywhere. A conversation in Italian, hearing the captain over the speakers in a French accent…”

Despite the amused tone, the man was tired, his eyes matte, skin sallow for a man in his mid-twenties. “I think we can agree we both want to know, not just to win,” he showed his perfect teeth again, immediately outweighing all the minor flaws Jade found on him.

“I know another thing we both want,” she made sure she added two sugar cubes to her insinuating tone. “But you need to get closer.”

The man looked down in the middle seat as if it was the only thing that kept him safe. Faced with unexpected hesitation, Jade got distracted by how the flight attendant was still blocked at the end of the aisle, as if waiting for instructions. Like a mannequin that scares the absorbed in their phones when they pass its display window.

Jade's skin should've been covered in goosebumps. The lack of fear inside of her made her aware she should be more scared.

Without looking, she knew they were the only two passengers left.

“Where am I?”

Something touched her left hand, warm, and she could feel the sheet against her palm, stingy tubes hindering fingers that caressed her skin. She knew it was him, even while seeing his profile in the aisle seat, not having moved his hands from the armrests.

Down on her lap, her arms were hidden by the pineapple pattern that denied any mourning purpose to her long-sleeved dress. Out of the wide seams, thin pale palms laid lonely, despite her sensation. Why did she wear a thin golden band that had a date engraved on the inside? She knew the other ring too: wider, thicker, matching hers, only a date for decoration, her etched handwriting touching his skin. How it looked on his hand as he took hers for their first dance.

Jade knew she was in a hospital bed before his words confirmed it.

“You're in a coma.”

Because she didn't say anything, forcing herself to remember, he added, “It's how we visit you.”

The kids. Jade remembered having and loving her children, but could not remember their names, how they looked, who they were. The why. What about them made her heart so certain? She couldn't remember how many, or what their lives were, their memory muted like a scar one got while doing what they loved.

“I don't remember our kids,” she confessed, his hand heavier on hers now. Maybe he had gotten closer, even if she didn't see or feel any other movement.

“When they wake your mind up, it's a lot to take in at once. A safe place is suggested to you, based on who's visiting. It's a gradual process, to make you aware enough of your condition for a visit.”

Even protocol statements sounded soothing, said in his voice. She used to mock his eternal monotone, launching into impromptu sermons when passionate. It surprised Jade how little it mattered to her, the specifics of his hobbies. Probably math related. He liked numbers, it was why only their wedding date was on their rings.

“Memories of the people who are not present get tuned out. When you're alone with other family members, you don't remember me.”

“They were here recently, even brought the little ones. They filled the room,” she remembered. Her hands were old, not the ones before her, but the ones she remembered. Spread fingers that were shaking, bony, nails dry. Her falling on the kitchen tiles, dragging the cactus tablecloth over her. His voice down the stairs, calling her name.

“Yes,” he sounded better now, his hand maximizing their contact as if to store it. What was his name? How did she call him?

“Usually trained professionals handle your preparation, visitors come in when you're up to speed,” he explained in a rehearsed cadence, and she imagined him with a dark short beard, like the one he had worn most of his married life. It made him look older, even before threaded white. “But I prefer to do it myself, we get more time together. The memory of how we met is activated, I start talking and I… let you lead the way. It triggers the rest.”

A pause let Jade examine the crater lying where curiosity once lived.

“But we were both heading to Rome,” she remembered. The day they'd met, jilted tears delayed her noticing the fidgety man trying to fit in the too small economy seat. “Why Paris?” Because of their honeymoon of long nights, recreating his almost career-ending work trip to Rome. Jade had a way of demanding his time.

“I give you clues so that it's not all sudden. You love mysteries,” he said as if talking to her on their couch, watching TV. What other shows did they like? Gardening, she saw the multicolored parterres checkering her backyard. Hours of online research buried with every bud.

“You always catch on fast,” he sounded proud. Jade could hear him smiling in an older body than the one by her right, making her fall in love again. “Since you represent me as a hologram, the empty seat is useful.”

He joked, “Once, I sat next to you, and you wasted no time grabbing… me. Your fastest detective work to date.”

He teased her further, “You always try to get me into the bathroom.”

Like the day they'd met. He refused, tempted but afraid of being caught, inviting her for drinks at his hotel instead. Despite her thighs demanding instant gratification, fused together like flaming furnaces, Jade accepted to wait for a few more hours.

“Hey, I was on the rebound,” she smiled. It had felt like the end of the world then, to be left with an empty seat next to her, betraying she had bought two tickets. “I was a mess.”

“Yeah,” he didn't deny it.

The realization hit Jade, “You've been doing this for a long time.”

No answer, and she knew she had said it before. The silence made her skin want to transfer her peace to his palm. “It's why they were all here.”

Jade knew, “You need to let me go.”

His grip tightened a few times, as if pulsing.

“I will.”

His image next to her stood as if paused from a movie.

“I'm not scared,” Jade assured him without turning her head, “I’m ready.”

“I know,” he clutched her hand, a faint shadow of how he used to do whenever their hands were sharing an armrest, their rings touching in a golden infinity sign. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Jade closed her eyes, understanding, “I'm not in a hurry, either. Whenever you're ready.”