Instead, I breathed in, long and slow.

“You know what?” I said, my voice sweet and calm. “Maybe you’re right. Fate has a funny way of working.”

I glanced at Jolene from the rear-view mirror. She looked frozen, unsure where to look.

I turned the car around.

“Wait, you’re not going to try to get on the flight? I’m sure the airport will…” Darlene said, her voice trailing off.

“No,” I said, calm and clear. “You go ahead. We’ll figure something out.”

We could have doubled back to the terminal. Found a kiosk. Maybe even get the ticket reprinted. But I knew we’d miss check-in by the time we got back. And honestly?

I didn’t want Ava to remember her first trip through tears.

Ava sniffled in the backseat. I reached back and held her hand.

“I’m going to take the car back to the rental place,” I said. “You and Jolene can take another one.”

“But… you already rented this one!” Darlene exclaimed.

“In my name,” I continued. “I don’t want any liabilities.”

“Typical,” Darlene muttered under her breath.

“Hey, bug,” I said to Ava. “Want to get some pancakes later? Want to go on a secret adventure with Mom?”

“Can I get the dinosaur ones?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

“You bet, baby. Ronda at the diner will be so happy to see you!”

My daughter beamed at me.

And just like that, we made a new plan.

The next few days were magic. Not the kind of magic that comes from airport gates or sun-drenched beaches. A quieter kind. Something stitched together with syrupy fingers and belly laughs.

We had pancakes every morning. Dinosaur-shaped for Ava, chocolate chip for me. We visited the aquarium and stood silently in front of the jellyfish tank, her little hand curled into mine.

At home, we turned the living room into a sleepover den, blankets on the floor, popcorn in a bowl big enough for Ava’s toys to swim in, and glow-in-the-dark stars that we stuck to the ceiling with gummy tack.

She painted my nails (and fingers) five different colors and insisted on glitter. I let her. Even when I caught the shimmer on my pillowcase days later, I smiled instead of wiping it away.

We were happy.

That’s what Darlene never understood. You can’t sabotage something this rooted in love. All she did was remind me how strong we were.

I didn’t tell Nolan right away. I let him think we’d made it. Let him breathe.

But when he finally texted us from his work trip… something changed.

“How was the flight, love? Did Ava love it?! Send pics of Ava’s first time on a plane! Love you. Both.”

I sent back a selfie of Ava and me in fluffy matching robes, faces covered in sparkly sticker stars.

“Didn’t make it, Nolan. Ask your mom why. We miss you.”

The phone rang five minutes later.

“What happened?” his voice cracked, tight and restrained.

I told him everything. The open window. The ticket. The smile.

Silence.

“She did this on purpose,” he said eventually. “I’m so sorry, Willa. I’m booking a return flight—”

“Nolan, no,” I breathed in slowly. “Let her have her trip. Ava and I already got what we needed.”

He didn’t like it. But he understood.

“We’ll do our own trip,” he said. “Just us… I promise.”

And that? That promise was enough.

But karma wasn’t finished with her yet.

Two days after their flight, Jolene called me, breathless.

“You will not believe this,” she said. “Mom… fell.”

She launched into it like she couldn’t say it fast enough. Darlene had been strutting through a local artisan market, silk scarf around her neck, oversized sunglasses perched on her head, when she stepped on a wet tile outside a spice shop.

They hadn’t even made it to the Canary Islands yet, all of this had happened during a layover.