Adrian finally managed to get service once they deplaned.
Seventeen missed calls from Dante.
Twelve texts, escalating from "Where are you?" to "Are you okay?" to "Please just tell me you're alive."
His stomach clenched with guilt.
He called immediately.
Dante answered before the first ring finished.
"Where the hell are you? Your flight landed an hour ago and you're not here and you're not answering and I thought—"
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. We had mechanical issues, had to switch planes. I just got service back."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. But I missed my connection. I'm stuck in Dallas for another four hours."
Silence on the other end.
Then: "Four hours."
"Yeah. I'm sorry. I know you took off work to pick me up and—"
"I don't care about work. I just—" Dante's voice cracked. "I thought something happened to you."
"I'm okay. Just delayed."
"When's your new arrival time?"
"Not until midnight now."
"I'll be there."
"Dante, you don't have to wait that long—"
