They talked about engines and fuel ratios and airflow dynamics, but they also talked about other things. Emma's school, the town, the life Jake had built here. Emma warmed up to her slowly. At first the girl barely said a word hovering near her father like a shadow, but Victoria didn't push. She just showed up consistent and calm until one day Emma asked her if she wanted to see the model plane she was building.
Victoria said yes and Emma led her to a workbench in the corner where a balsa wood glider sat half-finished. It was meticulous work, the kind of care that only came from watching someone who knew what they were doing. Your dad teach you this? Victoria asked. Emma nodded, her hands moving carefully over the wing.
Victoria watched her work and something unfamiliar settled in her chest. It felt like belonging. Then everything fell apart. It happened on a Thursday afternoon. Jake was working on a charter jet that had come in for routine maintenance, something simple that should have taken an hour.
Victoria was in town picking up lunch when she got the call. The voice on the other end was frantic, barely coherent. There'd been an accident. An engine mount had failed. Jake was trapped under 2,000 lb of metal.
Victoria drove to the airfield faster than she'd ever driven in her life. When she got there, the paramedics were already pulling Jake out from under the jet. His leg was twisted at an angle that made Victoria's stomach turn. His face was gray, slick with sweat. Emma was standing near the hangar, frozen, her eyes locked on her father.
Victoria ran to her and pulled her close, turning her away from the sight. They airlifted Jake to Denver. Victoria followed in her car with Emma beside her, silent and shaking. The girl didn't cry. She just stared out the window, her hands clenched in her lap.
Victoria wanted to say something comforting, but she didn't know how. She wasn't good at this. She was good at contracts and negotiations and making people do what she needed them to do. She wasn't good at holding a terrified child together while her father fought to stay alive. Jake survived the surgery, but the damage was severe.
His right leg was held together with pins and rods, and the doctor said he'd need months of physical therapy before he could walk without a crutch. He'd never work under a plane again. When Victoria finally saw him in the hospital room, he looked smaller than she remembered, diminished by the tubes and monitors. His eyes were hollow. "I'm done," Jake said.
His voice was flat, empty. "I can't do this anymore." Victoria sat down in the chair beside his bed. "You'll heal," she said. "You'll get back to it."
Jake shook his head. "Even if I do, I can't pay for this. The surgery, the rehab, the bills. I don't have insurance that covers this. I'm going to lose everything."
Victoria felt something crack open inside her. She looked at Jake, this man who'd given up everything for his daughter, who'd walked away from a life of success because love mattered more. And now, he was going to lose even this small, quiet life he'd built. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.