Beneath Azure Clouds

Seven years after our divorce, I saw Sean Hughes again during an assignment on the border.
I was a war correspondent. He was one of the expatriates being evacuated.
Seeing my face covered in grime, he instinctively reached out to wipe it clean.
I turned away, avoiding his touch, and gave him a polite nod.
Sean froze, slowly pulling his hand back. A self-mocking smile touched his lips. "Ava," he said, "you still resent me, don't you?"
I was surprised by his assumption, but I kept my tone courteous. "Not at all, Mr. Hughes. You're overthinking it."
My own horizon was too vast to be bothered with the narrow patch of sky he occupied.

1
The hot, humid air, thick with sand, stung my nostrils.
I didn't have time to clean up before boarding the plane, and a fit of coughing left me apologizing awkwardly to the other passengers.
A moist towelette appeared in front of me.
"Here, clean yourself up."
Sean was looking at me, his expression a complicated mix of emotions. "I upgraded your seat. It'll be more comfortable up front."
I thanked him calmly. "Thank you, but there's no need. My colleague is sitting with me."
He hesitated, his eyes flicking to Leo, my cameraman. "What... what are you doing now?"
"I'm a journalist."
Sean's mouth twisted into a sad smile. "You were the star reporter at Momentum News. You never had to get your hands dirty like this..."
"I love my work," I said, my voice gentle but firm. "The plane is about to take off, Mr. Hughes. You should return to your seat."
He suddenly seemed aware of how out of place he was, standing alone in the narrow aisle. He said nothing more, just gave a silent nod and walked away.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Leo leaned in, his face alight with gossip. "Ava, new flame?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You studied journalism and you don't recognize him?"
Seeing his blank look, I prompted him. "Sean Hughes."
Leo's eyes went wide. "That's Sean Hughes?!"
"The whistleblower who exposed the Zenith Group's dirty supply chain?"
I smiled. "The one and only."
Before he made his fortune, Sean became an overnight sensation for exposing corruption in his industry. Everyone thought he'd be blacklisted, but he rode the wave of publicity, started his own company, and was now a leader in the field.
"I remember that story! It was huge! The reporter who covered it became famous overnight, too. Her name was... Diana something?" He scratched his head. "Wait, Momentum News broke that story, and you used to work there. No wonder he knows you. Did you interview him back then?"
I folded the towel the flight attendant had given me. "Of course," I said with a small smile.
"I was in charge of his story."
"That's how we met. It wasn't long before we got married."
Leo's jaw dropped. "Then... what about now?"
"We've been divorced for many years," I said, my tone breezy and unconcerned.
The announcement for takeoff began, and after a moment of weightlessness, the plane broke through the clouds. I rubbed my ears, which were popping from the pressure change.
"But... wait a minute," Leo said after a long silence. "I remember the byline on that story. The reporter's last name was Zhou."
"Diana Zhou," I said, the name feeling foreign on my tongue.
"She was my mentor at Momentum."

2
Most young journalists are full of fire. We worship the seasoned veteransthe ones with razor-sharp prose who can cut to the heart of any story.
At Momentum News, Diana Zhou was the sharpest of them all. She lived up to her name, a force of nature. She had a sleek, short haircut and wore simple, understated clothes, with no trace of makeup or vanity.
I used to call her my master, but she'd scoff and tell me she wasn't some kung fu grandmaster, and to just call her by her name, or mentor.
"Diana," I'd said to her once, my voice hesitant. "That whistleblower... the one who exposed the dirty supply chain... he's trying to start his own business now."
"Mm," she'd replied without looking up from her desk. "Your initial report was excellent. I've edited it for publication tomorrow."
"Could wecould we maybe give him a few follow-up interviews?" I asked quietly.
I expected an outburst, but instead, Diana looked up from her mountain of paperwork, her brow furrowed. "Why?"
"He's... he's been blacklisted by the entire industry. I just think... he could use the publicity. Even a little bit." I took a deep breath. "I know we've already gotten the core story, but... as journalists, we shouldn't just stand by while a good man who did the right thing is ruined."
"I want to help him."
After some persuading, Diana finally agreed.
As I celebrated my small victory, she sighed. "Fine. You can handle the follow-up interviews. I'll publish the main story under my byline."
I thanked her profusely, not caring in the slightest about who got the credit.
At the time, Sean and I weren't together. I was helping him purely out of a journalist's sense of justice. But over the course of those follow-up interviews, we were drawn to each other, and a relationship blossomed naturally.
Sean's story exploded. Everyone was talking about it. The initial hype wasn't about him personally, but my subsequent interviews managed to keep a spotlight on him. It wasn't enough to save him from the industry's backlash, though. He worked day and night, desperate to build something new from the ashes.
The winters in Brookhaven were brutal. I ached for him, working so hard, and he worried about me, chasing stories in the freezing cold. We'd often rush from our respective offices late at night, only to bump into each other halfway.
He'd pull a warm paper bag of roasted chestnuts from his coat, and I'd hand him a steaming cup of coffee. We'd smile, then walk back to our small apartment through the gently falling snow, our footsteps muffled and slow.
Later, when his business took off and he became the new titan of his industry, every news outlet clamored for an interview. He always gave Momentum News the exclusive.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived in Brookhaven. Please collect all your personal belongings..."
I snapped out of my long-lost dream and looked out the window at the familiar city below.
Leo volunteered to get our luggage. I waited for him by the arrival gate, already mentally outlining my next news report.
"Ava Lin?"
A familiar voice pulled me back to reality. I looked up.
"Diana," I said, a sense of understanding dawning on me. "You're here to pick up Sean."
She smiled brightly. "It's late. I came to take him home."
Looking at her, I felt a strange sense of detachment. Diana had grown her hair long, each strand falling in a perfect, glossy wave. Her bright red lipstick and pale green dress made her look delicate and captivating.
Sean emerged before Leo did.
"I just bought some flowers at the airport shop to take home," he said, then his eyes met mine. "Ava... you haven't left yet."
Diana linked her arm through his affectionately. "We were just chatting. Darling, look. Don't you think Ava's changed so much?"
"...She has," he said, his voice strained. "Her hair's so short, and her clothes are so..."
Diana giggled. "See? This is why we were mentor and mentee. She looks exactly like I did back in the day!"
"Diana," I said calmly. "You, on the other hand, haven't changed a bit."
Her smile faltered for a second, then returned, tinged with a sigh. "Ava, you're still holding a grudge against us."
"Not at all," I said, smiling back. "Its just... the thought of being exactly like you makes me sick."
I glanced over at Leo, who was standing nearby, his mouth agape, and nodded. "Let's go."

3
The station's car was parked some distance away. Leo and I, laden with equipment, started walking.
Halfway there, a Bentley pulled up beside us. Diana leaned out from the passenger seat. "Come on, Ava. We'll give you a lift."
I was about to refuse, but seeing Leo struggling under the weight of the bags, I nodded. "Thank you. Just drop us at the next intersection."
The car was filled with the scent of citrus. I wrinkled my nose instinctively.
Diana turned around, her face a mask of apology. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I just put on some perfume. I forgot you hate this scent, don't you?"
Before I could answer, all the windows rolled down. "Let's get some air in here," Sean said, his voice flat.
Diana's smile froze. Her eyes scanned our equipment. "Ava," she asked casually, "Sean tells me you're still working as a journalist?"
She let out a small laugh. "The small-time papers out there aren't like Momentum, you know. You have to hustle for every story, beg for every interview." She pouted, her tone chiding. "Look at you. You should take better care of yourself. You're over thirty, and you look so weathered."
Leo opened his mouth to protest, but a look from me silenced him.
"We have an opening in our PR department," Sean said suddenly.
Diana's face lit up. "That's right! Someone just quit. Ava, you might be a little old to be starting over, but I'm the head of the department. I could save an internship spot for you. What do you think?"
"No, thank you," I said, rubbing my tired temples. "I wouldn't want to take a job from someone younger. I'm quite happy where I am."
Diana just chuckled and didn't press the issue.
"We're here," Sean said quietly. He wouldn't meet my eyes. "If you ever need any help, you can come to us."
"Okay, thank you," I said, treating it as a polite, empty offer.
But as we got out, Diana jumped out of the car and grabbed my arm.
"Ava, I know you blame us, but what's past is past. Don't be so proud. Look at what you've done to yourself, how you've let yourself go."
"Let herself go? Ava is" Leo finally burst out, but I shot him a look that stopped him cold.
I looked calmly at Diana. "Diana," I said, "I remember your old dream. You wanted to be a war correspondent, didn't you?"

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