It was a rainy Sunday afternoon when he broke up with Theresa.
He'd been living in a dream in the past few months, except that he knew well enough that dreams didn't last. Better to end it sooner rather than later, he thought; and so he did.
"It's not you, it's me," he stuttered, stumbling upon every word. "I'm sorry."
With that he simply bolted away, all the while fearing – and yet half-hoping – that she would follow him. She didn't though, and he spent the rest of the evening sitting alone in his dreary attic.
When he showed up at work the next morning he looked so miserable that Douglas didn't dare to tease him about it. Carolyn shared a worried look with the first officer, then sent Arthur to make a cup of extra-strong coffee.
xxx
Theresa tried to call him time and time again, but he never answered.
He got a job with his van on Friday, ended up with a flat tyre in the middle of nowhere. Douglas gracefully came to his rescue, didn't even mention the fact that Martin now owed him a colossal favour.
They ended up in a pub after that, and he managed to get drunk on a single pint of beer.
Douglas drove him back home, listened to his whining with uncharacteristic patience. He made sure that Martin was safely tucked in bed before finally leaving him alone.
xxx
They played the travelling lemon on their next flight, he was pretty sure that the others had previously agreed to let him win.
Not that he actually cared about the game. He remembered the afternoon he and Theresa had spent at the botanic garden; she'd pointed out how blue the sky was that day, and surprised him with a kiss just as they were standing before the lemon tree.
He hated lemons, Martin decided with a sigh.
Then Arthur accidentally poured the coffee all over himself, and the travelling lemon was eventually forgotten.
xxx
He'd never been late for work before, but this morning he simply couldn't get himself out of bed.
When Carolyn called to check on him he wearily told her he wasn't fit to fly today, which wasn't far from the truth. She sounded more worried about him than MJN Air for once, and he despised himself for that.
He dozed off at some point during the day, and he fancied he dreamt of Theresa. Only it wasn't a dream, he realized as she perched on the edge of the bed and brushed a lock of hair from his brow.
"You're an idiot, Martin," she said with conviction, her features graced with a warm smile.
"How come you're here?" that was all he managed to say, and her smile widened even further.
"Always useful to have a dragon around to rescue you from yourself."
Her lips were against his own before he could process what she'd just said. She smelled of citrus, his mind idly registered as he relaxed into her embrace.