The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 244

**TITLE: Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 244**

**Chapter 244**

**Gemma’s POV**

My heart races uncontrollably, each beat echoing the relentless worry that Cassian is lost somewhere in the vast, stormy skies. The thought wraps around me like a suffocating shroud, refusing to let go, even for a fleeting moment.

At my side, Adam stands close, his brow furrowed in concentration as he relays the latest updates from the control tower.

“Mrs. Blackwell,” he says, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency, “the report indicates that the storm hit with little warning, creating a situation of severely reduced visibility. Their flight entered a dense cloud formation, and since then, all communication has ceased.”

I grip the railing tightly, feeling the cold metal bite into my palm, my knuckles turning white with the pressure.

“Keep trying… I don’t care if it takes all night. Keep calling that plane. Also, look into the nearest alternate landing points,” I insist, my voice sharper than I intended.

“Absolutely. If they need to divert, we have to be ready for them,” Adam replies, jotting down notes with a quick flick of his pen. He hesitates for a moment, glancing at me with concern.

“Mrs. Blackwell… this might take a while. Would you like me to drive you home first? You could rest—”

I snap my gaze to him, my eyes narrowing. “No. Take me to the control tower.”

**18:30**

The atmosphere in the control tower is electric when we step inside. Screens illuminate the room with a harsh glow, radios crackle with static, and controllers shout terse instructions, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of urgency.

Yet, despite the chaos, there is still no word on their whereabouts.

I don’t interrupt their frantic procedures. Instead, I position myself behind them, arms crossed tightly against my chest, my fingernails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to anchor myself.

This silence is all too familiar… Months ago, I sat in this very spot, convinced that death was mere moments away. I was aboard that flight destined for disaster, and we survived solely because Cassian’s hands remained steady, his voice unwavering in the face of chaos.

That night, he became a hero, a living legend. So why does an icy dread grip my heart now?

“Keep calling.”

My voice cuts through the tension, slicing the air like a knife. All eyes turn to me, and I meet their gazes, allowing no hint of uncertainty to show.

“That plane carries lives… our colleagues, our passengers. You must not stop until you have confirmation…”

I leave the sentence unfinished, clinging to a thread of hope, but my words are enough to shift the energy in the room. The controller straightens, determination written across his face as he presses the button once more.

At first, all we hear is static, a disheartening reminder of the silence we’ve endured. Then, like a beacon breaking through the darkness, a faint whisper emerges, gradually gaining clarity…

“I’m fine. Everyone’s safe.”

A wave of collective relief washes over the tower. My knees nearly buckle beneath me, but I force myself to remain upright, swallowing the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me.

“When will he land?” I manage to ask, striving to keep my tone steady despite the tumult inside.

“Soon…”

I bend to retrieve my bag, relief flooding me. “Good. Then I’ll leave now.”

I pause at the door, my hand tightening around the strap. My heart screams for me to rush to him, but my voice betrays me, sounding flat and resolute. “No.”

**Cassian’s POV**

As the cabin door swings open, a rush of fresh air floods in, carrying with it the cacophony of voices from the terminal. I step out, and passengers surround me, their faces pale with lingering fear, yet their eyes shine with gratitude.

“Thank you, Captain…” one passenger breathes, emotion thick in her voice.

“You saved us,” another whispers, clutching a child’s hand tightly.

“It’s my duty,” I reply, the words feeling hollow.

The truth is, relief has yet to settle in. Instead, I feel the storm’s echo within me, the weight of every decision made in the air, and the exhaustion from hours of holding everything together.

I push open the lounge door, and the sound of relief crashes over me like a tidal wave.

All around me, families cling to one another, calling out to their loved ones—some cry, others laugh through tears, each reunion a testament to survival.

The plane has landed safely, and everyone is well.

Yet, my chest tightens unexpectedly. Perhaps it’s the haunting knowledge of what it means to wait for someone, to fear the worst while desperately hoping for the best.

I blink rapidly, but the sting of unshed tears lingers in my eyes.

“Excuse me…”

“Gemma!!”

My steps falter at the sound of my name, but I refuse to look back. I keep moving, pretending I didn’t hear him.

“GEMMA!”

This time, the call is louder, closer, but I press forward, unwilling to confront the flood of emotions swirling within me. Then, a word I haven’t heard in what feels like an eternity pierces through the chaos, freezing me in place.

“Honey!”

My heart lurches violently, and slowly, I turn, scanning the crowd.

There he is. Cassian. Still in his flight attire, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled from hours of strain. His eyes, filled with an intensity that sends a thrill through me, are fixed solely on me as he weaves through the throng, shouldering past anyone who dares to stand in his way.

In that moment, the noise of the terminal fades into a distant hum. All I can hear is the rush of my pulse in my ears, drowning out everything else.

But when he reaches me, he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly against him, as if afraid I might vanish if he lets go.

I stand frozen in his embrace, the warmth of him enveloping me, teasing my senses, and in that moment, time itself seems to stand still.