As they edged down the aisle, Elise noticed he was assigned a tight middle seat between her and her daughter. He stared at it with a guarded resignation, clearly trying not to be a burden. She felt a tug of sympathy, stronger than she expected for a man she’d only just met.
“Take my aisle seat. I can sit in the middle, next to my daughter,” she said, quietly but firmly. She gestured toward the window, already stepping aside. The veteran hesitated, searching her face as though asking whether she truly meant it. Elise nodded, and his shoulders eased with a relief that seemed almost reluctant to show itself.