Chapter 1

The summer after my younger brother Ryan finished his college entrance exams, I bought business-class tickets for the whole family to vacation in Hawaii.

The captain of our flight happened to be my husband, Ethan.

Halfway through the flight, my father suddenly had a heart attack. I immediately called for a flight attendant.

Ten minutes later, the attendant came back and said, "I'm sorry, but the only AED on board is currently being used by another passenger. Please wait a little longer."

I clenched my fists and tried to calm my mother and Ryan.

Twenty minutes later, my father's eyes were tightly shut. My voice was hoarse when I asked again, "Is that other passenger still using it? My father has had heart disease for over ten years. Ethan is my husband and the captain of this flight. Can you please tell him and ask whether we can make an emergency landing at the nearest airport?"

The flight attendant gave me the same answer. "I'm sorry. The captain has asked you to wait a little longer."

We waited until the layover. I took my family off the plane and rushed my father to the nearest hospital.

At two in the morning, I was standing outside the ICU when I saw an Instagram post from Chloe, Ethan's childhood friend.

Her entire family was gathered around an AED. The caption read:

[Thank you, Ethan! First time experiencing VIP treatment. You knew my mom has a heart condition and specially kept the AED with us. Good thing we didn't need it.]

[Safe flight, safely arrived in Hawaii.]

Ethan commented below:

[Have fun.]

My phone screen went black. I saw my own exhausted reflection and the dark circles under my eyes, and suddenly I laughed.

Seven years of marriage, and in his eyes, my father's life was worth less than Chloe's good mood.

I packed up the screenshots and documents I had gathered and sent them to the airline's safety department and the FAA complaint inbox. Then I sent Ethan a divorce agreement.

...

At two in the morning, the lights outside the emergency room finally went out.

The doctor removed his mask, his face tired.

"We've saved him for now, but his heart is under too much strain. He needs to be monitored in intensive care."

"If you had arrived another half hour later, the result would have been very hard to predict."

My mother collapsed into a chair, covering her face as her shoulders shook.

I held onto the wall. I felt as if I had been dragged out of water, my back soaked in cold sweat.

Just then, Ethan called.

I stared at the screen for two seconds before answering.

It was quiet on his end. I could faintly hear waves in the background, but his tone was as calm as if nothing had happened.

"How's your dad?"

I gave a short laugh. "Now you remember to ask?"

Ethan frowned. "Olivia, I'm busy. I can't keep staring at your side of things. Don't start with that sarcastic tone the second I call."

My voice shook. "Ethan, when you let Chloe's mother keep the AED, did you ever think about my father fighting for his life?"

There was half a second of silence. Then his voice turned cold. "You saw her Instagram post?"

He sounded impatient. "Mrs. Bennett has a heart condition too. What is wrong with taking precautions? Things are complicated on a plane. I have to consider the whole situation, not just revolve around your family."

My chest tightened.

But he continued. "Stop being so emotional. Your father was saved, wasn't he?"

I closed my eyes. My eyes burned.

So in his mind, as long as my father had not died, it did not count.

I took a deep breath and forced my voice steady.

"If Chloe's mother were the one lying in the emergency room today, would you have made her wait too?"

His voice sharpened. "Can you stop dragging Chloe into everything?"

"There's nothing between us. You've been hung up on this for years. Don't you think that's ridiculous?"

I almost laughed from anger.

"Ethan, my father almost died."

Ethan grew irritated too, his patience thinning.

"Then what do you want from me? A captain's decision is not something a layperson gets to criticize."

"Olivia, I'm exhausted. I don't have time to deal with you losing your mind in the middle of the night."

Then he hung up.

Near dawn, I went to the billing desk to pay the hospital deposit.

The system said the balance was insufficient. I froze, then tried the supplementary credit card Ethan had given me.

It failed too.

The next second, a text message popped up: Your supplementary card has been unlinked.

Then came Ethan's message.

"I transferred the money out of your card. You're emotionally unstable right now. Don't spend recklessly. We'll talk later."

I stared at that line, cold all over.

I stood there for a long time, motionless, until my phone rang.

The caller ID showed my divorce lawyer's name.

I moved my stiff fingers and answered.