Chapter 1

Olivia spent eight years by Ethan's side, watching him work his way up from first officer to captain.

During his busiest year, I quit my job and planned my meals around his flight schedule.

Once, I asked him, "Can you take me up to see the world from ten thousand meters, just once?"

He coldly replied, "That's a workplace, not an amusement park."

I said okay, and never brought it up again.

Until one night, I found a hidden album on his phone.

It contained a silhouette of a woman sitting in his cockpit.

The next morning, I brewed coffee as usual and drank it in silence.

Then I opened my laptop, wrote a resignation letter, and booked a flight to Texas.

Eight years.

I finally decided I wouldn't look up to him anymore, wouldn't track his flight path.

"Why are you up so early today?"

Ethan emerged from the bedroom, pulling his flight bag, his brows slightly furrowed.

I held my mug.

"Couldn't sleep, so I got up for coffee."

He walked to the kitchen island, picked up the other cup of hot milk I'd just poured, and took a sip.

"Did you stay up late again watching those useless shows last night?"

"No."

"Olivia, your sleep schedule is completely off these days."

He checked his watch, his tone laced with his usual instructing manner.

"I've got a Frankfurt run later, four days round trip."

"Okay."

He seemed surprised by my overly calm reaction today.

Usually, when he flew international long-hauls, I'd pack his stomach medicine, melatonin, and neck pillow a day in advance, making sure they were in his flight bag.

I'd also remind him repeatedly to text me when he landed.

Today, I did nothing but sit on the high stool and watch him.

"Where did you put my stomach medicine?" He rummaged through the side pocket of his bag.

"Second drawer under the TV cabinet. Grab it yourself."

His movements paused, and he turned to look at me.

"What's wrong with you today? You can't even walk a few feet?"

"I'm a little tired."

He sighed, walked to the TV cabinet, pulled open the drawer, took out the medicine box, and tucked it into his pocket.

"You're home all day, I don't know what you're tired from."

His phone lit up.

A text message popped up.

The contact name was a little bear emoji.

"Ethan, it's getting cold in Frankfurt today, remember to bring a thick coat."

Ethan picked up his phone, the screen's light illuminating the slight upturn of his lips.

He quickly typed a reply with one hand, not even bothering to zip up his luggage.

"A colleague's message?" I asked, looking at the bear emoji.

He locked the screen and slipped his phone into his pants pocket.

"Yeah, Chloe. She's on this flight too, in the main cabin."

"Isn't she usually a purser on domestic flights?"

"Temporary reassignment. She's helping out with some new recruits."

He answered so naturally, as if he didn't need to think twice for an excuse.

I looked at his tall, straight back, remembering the forty-plus pictures in that hidden album from last night.

"Ethan."

"What is it?" He was changing his shoes.

"Do you remember what day next Wednesday is?"

He didn't stop putting on his shoes.

"Next Wednesday? I have a simulator re-training at work. Why?"

"Never mind."

Next Wednesday was our eighth anniversary.

Eight years ago, on a Wednesday, he got his first officer job offer. He was so excited, he picked me up and spun me around in our tiny apartment.

He said that someday, high above the clouds, he'd pick out the most beautiful ones for me.

He forgot.

"I'm leaving. I'll text you when I land."

He pushed the door open.

"Ethan." I called out to him again.

His hand was on the doorknob, a hint of impatience in his voice.

"Now what? The crew car is waiting downstairs."

"Your flight bag zipper isn't fully closed."

He glanced down, then casually zipped it up.

"Got it. You're acting really strange today."

The door closed.

The house plunged back into silence.

I walked to my computer and clicked 'send' on the resignation letter I'd just finished.

Then I opened the ticketing app and confirmed that one-way ticket to Texas, seven days from now.

Seven days. Enough time for me to erase eight years of my life here.

My phone rang. It was my best friend, Sophia.

"Did you submit your resignation?"

"I did."

"Once you've decided, no backing out. When are you going to tell Ethan?"

"The day I leave."

Sophia was silent for a few seconds on the other end.

"Olivia, eight years of your life, just going to let it go so silently?"

"I don't want it anymore."

I looked at the now cold milk on the kitchen island.

"Sophia, have you ever seen the sunset pictures he takes for other people?"

"What?"

"They're beautiful. Even the light on the wing is so gentle."

I flipped my phone face down on the table.

"Too bad they weren't for me."