Chapter 3

Over the next two days, I systematically cleaned out my life.

The Monstera plant in the living room was mine; I gave it to the elderly neighbor next door.

The rocking chair on the balcony was my choice; I called a second-hand recycler to take it away.

Ethan seemed oblivious to the missing items in the house.

He just thought I was pleasantly quiet these days.

"Why couldn't you always be like this?"

On Friday morning, he sat at the dining table, eating the instant dumplings I'd haphazardly cooked.

"Chloe's birthday is tonight. A few of the crew are getting together for dinner. You should come with me."

My hand stopped wiping the table.

"What would I go for?"

"Didn't you always complain that I never brought you to meet my colleagues? Well, everyone's going tonight, you can meet them."

His tone was like an offering.

I used to beg him to let me be part of his world.

He'd say, "They're all pilots, you wouldn't understand what they're talking about. You'd just be bored."

Now he was actively asking me to go, all because it was Chloe's birthday.

"Okay," I agreed.

I wanted to see for myself what place Chloe held in his colleagues' eyes.

At eight that evening, we arrived at the Japanese restaurant.

The private room door opened, and six or seven people were already seated.

Chloe sat at the head of the table, wearing a white French-style maxi dress, with a familiar necklace around her neck.

It was the item from the gift box I'd seen on the coffee table the day before yesterday.

"Ethan, Olivia's here!"

Chloe stood up, smiling, and came to greet us.

"Nice to meet you, Olivia! Ethan talks about you all the time. So glad to finally meet you today."

She reached out, intending to take my hand warmly.

I avoided her touch.

"Happy birthday," I said flatly.

The atmosphere in the room went awkward for a moment.

Ethan pulled me to a seat and whispered a warning, "Don't you dare give me any attitude today."

During dinner, everyone talked about flight-related things.

Which routes had rough turbulence, or which control towers had the most difficult controllers.

I truly didn't understand, nor did I care to listen.

"Speaking of which, Ethan's landings are truly flawless."

A first officer laughed, raising his glass.

"Chloe knows best. Whenever Ethan's flying, Chloe in the main cabin doesn't even spill her coffee."

Chloe chuckled, covering her mouth.

"That's right, Ethan's skills are famous throughout the company. Last time we flew to Narita and hit a thunderstorm, my legs were like jelly, but Ethan texted me from the cockpit saying, 'I got this. Don't worry,' and I instantly felt at ease."

Everyone at the table started teasing them.

Ethan laughed along, not refuting, his gaze even carrying a hint of indulgence.

I lowered my head and took a sip of tea; it was already cold and somewhat bitter.

Thunderstorm.

I remembered that Narita flight.

It was delayed by five hours due to weather. I was so anxious at home that I couldn't sleep, and I called him over a dozen times, but he never picked up.

Later, he texted back, "Busy with work, don't make things difficult."

Turns out, he was busy comforting Chloe in the cabin.

"Olivia, don't you usually look after Ethan?"

Chloe suddenly turned the conversation to me.

"Ethan has a sensitive stomach. Yesterday, I saw him skip breakfast and fly the simulator, it really made us colleagues worried."

Her tone carried undisguised blame.

The table fell silent, everyone looking at me.

"He's an adult. He knows how to order takeout," I said, putting down my teacup.

Chloe froze, her eyes instantly reddening.

"Olivia, I didn't mean anything by it. I was just worried about Ethan..."

"Olivia, have you had enough?"

Ethan's face was ashen.

"Everyone's here to have a good time, why do you have to be so passive-aggressive and make a scene?"

"Did I say anything to make a scene?" I looked at him calmly.

"Chloe was kindly reminding you to care about me, and that's your attitude!"

"Ethan." I stood up, grabbing my bag.

"Since someone else cares so much about your stomach, you won't need me to worry about it anymore."

"Olivia! You dare walk out that door!"

He roared behind me.

I pushed open the restaurant door without a moment's hesitation.

The cold air in the hallway hit my face, and I took a deep breath of the outside air.

Eight years. I finally didn't have to crush myself for his sake anymore.

Back home, I packed up the rest of my books into boxes.

Just waiting for next Wednesday.