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The storm raged outside. I'd just settled into my first-class seat when a flight attendant approached, her expression apologetic. "Ms. Sterling, I'm terribly sorry. Due to overbooking and the captain's request, we need you to take the next flight out." My eyes darted to my seat. There, wrapped in my husband Blake Harrison's pilot jacket, sat Chloe Davis, his childhood sweetheart. She was curled up, her face half-buried in the uniform collar. "Ava, I'm so sorry...It's just so stormy, and I'm so scared..." I ignored her, pushing past the flight attendant and heading straight for the cockpit door. Blake emerged from his seat. His gaze was cold, final. "Ava, Chloe's always been timid. She only feels safe when I'm flying the plane. As my wife, you should understand. Let her have the seat." "So you do remember I'm your wife?" I let out a dry laugh. "Three years ago, when my appendix nearly burst and I begged you to fly me home for surgery, what was your excuse?” Blake's frown deepened, his annoyance plain at being challenged in front of so many people. He closed the distance between us, his voice dropping into the cold, condescending register he used on junior staff. "Regulations prohibit transporting an unstable patient. It was a policy call." My gaze shifted past him to Chloe. Her phone screen glowed in her lap, the lock screen showing a brazen selfie taken from inside a cockpit, her cheek pressed against Blake's