I looked up at him in silence, tears streaming down my face.

Five years with him had amounted to nothing but blame, infidelity, and the label of "disgusting."

All those times I had compromised, he had forgotten every single one.

That day, when the flying went wrong, I was jolted awake from my sleep.

Stumbling towards the cockpit, I saw Lydia sitting beside him.

I still clung to the hope that he might offer me an explanation.

But what I got instead was him, in front of everyone, placing the entire blame on me.

He made everyone believe it was my fault as the navigator—my lack of focus, my misreading of the flight path, my stubborn arguments with him—that caused the plane to go down.

Meanwhile, the real culprit hid behind him, only to be praised publicly. "Thanks to Lydia, who assisted me in adjusting the plane back on course, the outcome could have been much worse," he said.

In an instant, I became the villain everyone wanted to punish. Lydia, on the other hand, rode on Dalton's praise and was fast-tracked to a permanent position with our airline.

Dalton's grip on me softened as he noticed my tears. He bit his lip, glanced at my eyes, and his tone finally softened. "You're in a high enough position at Coroala Airlines that taking this responsibility won't affect you much. Lydia's just started her internship, and if we blame her entirely, she's done for in this industry."

Dalton, unusually patient, continued, "They say you're being dismissed, but once the fuss dies down, they'll likely reinstate you."

"But that video isn't good for any of us—neither for you, nor for me, nor for Lydia. Please, just delete it."

Just then, his phone rang. Dalton's expression softened a bit as he saw the caller ID. "I've got to go. Think it over yourself."

He grabbed his phone off the couch, slammed the door behind him, and left.

I stared at his retreating figure for a long time, finally letting out a self-deprecating smile.

He didn't see the message from Lydia on my phone: [Lisa, wasn't I right? To Dalton, I will always be the most important.]

It was a deliberate jab at me. Lydia had filmed and sent me the video of them in the cockpit.

They were celebrating at a hotel tonight.

Dalton had stopped talking because their date was about to begin.

Looking at the message, I felt utterly drained.

Lydia had won.

Strangely, I didn't feel upset.

Once I decided to let go of him, everything about him ceased to affect me.

On the third day after my dismissal, I was summoned back to the company.

Contrary to my expectations of a stern reprimand, President Jack Barton greeted me with unexpected warmth.

When I checked my phone, I noticed that the video from the group chat had been deleted. The company's confidentiality protocols were tight, and the content hadn't leaked. Instead, the interview footage from the day of the accident had gone viral.

After a flood of online abuse, someone sharp-eyed pointed out that I, along with Dalton, were the same pilots who had heroically rescued two people five years ago at 30 thousand feet. Public opinion swung back and forth, but the company chose to steer clear of the controversy, hoping to defuse the situation.

Some people criticized me for losing my integrity and suggested I resign if I couldn't handle the pressure rather than stay and cause harm.

As Jack relayed these comments, I kept my head down, unable to meet his gaze.

His expression grew serious as he said, "I understand you're feeling wronged. I trust your skills and know you wouldn't make such a basic mistake. However, the company's image is crucial, so I hope you can overlook some of this."

To make amends, Jack offered me enticing incentives: a doubled year-end bonus and a chance for annual awards. But I declined them all.

Jack looked taken aback, frowning as he asked, "So what do you want?"

"I want to transfer out of Coroala Airlines," I said. "I need a letter of recommendation and an explanation from you. I'm looking to apply for a position with National Airlines."

"Wait, you want to leave?!" Jack's eyes widened in shock. "You're giving up on Dalton?"

Before I could finish, Jack's expression shifted awkwardly.

The video from yesterday had hit too close to home—Dalton's infidelity was now undeniable.

Given our good relationship, Jack didn't press the issue further.

Securing a position with National Airlines would be a significant career boost for me, and it would also benefit him to have such connections.

Without much hesitation, Jack agreed to facilitate my transfer and only requested that I handle one thing—my issues with Dalton.

"I'll take care of it," I assured him.

I'd spent a long time thinking it over last night. My future with Dalton was no longer viable.

Given the company's structure, it wasn't practical for me to take Dalton and Lydia down single-handedly.

Plus, Dalton's mother, who had always been kind to me and suffered from heart disease, wouldn't be able to handle the disgrace of her once-perfect son.

So, leaving was the best option.

I needed to distance myself and seek better opportunities elsewhere. With that in mind, I sent Dalton a message: [We're done.]

I didn't wait for a reply. Just as I was about to call him, another message popped up. Lydia had sent a photo of their date from yesterday.

They were enjoying drinks at a rooftop garden, their smiles radiant. Her social media update read: [Promises made since childhood, we've fulfilled them! We'll shine brilliantly above the clouds!]

I didn't say anything; I just gave the post a silent like.

Within a minute, Dalton's call came through.

"Lydia's post was just a joke. I told her to take it down," he said, his tone unusually conciliatory.

Miraculously, Dalton was trying to explain himself. His voice softened. "Since you've deleted the video, why don't we just reconcile?"

Dalton had no idea that I hadn't deleted the video. Jack had brought in tech specialists to handle that to prevent any further leaks. But I saw no need to clarify.

I simply replied, "Did you see the message?"

"No, what's up?"

"Take a look."

With that, I ended the call, blocking his number and social media accounts.

I didn't need to imagine Dalton's reaction when he saw the message. He was probably furious.

But that was no longer my concern.

He needed to feel the pain he'd caused.

After all, he was the one who started all this mess. Why should I be the only one suffering?