A business trip took an unexpected turn when our plane ran into disaster. While everyone else was penning their last words, I, an orphan with nothing to lose, decided to have a little fun with my miserly boss.

“Boss, let’s keep this short—I like you.”

“I really, really like you.”

“Boss, this is a final goodbye.”

Just when all hope seemed lost, the captain pulled off a miracle with his years of experience, saving us from the brink of catastrophe.

By the time we landed safely, I was still in a daze until I saw my boss, eyes bloodshot, storming toward me, flanked by a wall of black-suited bodyguards.

The cabin was in utter chaos—screams, cries, and wails filled the air.

I sat there like an outsider, expressionless, unmoved.

But no one noticed my hands were gripping my pants so tightly that the skin on my pale fingers had been rubbed raw.

Some were writing farewell letters while others were typing away on their phones.

It was then that I remembered something.

I hurriedly pulled out my phone—my stingy boss had insisted on giving me a satellite version so he could always track me down.

My breathing grew a little unsteady, but as I thought about the past years of my life, I realized there was nothing and no one worth holding onto.

No family, no friends, only endless work.

A faint smile slowly curled at my lips.

I found the chat with my boss.

Just as I was about to type something, the plane lurched violently.

If it weren’t for the seatbelt, I might have been thrown out of my seat.

Luggage flew in every direction, one piece slamming into me.

Pain exploded through my body, and I felt warmth spreading across my face.

Blood covered my hands when I reached up to touch it.

Even as calm as I had been, fear finally crept in.

Silent tears slipped down my cheeks.

Clutching my phone tightly, I continued typing, now with a sense of urgency.

"Boss, boss, I'll keep it short—I like you."

Blood smeared across the screen.

It dripped from my face, blurring my vision.

I wiped at my eyes haphazardly, smearing more blood in the process, then pressed on.

"I really, really like you."

I was moved by my own little joke.

A quiet sob turned into full-blown weeping, and before I knew it, I was crying as hysterically as everyone else.

Kian Homer was a terrible boss—strict, expressionless, and relentlessly demanding.

But he was also meticulous, exceptionally capable, incredibly intelligent, and undeniably handsome, with an almost pathological need for cleanliness.

However, he was generous enough.

As his assistant, my annual salary had already hit two hundred thousand dollars.

But I was exhausted, completely drained.

I was practically on call 24/7, with no personal life and not a single friend.

I sobbed as I reflected on the first half of my life.

The turbulence grew even worse, and just as I sent out my final message—"Boss, this is a final goodbye."—a flight attendant was hurled straight at me.

My phone flew from my hands as I caught her.

I held onto her tightly to prevent her from getting hurt again.

I thought for sure I was going to die.

But against all odds, the captain managed to pull off a miracle.

By the time the plane landed, I was still clutching the unconscious flight attendant, my eyes shut tight and teeth clenched.

Somehow, holding onto another person made the thought of dying feel a little less lonely.

Around me, people were sobbing and cheering in waves.

When I finally opened my eyes and looked out the window, the pitch-black night was ablaze with lights.

Fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars surrounded the plane.

My entire body ached, and it took nearly half an hour before anyone even got to me.

First, the medical team took the flight attendant from my arms.

I only felt relieved when I saw the doctors securing her neck—at least she hadn't been crushed to death.

When someone finally reached out to help me up, I realized I could still stand.

Nothing felt broken.

As soon as I stepped off the plane, I was surrounded by people.

A staff member supported me as I was led toward the ambulance.

Then, as if pulled by some invisible force, my gaze shifted.

In the distance, a figure stood among a cluster of black-suited bodyguards.

Kian, my infamously stingy boss was scanning the crowd anxiously, his eyes darting in every direction.

The moment our eyes met, everything around me seemed to freeze.

Even from this far away, I could see his expression clearly, and for the first time, I was stunned by his state.

His eyes were bloodshot, his usual immaculate three-piece suit nowhere in sight.

Instead, he was wearing sleepwear, without shoes.

His pale feet stood directly on the dusty, grimy airport tarmac.

The sight made my eye twitch.

My boss, the Kian Homer, who was obsessed with cleanliness, standing on this filthy ground without even putting on shoes?

How was he even enduring it?

The moment he saw me, it was as if something came back to life in his dead, red-rimmed eyes.

Then, in a blur, he ran toward me.

His security team rushed to keep up, but in the chaos of the crowd, hardly anyone seemed to notice.

Before I could react, I was crushed into his ice-cold embrace.

My heartbeat, steady even during the near-death experience on the plane, suddenly went wild.

I had survived a plane crash, but at this moment, I felt like I might actually drop dead.

And then, wrapped in his freezing arms, I blacked out.

…

When I woke again, everything around me was stark white.

An IV was hooked up to my hand.

A nurse, noticing I was awake, quickly left to call the doctor.

My head looked like it had been wrapped up like a mummy straight out of an ancient tomb.

As the memories started trickling back, my body stiffened.

No!

I confessed to my boss.

And then… he came running without even putting on shoes.

Did that mean… he liked me?

No.

That couldn’t be right.

If he liked me, wouldn’t he have spoiled me? Given me special treatment? Maybe a raise or at least a few days off?

Just as I was spiraling in confusion, the door burst open.

Speak of the devil.

Kian stepped inside, his expression cold and unreadable, followed by the doctor.

He didn’t say a word, just stood stiffly to the side, watching as the doctor checked me over.

Suddenly, I felt incredibly self-conscious.

I didn’t dare look directly at him.

The doctor finished the check-up and assured me there were no major issues—just multiple soft tissue contusions and some swelling on my head.

Oh, and I had seven stitches, so I needed to be careful.

I nodded weakly, feeling as delicate as a tragic heroine from a classic novel.

Once the medical staff left, Kian still didn’t speak.

He just stood there, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

His gaze made my skin prickle.

I wasn’t tired anymore.

“Um, Boss, does this count as a work injury?”

“No.”

His reply was cold and distant.

My mood plummeted.

A mix of grievance and bitterness spread in my heart.

“Oh… well, good thing I have insurance. Anyway, about the message I sent earlier—I was just joking.”

Kian’s expression finally changed.

His sharp eyes locked onto mine. “Joking?”

“Yeah. Just a joke. That way, you’ll always remember your loyal assistant. Haha…”

My awkward chuckle echoed in the room, and his face darkened completely.

“Your bonus this month is canceled.”

“What?”

I was in utter disbelief.

Any lingering grievance or bitterness instantly vanished.

“You stingy tyrant! I went on a business trip for you! Not only is this not considered a work injury, but now you're docking my bonus too?

“Kian Homer, since when were you this heartless? Even if I were just a regular colleague, you should at least show some basic human decency!

“I’m a patient, not your sworn enemy!”

I wanted to scream at him, tear into him with every insult I could think of.

But as I looked at that devastatingly handsome face in front of me, I just couldn't bring myself to curse.

“Fine. I’m quitting. I’m done.”

I pounded my fist against the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re not. You signed a ten-year contract.”

“What? Oh, for the love of God, can someone please bring me justice?”

My emotions flared so violently that a sudden rush of dizziness hit me, and I collapsed backward.

Kian, who was rigid and composed just seconds ago, moved in an instant.

His arms caught my shoulders, pulling me into his embrace.

…

A sharp headache tore through my skull, my vision went dark, and cold sweat drenched my skin.

Kian’s hands trembled as he held me.

And just like that, my mind flashed back to that desperate embrace at the airport and his pale feet on the cold concrete.

“Kian… why weren’t you wearing shoes back then?”

I finally voiced the question that had been nagging at me.

He kept quiet, as if struggling with himself.

Then, his low voice broke through the quiet.

“You said you liked me. Was that a lie?”

“Of course,” I answered without hesitation.

Beside me, I heard a soft exhale.

He sounded relief.

A sharp ache spread through my heart.

So that was it.

He had been afraid I was serious.

No one knew the truth.

I really did like him.

I had spent so long convincing myself otherwise.

No one knew that my so-called “joke” on the plane was the only way I could say what I truly felt.

Whether he believed it or not, at least I said it.

I had no regrets.

But I never expected it to end like this.

My secret crush had been doomed from the start.

Kian gently lowered me back onto the bed.

I shut my eyes, wanting to escape the unbearable awkwardness hanging in the air.

He left not long after.

He arranged for a private caregiver, and since I was in a luxury single-patient suite, the stay was pretty comfortable.

I might as well take full advantage of my paid medical leave and rest a few extra days.

During my hospital stay, Kian never visited.

A new phone was delivered to me by the caregiver.

I logged back into the company’s internal messaging system.

Scrolling through old messages, I came across a conversation where everyone had once talked about Ava Air Flight 117—the one that nearly crashed due to a mechanical failure.

They also discussed the celebrity pilot, the man who had pulled off the impossible, keeping his cool in the face of disaster.

But in the latest messages…

The topic shifted.

Now, everyone in the company’s private chat was talking about how Kian brought his girlfriend to tour the office.

My eyes widened instantly.

My grip on the phone tightened as I stared at the screen, reading every word carefully.

Then, I saw the photo.

A candid shot taken by one of my coworkers.

Kian stood in a deep blue suit, slightly turned to the side, speaking to a beautiful, elegant woman.

Even from this angle, I could see the gentle look on his face—an expression I had never once seen before.

My chest constricted.

My breathing turned shallow.

Then, pain.

A splitting pain.

It felt like my skull was being torn apart.

I clutched my head, twisting in agony on the bed.

The caregiver rushed in, took one look at me, and immediately turned to call for a doctor.

And just like that, I was back on the plane.

The deafening cries of passengers surrounded me.

Luggage rained down from the overhead compartments.

A blood-red haze filled my vision.

I touched my forehead, and my fingers came away warm and sticky with blood.

Panic overtook me.

I was still on the plane.

The plane never landed safely.

Everything from the hospital, Kian running toward me, to our awkward conversation had all been nothing more than a hallucination in my dying moments.

Terror rattled through my bones.

My whole body trembled violently as I clutched my head, screaming, "I don’t want this! I don’t want to die! I don’t—!"

If I had never known warmth, I wouldn’t have feared death so much.