"I'm carrying your child!" I screamed.

The airship was falling from the sky.

My fiancé, Oliver Ashford, grabbed the only tandem parachute.

And strapped it to his first love.

"You know how to jump. We'll wait for you on the ground."

He didn't see the heart-shaped brooch pinning my ripcord shut.

Or the gash sliced clean through the harness.

Clutching our unborn child, I closed my eyes and leaped from the burning airship.

————————

1

Oliver and Giselle strapped themselves into the tandem parachute, bound together as tightly as conjoined twins.

That secure bond must have given Giselle a profound sense of safety as he guided her across the sky.

Meanwhile, I stood frozen, staring at the remaining parachute as a wave of panic washed over me.

A fatal cut gaped at me from the harness, and a heart-shaped brooch pierced the ripcord, as if taunting me to challenge fate—You might as well die!

The airship drifted past the edge of the cliff. I looked down into the abyss, an endless depth below my feet.

I closed my eyes, held my unborn child close, and took the leap.

The sensation of freefall seized me, a violent pull that felt like my soul was being ripped from my body.

I could see myself from above, my body like a discarded rag doll, plummeting through the dense fog toward my death at a terrifying speed.

Memories of the past flooded my mind.

I had just learned to skydive when I found out I was pregnant. I had planned to surprise Oliver with the news on his birthday, but it seemed now that he wouldn't have cared anyway.

Just moments before, I had begged him over and over, “I’m pregnant, please, take me first.”

His patience wore thin. “Giselle is scared, and she has no experience. I can’t leave her alone. If you’re going to guilt-trip me, at least pick a better time.”

“I swear, I’m not lying!”

He was furious. “Amelia! Can’t you just be reasonable and stop causing trouble for everyone?”

Oliver completely ignored me, his focus entirely on securing Giselle's safety harness while I stood on the brink of disaster.

I watched the two of them descend, showing no sign of concern.

Oliver even slowed their descent, as if they were on a scenic tour, admiring the landscape below.

My own death was one thing, but I couldn't bear the thought of my unborn child never getting a chance to see the world.

I immediately dialed 911.

When the call connected, the dispatcher said, “Miss, please remain calm.”

“First,” the dispatcher instructed, “jettison all non-essential items to lighten the airship’s load. That will slow your descent.”

I followed the instructions, tossing out everything I could.

“We will contact a pilot on standby immediately. Please stay on the line.”

But the bladder was rupturing faster than I had anticipated. Tears nearly blinding me, I pleaded, “Please hurry, I don’t have much time. I’m drifting toward the cliffs.”

It wasn't long before a park ranger called me back.

“Is this Amelia? Isn't Oliver with you?”

“He jumped with Giselle first. My parachute is broken, please hurry!” I cried out.

The ranger sighed. “This is highly unusual. All our airships are booked solid today, and every pilot is already in the air. The area you're in, Zone A, is a very strange choice of route.”

They tried to calm my nerves while giving me instructions.

“Do you know where the gas valve is? Release the air to lower your altitude as quickly as possible.”

The airship drifted ominously over the chasm. No matter how I craned my neck, I couldn’t see the bottom. Releasing the air now would only hasten my death.

“I can’t. The airship is too high over the chasm. The fall would be fatal.”

The ranger hesitated.

“Don’t panic,” he said. “Oliver has already jumped, right? As soon as he gets back, I’ll have him come for you immediately.”

I was desperate to know if Oliver had landed safely. He was my only hope—the most skilled person who could come back and save me.

Clinging to a sliver of hope, I called him three times before someone finally answered.

“Oliver, please save me…” I sobbed, my voice laced with desperation.

Before I could explain that my parachute was broken, he cut me off. “Are you faking a pregnancy, or is this just more of your drama?”

“You’ve gone skydiving at the park before. All those guys were scared to death, but you had the time of your life. Why are you making such a big deal out of this now?”

“Just jump already! Stop being so stubborn!”

Then I heard Giselle’s delicate voice on the other end of the line. “Oliver, I feel so dizzy, and my heart is racing.”

“I’m taking Giselle to urgent care to get checked out. Once you land, call an Uber and get yourself home,” Oliver said before hanging up.

Once I land?

I let out a bitter laugh, unsure if I would even make it home alive. He had hung up before I could say another word.

My relationship with Oliver had always been one-sided. I was the only one making an effort. He remained aloof, almost indifferent.

We had been neighbors since childhood, and I had a secret crush on him for a full decade.

In the tenth year, tragedy struck. He was in a severe car accident that nearly put him in a wheelchair for life.

His then-girlfriend, Giselle, used the excuse of studying abroad to abandon him, fleeing to another country.

It was I who stayed by his bedside, nursing him back to health, accompanying him to countless doctor’s appointments and physical therapy sessions.

I watched over him day and night.

Perhaps out of gratitude, Oliver finally accepted my affection. Those days, though difficult, brought me a profound sense of happiness.

It was clear that I loved him more than he loved me.

Then came our anniversary.

I bought a cake and prepared a feast, eagerly waiting for him to come home from work. I waited from dusk until dawn, but he never showed up.

I called him many times.

“I’m preparing for an important commercial flight,” he said when he finally answered.

“Who takes an airship at this hour?” I asked.

“Don’t be so suspicious. I’m just working overtime. The airships need maintenance, too.”

“When will you be back?” I asked him again.

“Later.”

“Okay. I made all your favorite dishes. Please hurry home.”

As time went on, his answers became more dismissive whenever I asked.

“I’ll be back later.”

All those “laters” often stretched into the early hours of the morning.

One evening, after I had reheated his dinner several times, a notification popped up on my phone.

It was an Instagram post from Giselle.

After so long, we can still talk for hours. So lucky to have you in my life. The accompanying photo was of a scented candle.

Someone in the comments asked who gave it to her.

Giselle replied: An old friend of mine. We went to a trendy DIY workshop today, and he made it for me himself to help with my insomnia. The comment section was filled with praise and envy.

My heart sank when I spotted Oliver’s account in the likes. My gut told me he was with Giselle.

We had been together for so long, and he had never given me a single gift, yet the moment she returned, he seemed to drop everything for her.

I sat on the sofa, tossing and turning, unable to sleep a wink.

At three in the morning, Oliver returned, reeking of alcohol.

“Why are you still awake?” he asked, the scent of lavender mingling with the liquor on his breath.

“Working overtime again?” I asked softly.

He glanced at the dishes on the dining table, all his favorites.

“A colleague insisted on treating me to dinner to thank me for covering his shift,” he said.

The emotions I had suppressed all night were suffocating me.

“Did you forget it’s our anniversary today?”

Oliver rubbed his forehead, clearly irritated.

“Is it necessary to make such a big deal out of an anniversary? There’s Valentine’s Day, birthdays… so many holidays. Do we have to celebrate every single one?”

A wave of sorrow washed over me, and I bit back tears, refusing to let them fall.

“Is Giselle back in the country?”

The question seemed to infuriate him. He looked at me coldly.

“Listen, Amelia, we’re together. What more do you want?”

What more could I want? I had his body, but never his heart.

He went to his room, and I sat alone on the sofa, crying myself to sleep.

An hour later, he received a message from Giselle, saying she had heart palpitations and was scared.

Despite his exhaustion, Oliver showed no sign of annoyance. He got dressed and rushed over to her place.

I remembered when we first got together. I had made breakfast and gently knocked on his door to let him know.

Oliver’s eyes flew open in a rage, and he hurled a heavy whiskey glass from his nightstand at me.

“Are you insane? Don’t bother me when I’m sleeping! I’m not so stupid that I don’t know when to eat. Get out!”

I didn’t have time to dodge. The glass sliced my forehead open, and blood streamed down my face. Now, only a scar remains.

Oliver never apologized.

“Don’t disturb me when I’m sleeping,” was all he ever said.

At the time, I naively thought it was my fault.

I understood too late that in love, there is either affection or indifference.

I had already lost. Utterly and completely.

A loud crash jolted me from my thoughts.

I screamed, my heart pounding as I looked up in terror.

The ruptured bladder had scraped against the gondola’s metal frame, creating sparks. The airship caught fire, and the flames spread rapidly.

At the same time, the airship began to descend quickly.

I immediately grabbed my phone and frantically dialed Oliver’s number.

“Help! There’s a fire!”

“If something’s broken at home, just call a repairman,” Oliver said dismissively. “Is that really worth making a fuss over?”

“No! I—”

“That’s enough! I have to go help Giselle. Whatever it is, I’m sure you can handle it.”

Once again, he hung up abruptly.

In our relationship, he had always been the dominant one.

No matter what I said, he never had the patience to hear me out.

When he mentioned helping Giselle, I didn't expect it would be to help her post her latest Instagram update.

Thrilling! It was a video of them skydiving, not a picture of Giselle at a clinic.

I didn’t have time to watch it all—the flames on the airship were growing more intense, threatening to engulf me.

If I didn’t make a decision soon, I would face the dual torment of burning flames and a rapid fall.

I gently caressed my pregnant belly, my vision blurred by tears.

“My baby, I am so sorry.”

Before I jumped, I sent one last message to Oliver.

We’re done, Oliver.

The next thing I knew, my soul was in the hospital.

Giselle was leaning against Oliver, her voice trembling.

“My heart was hurting so much just now. I thought I was going to die.”

Oliver gently patted her head. “Don’t say such silly things,” he whispered.

“I hope Amelia is okay,” Giselle said with feigned concern. “She was calling you nonstop.”

“What’s wrong with her? The last time we went to the skydiving park with the guys, she was the only one who dared to jump. I taught her how to skydive. She should be home by now, but she said something was broken at her place.”

Giselle looked at him nervously. “Something’s broken at her place?”

A call came in from Oliver’s supervisor. He hesitated for a moment before answering.

The supervisor’s voice was stern. “Oliver, who authorized you to fly into a restricted no-fly zone?”

“The rescue team received a distress call, but they couldn’t find anyone at the landing site. It’s likely they went off course and had an accident.”

“They said the person on the missing report is likely Amelia.”