The sliding doors of the airport parted with a sharp hiss as Dr. Eliza Monroe hurried inside. Her heels clicked unevenly against the polished floor. She clutched her phone in one hand and reread the message she had received less than an hour earlier.
A patient in Santa Monica had taken a sudden turn for the worse. There was internal bleeding. The complications were unexpected and severe. Eliza was the only specialist available who had experience working on a similar case.
Her chest tightened as she scanned the departure board. Only one flight remained, and boarding would begin soon.
Eliza rushed to the airline counter. Relief washed over her when she saw that the line was short. Her nerves were frayed, and her thoughts raced ahead to operating rooms and critical decisions she might soon face. When she reached the counter, her fingers trembled as she opened her purse to retrieve her identification and credit card.
The zipper snagged. Before she could stop it, the contents spilled onto the floor. A lipstick rolled away. Papers were scattered across the tiles. Her phone slid under the counter.
“Oh no,” she whispered as she knelt.
While she gathered her belongings, a sharply dressed couple stepped up behind her. The man was tall and broad-shouldered. An expensive watch gleamed on his wrist under the fluorescent lights. The woman beside him carried herself quietly. Her eyes were observant and thoughtful.
“We need two tickets to Santa Monica,” the man said briskly. He tapped his fingers against the counter.
The airline agent, a young man named Aaron, hesitated. His gaze moved between Eliza and the couple.
“I’m sorry,” he said carefully. “We only have two seats left on that flight.”
Eliza looked up. Her face was pale but composed.
“Please,” she said quickly, still crouched on the floor. “I need to be on that flight. It’s an emergency. I’m a doctor.”
The man let out a sharp breath.
“We were here first,” he said, already pulling out his credit card. “Process the tickets.”
The woman frowned.
“Hold on, Grant,” she murmured. “She said she’s a doctor. Maybe—”
“We’re not changing our plans,” Grant interrupted. “People have emergencies every day.”
Eliza stood, clutching her purse to her chest.
“Someone’s life depends on this,” she said. Her voice was steady, but urgency rang beneath it.
Grant turned to face her. His expression was cool and dismissive.
“Life’s unfair,” he said flatly. “That’s not my problem.”
Aaron swallowed hard. He printed the boarding passes and slid them across the counter. Grant grabbed them, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face.
Eliza’s shoulders sagged. She turned to the woman.
“Thank you for at least trying,” she said softly.
As the couple walked away, Eliza leaned toward the counter again.
“Is there any other flight?”
Aaron typed quickly, then stopped.
“There was one seat left on another flight, but someone just booked it. I can put you on standby.”
She nodded and forced a small smile.
“Please do.”
Grant and the woman, whose name was Lillian, headed toward the gate. Lillian’s steps slowed. Her thoughts lingered behind at the counter.
“You didn’t have to be so harsh,” she said quietly.
Grant barely glanced up from his phone.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. We planned this trip. I’m not sacrificing it for a stranger.”
“She wasn’t just a stranger,” Lillian replied. “She was trying to save someone.”
Grant shrugged.
“We can’t save everyone.”
They collided with another passenger. Grant snapped at him before storming ahead. Lillian’s heart sank. This was not the first time she had seen this side of him, but something about today made it harder to ignore.
Once on the plane, Lillian felt uneasy as soon as they sat down. A faint flicker of light above them caught her attention. An unfamiliar hum followed.
“Do you hear that?” she whispered.
Grant flipped a page in his magazine.
“Planes make noise.”
“I have a bad feeling,” she said. “Row thirteen, all this tension. It feels wrong.”
He scoffed.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Moments later, the plane jolted violently. Screams echoed through the cabin. A suitcase burst from an overhead compartment and crashed down inches from Grant’s head.
“Wow,” he laughed nervously. “That was close.”
Lillian stared at him.
“You could have been seriously hurt.”
Soon, the captain’s voice came over the speakers, assuring everyone that the turbulence had passed.
Grant waved down a flight attendant.
“That suitcase nearly killed me. I think we deserve complimentary drinks.”
Lillian flushed with embarrassment.
When the drinks arrived, Grant raised his glass and drained his martini in one gulp. He reached for Lillian’s glass, but she shook her head.
Seconds later, his face turned red. His eyes bulged as he clawed at his throat. Panic rippled through the nearby rows.
Lillian reacted instantly. She wrapped her arms around him and delivered a firm thrust. On the third attempt, an olive flew free and clattered against an aisle seat.
“You’re okay,” she said, breathless.
Grant coughed, then smirked.
“Guess I’m tougher than I look.”
“You have a heart condition,” she reminded him quietly.
He waved her off.
Later, the smell of smoke spread through the cabin. A small fire ignited in a compartment. Grant helped extinguish it and basked in the applause that followed.
“See?” he said proudly. “I handled it.”
Lillian did not smile.
When the adrenaline faded, she took a deep breath.
“I got a job offer,” she said. “In another city.”
Grant stiffened.
“You’re leaving?”
“It’s a huge opportunity.”
“So you’re choosing work over us?”
“I’m choosing myself,” she replied.
Their argument simmered until landing. When Lillian finally told him she was ending the relationship, Grant m.0.c.k.3.d her. Then the pain in his chest became real.
He collapsed in the aisle.
At the hospital, alarms blared as doctors rushed around him.
“Where’s Dr. Monroe?” someone asked.
“She missed her flight.”
“We’re losing him,” another voice said.
Grant drifted in and out of consciousness. Regret clawed at his chest.
Hours later, he woke to find Lillian sitting beside him.
“You had a heart attack,” she said. “Dr. Monroe saved you.”
The doctor from the airport appeared soon after. Calm and focused, she explained that she had chartered a flight when she missed the commercial one.
Grant’s voice broke as he spoke.
“You tried to help someone, and I stopped you.”
Eliza met his eyes.
“You have a second chance,” she said. “Use it well.”
After she left, Grant turned to Lillian. Tears fell freely.
“If you still want the job,” he said, “take it. I want you to be happy.”
She squeezed his hand, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
For the first time, Grant understood how close he had come to losing everything, and how much humility it took to begin again finally.